A procession of warm bodies tiptoed in and out of the private room on the recovery ward. A junior doctor flexed Vee’s arm and clucked her tongue in reproach. A male nurse asked her a string of incomprehensible questions in Xhosa as he hung a drip next to the bed. A confused octogenarian wandered into the room and managed to pee on the floor before two orderlies steered him away. Vee could barely keep her lids open long enough to register most of it. She crashed once her head hit the pillow, slept for ten straight hours and woke the following day in time for the lunch rounds with arid nostrils and a raging bladder.
Her first visitor was Bronwyn Abrams. Afternoon visiting hours hadn’t quite begun but she’d been waiting for over an hour, so the nurses took pity and let her through. Bronwyn’s soft, quiet eyes were rimmed crimson from crying, her face drawn and puffy. The toddler she had in tow bounced around the room, entertaining himself with a toy airplane while she talked. Bronwyn gripped Vee’s hand as she sat next to the bed, breaking into a fresh bout of blubbering every time she went over another emotional part of the story she’d already spent the morning telling the police.
‘I feel so guilty. I didn’t know,’ she sniffled, fresh tears running down her face. ‘I swear, if I’d known it was important I would’ve gone to the police two years ago. I wish I could take it all back.’
Vee patted her hand. ‘What’s done is done. At least now you know what your friendship meant to her.’
Chlöe poked her head in as Bronwyn was on her way out. Vee watched them whisper in the doorway before Bronwyn scooped up her son and gave her a grave nod goodbye.
‘The minute we were rescued, I called her to go straight to the cops and give a statement like you told me. I have no idea what her part in this is, but I reckon you’ll tell me. And look, I’ve got war wounds, too!’ Chlöe proudly brandished her arms, bandaged up to the wrists in a detachable splint much as Vee’s had been. ‘Of course, you’re the real hero, which is why Portia the Proud is coughing up for such a nice room. And it’s not at the WI, thank heavens. After this, I don’t think I could ever let those crazies give me a Panado.’ She gave Vee a playful pinch. ‘How’re you feeling? Your swimming skills saved a life, bru!’
‘My what skills? I got lucky … If that had been a real pool, last night would’ve ended differently, trust me. A long time ago I had three whole lessons with a great instructor and lost interest. Let’s just say, when it comes to bodies of water, I know how to … not die.’
‘Whatever. You saved the person who tried to kill us, so that makes you a double badass.’
‘Okay, tried to kill us may be embellishing a little, Bishop.’
‘Excuse me? I felt decidedly in peril, so speak for yourself.’ Chlöe took away the dry sandwich Vee was forcing herself to chew, tossed it in the bin beside the bed and moved the food tray to the side table. ‘I’ll buy you real food in, like, five minutes. I already know Sergeant Mthobeli filled you in with Rosie and Serena’s statements so you have the full picture now, right? So tell me, tell me, tell me!’
Vee was overjoyed when Connie breezed in, laden with goodies: chunks of meat floating in peppe soup, a glistening cheek of fufu and sliced mangoes. Chlöe backed away from the eye-watering hit of chilli. Vee teared up in gratitude.
‘You the one encouraging this girl to act crazy all around town and get herself killed?’ Connie demanded from Chlöe as she dished up, eyes glowering. Chlöe was about a head taller, but she shrank away, throwing Vee a worried look.
‘I’ve always found she hardly needed any encouraging,’ said a voice behind them.
Titus filled the doorway, tentative of grin and armed with a goodie basket. Behind him stood Joshua, unburdened, his hands nestled in his pockets. If Vee knew him at all, there was something in there. She craned her neck, anxious to meet his eyes as the room bustled with bodies exchanging niceties and shuffling for room to sit. At last, he met her gaze and tossed her a smile that was all eyes.
Vee felt her shoulders unknot. ‘Damn.’ She was surprised at how relaxed – no, buoyant – she felt. Maybe the IV bag running into her vein contained something surplus to requirements, a dash of mood enhancer thrown in with the fluids and electrolytes. ‘I feel stupid, if this is what it takes to get this much attention. Too bad I’m being discharged this evening.’
‘You should feel stupid,’ Titus said, perched next to Chlöe on the empty bed opposite.
‘You’re the stupidest person in the world,’ Joshua added, his rump parked on the window ledge. Vee noticed they couldn’t have been further apart than if she banished them to separate corners of the planet.
‘Whatever, whatever!’ Chlöe bounced on the mattress, brimming. ‘Ooh, this is just like the mystery books, when the great detective gathers everyone in the drawing room and–’
‘Chlöe.’
‘Ag, then for fuck’s sake, spit it out.’