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‘Okay Ma, you’re right. I won’t come down. But...’
Annamari could hear the catch in Arno’s voice and she swallowed the lump in her throat. She hated how much this was hurting him, but what else could she do? There was no alternative. Arno could not, under any circumstances, take Beauty to her matric dance as he’d promised.
They missed each other dreadfully, Arno and Beauty. Annamari knew that. Arno phoned home – reverse charges – every Saturday and after he had spoken to her and to Thys, he always asked if Beauty was around so that he could also say hello. Beauty didn’t often come home from Driespruitfontein Hoërskool for the weekend, but when she did, and she happened to be around when Arno phoned, they would chat for ages until Annamari intervened and warned them that the call was costing a fortune.
Arno and Beauty had been talking about her matric dance virtually from the first day Thys had dropped her off at the school hostel for the start of her matric year. And Annamari had tried every excuse she could think of to prevent the inevitable but nothing she said had made the slightest difference.
‘It’s too far to travel,’ she’d said.
‘Nonsense,’ Thys said. ‘Arno can fly to Bloemfontein and we can pick him up from there.’
‘It’s too expensive.’
‘Well, then Arno can take the bus to Bloem or Bethlehem. That’s not so bad. Or the train.’
‘That will be exhausting. He’ll be wiped out by the time be gets back to varsity.’
‘He’s young. He’ll survive.’
Now the dance was just a month away. Beauty had shown her a picture of the dress she wanted to wear. Annamari had agreed that it was beautiful; that it would suit Beauty perfectly; and, that Beauty could borrow her electric sewing machine to make it, with her help. What else could she do? What else could she say?
And then the solution she sought dropped into her lap. She sent a silent prayer of thanks to whoever scheduled the mid-year exams at the University of Pretoria and set down Arno’s vitally important – and difficult – Economics 1A paper for the Monday morning following the weekend of the 1996 Driespruitfontein Hoërskool matric dance; with Marketing 1A to be written that same afternoon.
‘Oh that’s terrible,’ she crooned. ‘You’ll have to study really hard the whole weekend.’
‘But the dance! I promised Bootie I’d take her. I can’t let her down now.’
‘You can’t risk failing your exams. It’s not just that you won’t have time to swot if you come down, you’ll be exhausted. Even if we find the money for flights. It’s just a dance, Arno. This is your entire future we are talking about here.’
Arno argued, but finally he agreed. Annamari offered to tell Beauty when she came to Steynspruit the next weekend – they were going to put the finishing touches to her matric dance dress – but Arno said he would phone her at school immediately. It was the least he could do.
***
Annamari’s stomach lurched when she heard the knock on the back door and saw Beauty standing there. She’d spent the week in an agony of dread, wondering how she was going to face the girl.
‘Can I come in?’ Beauty asked.
Annamari winced. Beauty never asked if she could come in to the house. It was her home, almost.
‘Of course. Of course! How are you? Are you alright? Is everything alright at school...’ Annamari could hear herself babbling. She felt her cheeks grow warm under Beauty’s unblinking blue gaze.
‘It’s okay, MaAnni,’ she said. ‘Arno told me. And it’s fine.’
‘Are you sure? Really?’
‘It would have been fun to go with Arno, of course, but everyone knows he is like my brother – and who goes to their matric dance with their brother? Can I get you some water?’ Beauty asked as Annamari choked. ‘Anyway, Gerhard van Rensburg has asked me so I’m going with him.’
***
On the night of the matric dance, Annamari, Thys, Pretty and Petrus stood proudly outside the Royal Hotel while the entire Driespruitfontein district watched in scandalised amazement as Beauty, looking like an exotic princess, proudly floated down the red carpet into the hotel’s makeshift ballroom on the arm of the Driespruitfontein Hoërskool’s first team rugby captain.
Thys, of course, had been less than enthusiastic when Annamari told him about Beauty’s escort for the dance. ‘I’m worried,’ he said as they curled up together on the couch to watch Noot vir Noot on TV2. ‘I know what rugger buggers like Gerhard van Rensburg are like. I’m sure Gerhard only asked Beauty as a dare, and I bet you anything he’s going to try and get her upstairs so he can be even more of a big deal with his mates. I’ll speak to him at practice this week – I’ll tell him that if he so much as lays a finger on Beauty, I’ll flipping get him dropped from the team.’
‘But you were a rugger bugger,’ Annamari teased. ‘And what about De Wet? You’re doing your best to turn him into a rugger bugger too, aren’t you?’ she said, not without a little bitterness. ‘Isn’t that why you insisted he go to Grey, rather than Driespruitfontein?’
‘Aw come on, Annamari. Don’t be like that. De Wet has real talent. I know he’s my son, but I really do think he could be a Springbok one day, and at Grey, he’s getting the best training and the best chance of being noticed. You know that. Also, De Wet needs the discipline and...Anyway, I’ll donner him too if I ever catch him disrespecting any woman,’ Thys muttered before putting his arm around Annamari’s shoulders and settling back to watch the rest of the show.
The next morning, while enjoying her coffee and rusks on the stoep, Annamari called Beauty over, and awkwardly raised Thys’ concerns. The girl stared at Annamari, then offered a tight smile.
‘Ach, MaAnni, tell BabaThys not to worry and to leave Gerhard alone. Really. It’s fine.’
‘Are you sure? Boys like that...’
‘Gerhard is okay. Really. We’re both misfits so...’
‘What on earth do you mean?’
‘Nothing. Really, it’s nothing. Gerhard is nice to me, okay? Ever since I started at Driespruitfontein. He tries to make sure no one gives me a hard time – even the teachers. And he doesn’t want anything from me – certainly not that!’
‘Are you sure? You’re such a beautiful girl and he’s – well, he’s a boy.’
‘Ja, he’s a boy but he’s also gay, okay? Oh my god, I never meant to tell you. He’ll kill me if he finds out. Promise me you won’t tell... promise me you won’t say anything.’
Annamari nodded mutely, too stunned to say anything. She knew Gerhard van Rensburg. There was no way he was moffie. Tall, good-looking, strong, deep voice, just like his father who – according to Driespruitfontein Hoër legend – had been a notorious rugger bugger in his day. She wondered what Jaco and Santie van Rensburg would do when – if – they ever found out about their son.
‘He just needs a partner who isn’t going to expect anything from him – you know what goes on at the dance – his friends have already booked a couple of rooms. I need a partner so ... we’ll go together and, and ... Ja. It will be fun. We may even go upstairs together – really get people talking!’
‘How do you know... that he’s, he’s... you know?’
Beauty sighed. ‘He told me. And I believe hm. I trust him. He has never been anything but honest with me,’ Beauty said. ‘It’s really not easy for him, you know. I was charfing him, one day, about how Jolene Minaar – you know, the netball captain – well, she’s always all over him and I asked him why he didn’t just put her out of her misery and ... well, anyway, he told me. I think it was a relief. But he made me swear never to tell anyone, so please, MaAnni, don’t tell BabaThys. Or anyone.’
Annamari nodded. She was still too shocked to say anything.
‘Anyway,’ Beauty continued with a sly little grin, ‘you can’t believe how jealous all the other girls are that he’s asked me to the dance. They really, really hate me now.’
Thys was still sceptical when Annamari told him that Beauty absolutely trusted Gerhard, but she didn’t tell him why. Not when Thys was trying to pull some strings to get Gerhard into the junior Cheetahs squad. As open-minded as Thys was, Annamari wasn’t sure her husband would want to be responsible for a moffie being selected for his beloved Free State team.