“Jess and Gordon have split up,” he tells me.
He pulls me close, gives me a lingering kiss, pushes me back to an arm’s length and stares at me. “What’s wrong, love? You’re a bit tense.”
I do a quick scan around. Surreptitiously. There are voices coming from behind the hedge but it’s thick enough not to be seen through. I can’t make out anyone in the kitchen although I can’t be sure because of the reflection on the windows. Relax. Smile. Kiss him back. You ought to be wanting this, surely?
“I know. Jess told me. How’s Gordon?”
“He doesn’t actually seem too upset. God, I’d be devastated if we broke up, sweetheart.”
He really means it. Instead of trying to wriggle out, I need to give this a bit more. So I kiss him back longer and deeper and more desperately than I ever have before because the intensity and the passion should make all the doubts go away. It will make things be how they should be. How I want them to be.
He squeezes me and strokes my hair and grins and sighs.
“Mmm,” he whispers. “We are going places, you and me. And I can’t wait.” We’re in full body contact and I know beyond doubt that he’s enjoying it.
I do try to make my push gentle but he looks a bit surprised so I put on my best bright face. “Hey, you! We’ve got a party to go to, remember?”
I suspect this braai won’t be the small, family affair Gill was after. Most of the usual crowd are obviously still at large and there are quite a few newcomers – business acquaintances of Charles, I believe, and their wives. Brendan and Sarah Mangwende, Robert and Tanaka Nyandoro, Themba and Denise Ncube. The new neighbours, Thomas and Jenny Mhangiroza and their three children. That must be their kids in the pool.
Piet’s been watching Danny watching the kids.
“First black family in the road. They’ve been over here quite a bit actually. Nice folks. Gill’s going to teach the oldest kid to ride.”
He greeted us cheerfully enough but now he’s reluctant to chat and is backing away towards the lounge doors. I ought to find Gill.
“Can I do anything in the kitchen?”
“Um, don’t know. Sorry to rush off. Charles… er, Charles sent me to get more meat.”
He bolts without a backward glance.
Danny’s arm goes around my shoulders. “Relax a bit. Let’s get a drink. If you see Gill, ask her if she wants you to do anything.”
Gill is lolling on the new swing seat with Tammy and Sherrie. It’s pretty. White frame, blue and green floral upholstery, white fringe around the shade. Makes me think of a song from that old musical Mum likes.
Sherrie’s had her hair cut since I saw her a few weeks ago. It’s really short with tight curls around her head. If I did that to mine I’d look bloody awful but on her, with her pixie-like face, it looks absolutely right.
They attempt to wriggle up to make room for us but it won’t take five so I hold up my hand and stick next to Danny.
“Don’t worry about offering help, Tess,” Gill tells me. “If you really have the urge to do something, seek out Mum, but I got kicked out and told to come and socialise, so here I am, having a nice time with Tam and Shez.”
Tammy reckons it’s a pleasure to have her out in the garden for a change and says she’s looking forward to seeing Uncle Rupert dancing later. Sherrie says, “Rupert? Is he still of this earth? God, Gill, how old is he now?”
Gill leans back and closes her eyes.
“Year in, year out. Christ, I’m getting so tired of these birthday bashes. It’s too much like hard work after all these years. Nathan always refused Dad’s offers to do one for his birthday as you know and I’m beginning to think he’s been right all along, although it’s true that the boy had his own reasons.”
“Isn’t it his twenty-first this year?” Sherrie asks and Gill snaps her eyes open and passes a weary hand across them, massaging her forehead like she’s got a migraine.
“Oh Jesus time flies. Not yet. Next year. We’ll have to do something for that milestone. You know, I used to love these dos, but I’m fed up, and both Mum and Dad are acting like they’re completely stressed out today. Piet’s been here since the crack of dawn almost, insisting on helping where he’s really not needed. It’s sweet of him, but… Where is he anyway? And Nathan’s in a funny mood today. I’ve hardly seen him.”
“Piet went into the house,” Danny says, “to get more meat.”
“More meat? Where from? Is he going to slaughter a beast or something?” Gill launches herself out of the seat with some difficulty because Sherrie’s pushed it backwards and then allowed it to swing forward just as Gill makes her move.
“Sit still, Shezza, or go somewhere else,” Tammy tells her and Sherrie bounces up onto her endless brown legs and walks off without a word. Tammy sighs.
Gill’s on tiptoe, and she grabs at my shoulder to keep her balance. “We’ve had many a fun party, but perhaps we’ve had too much of a good thing. It’s all dragging on today. What’s Dad up to?”
Charles is on his own at the braai. He places his tumbler of amber liquid to one side and starts offloading his steaks and sausages onto the white enamel tray that Amai is holding and Gill’s right – there’s enough to feed a battalion. It’s so like him to have it all ready – beef, chicken, pork, boerewors, you name it – at the exact same minute. Mum could learn a few things from him so that we might never have to face cold vegetables with a roast dinner again.
“Is that whiskey he’s drinking?” Gill pulls her red baseball cap firmly down over her forehead and lets go my shoulder. “Bloody hell. This party thing really is getting to him.”
Amai’s borne the cooked meat away, but instead of following her Charles is waving one of his braai forks over his head. Then he holds up his left arm and points at his watch with his right forefinger, nodding. I try to locate the person he’s communicating with, but no-one in my field of vision is paying him any attention. Gill’s wrong. He doesn’t look stressed out at all. These occasions are his occasions. I have so many vividly beautiful memories of these parties and now… now Gill wants to end them. Everything comes to an end. Everything changes.
Looking at Charles, I’m trying to work out when he started to go so grey.
Piet, who was nowhere to be seen seconds ago, materialises between Gill and me.
“My God, don’t do that!”
“Sorry Gilly. Come. Let’s go up and help your dad out.”
“What? Why? Amai’s…”
“He wants to speak to you.” He leads her away by the elbow and Danny’s peering into my face. “Wine, Tess? Some rosé?”
Do I want wine? Not really. I’d prefer a rum and Coke.
“Quiet, please!”
The hubbub fades, hesitantly at first, but we all know what’s going to happen. It’s Charles’s habit to introduce his meat.
“The food is ready people, so you can delve into the feast.” He holds up his fork again. “Soon. But first, I have to let you all know I’ve been involved in a conspiracy. Besides wishing Gill all the very best for her twenty-third birthday, I have an announcement to make in the best Hollywood style. I have been approached by a certain young man who has asked me for my permission to take on this rebellious daughter of mine for a wife. Let us raise our glasses in a toast to this brave gentleman and hope she breaks him in gently!”
A ripple flickers around as a breath of wind disturbs the grass blades. There are a few cheers, glasses are held aloft – a cluster of dazzling pinpricks in the sunlight. Gill’s face is kind of bemused and Piet’s is tense behind her. Nathan and Amai emerge from the lounge doors bearing a lavender and white iced cake on a silver platter with Moira close on their heels. I can’t stay down here a second longer, separated from the whole of my adopted family.
I reach the patio just as Charles grabs Piet to envelop him in one of those impulsive and slightly awkward man-to-man embraces. I throw my arms around Gill and my voice comes out as a squawk. “I knew it would happen! It was just a case of when. Oh my God! Is this a complete surprise?”
“Well I had been asked on the quiet,” she answers slowly, turning to Piet who has escaped his future father-in-law’s clutches and is burning scarlet, “but I didn’t expect a public announcement. And now I know what the heck was up with my family today. They’ve been conspiring together behind my back. Did you know about this?”
I shake my head, my attention focussed on the small red velvet box that sits on top of the cake.
Piet is not made for public speaking. He shuffles around and mumbles a few words no-one can make out, not even me, and I’m standing two metres away from him. “Come on Piet!” calls someone. “Have you got something to say and do?” and the laughter is friendly but it makes poor Piet go an even brighter shade. He clears his throat a few times and takes a swig of beer.
“Well, I’ve planned this and now it’s happening, so here. This is for you, Gill.”
She accepts the box from him and I think he mutters, “I love you”, but I’m not sure.
“Will you marry me?” the same voice yells. “Come on man – say it. ‘Will you marry me?’”
“She’s already said yes!” Piet yells back and he looks as if he’s about to burst.
The ring is dainty – yellow gold with a diamond of modest proportions set between two deep green and almost luminous Sandawana emeralds. With a smile that looks like it’s threatening to cramp her cheek muscles, she allows Piet to slide it onto her finger and nestles into his arm, quite unable to take her eyes off it.
A lot happens very quickly. I’m jostled out of the way by a queue of congratulators, Danny appears with the glass of rosé, murmuring, “Beautiful, hey?” and Gill is now in Nathan’s arms. He looks like he never wants to let her go, rocking her to and fro with his eyes closed, the lock of dark hair nodding against his forehead. I automatically lower my eyes to give them the privacy they deserve. He’s wearing shorts and there on his right leg are the puckered scars left by the 7.62mm rounds from an AK47, a deep channel just under the hem of the garment and another equally deep one lower down. There’s one on the inside of his thigh too but I can’t see it from here, and also a pitted dent on the right side of his body between the hip and the rib cage, which I’ve only ever glimpsed when he’s been swimming. Involuntarily, I draw in a breath and wince and get a physical pain in my core. Over-wrought. It’s an emotional day.
Tammy claims Gill from him and Sherrie is here too, no longer sulky, nudging Nathan and handing him a glistening bottle of Castle. He looks down at her and does one of his nearly-smiles. They have a murmured conversation and I catch myself gawking. It’s time to whirl away before either of them notices and retreat with Danny to make way for more well-wishers. More drinks pass from hand to hand. It’s raining happiness and celebration.
A light-headedness washes over me. A mute button has been pressed somewhere in my head. I float away from them all. Gill and Piet and their ring, Charles and Moira and her over-excited relations, the neighbours raising glasses and toasting each other, Nathan and Sherrie talking over their brown bottles of Castle. I cannot let this I-don’t-want-change attitude overwhelm me. I shove my wine glass back into Danny’s hand and tell him I’m going to help Amai carry the cake platter back into the kitchen.
Amai’s happy prattling is incessant but very comforting.
*
At midnight we’re the sole remaining guests. We’ve danced under both the stars and the strings of multi-coloured light bulbs that festoon the patio area and when Danny’s eyelids began to droop I told him I’d just quickly help with some of the clearing up, then we’d go.
Now Moira’s gone to bed, my eyes keep trying to close and Danny, with his second wind, is deep in discussion with Charles and Piet, Nathan on the periphery. I’m learning more about the management of farm accounts than I really needed to know, frankly. There’s a pause, and it’s my moment to chip in with the right-then-we-must-be-off line, but I miss it. Charles is snapping his fingers together, smiling at me. “Oh, talking about extensions and concrete reminds me of what I was telling you in the office the other day. Nathan, get that booklet from the Cement and Concrete Institute – in my study. I promised to show it to Tessa, because it describes the setting process of cement.”
Gill rouses herself beside me and pats me on the shoulder. “There you go Tess – what a treat! You know, it’s just about the most fascinating subject I’ve ever had the joy to discover.”
“All right, Gill, my darling. Why don’t you go to bed? Tessa expressed an interest and I tried to explain but the author of that article does it better.”
It had seemed interesting, I admit. At the time.
I’ve got up to follow Nathan, but I’m not sure what I can do to help him find whatever he’s going to be looking for. Moving around might wake me up a bit I guess. Danny’s right behind me and Gill moves across on the sofa to lay her head on Piet’s lap.
Charles’s study, like his office, bears a certain resemblance to a recently bombed site. Having some interest in antiques, his furniture pieces are examples from the Victorian era – so Gill tells me – but they are only partly visible under the layers of paperwork, books and newspapers, box files and even building materials.
Nathan pauses at the doorway to survey the chaos. “Gill and Moira have often threatened to tidy this hole, but Charles becomes pathetically grief-stricken and pleads that he won’t then be able to find anything. Amai mutters dark and evil curses when she has to clean in here.”
The wine hasn’t worn off yet and the idea of gentle, cheerful Amai involving herself in anything dark and evil sets me to giggling while he steps over a small pile of boxed samples of different coloured granites to sift through a pile of brochures and other publications on the nearest bookcase.
“Ah-ha,” he says, extracting a small blue and white booklet from under an old copy of The Rhodesian Engineer. “God, that was easy. Maybe the system does work after all.”
He turns to me, flipping pages. “Look, here we are. I think this is what he was on about.”
Come on, concentrate. It makes very little sense in my fuzzy state but I can’t admit that, so I make a few lame comments like Ah okay and I see and Oh yes Charles told me that. Nathan’s not struggling. He’s not reading it to me – he’s telling me stuff about hydration and gels, air voids and aggregates in his own words.
“Are you ready to go?” Danny asks abruptly, from behind me. He leans over my shoulder, his hands around my waist, his face resting against my right ear. “Looks very complicated to me. Too taxing right at the moment.”
He gives me a kiss on the neck. An indistinct murmur of voices from the direction of the lounge becomes audible.
I close the booklet. “Well, thanks. At least that’s given me an idea.”
Nathan inclines his head and takes it from me. He says nothing and there’s something – a vibe in the air – that’s making me exceedingly uncomfortable with Danny’s soft breath against my cheek.
“Tessa, I’d really like to go home.”
So would I.
Nathan follows us as we return to the living room. Through a prickling in my spine, I’m as aware of his quiet footfalls on the thick carpet as I would be if he was walking hobnailed boots over corrugated iron sheets.
We start to say our goodbyes, but Charles is asking me if I’ve understood what I’ve just read and Gill is now wide awake and bent on attracting her cousin’s attention.
“Nathan. Nathan? Gosh, you’re miles away, kid. You’ll be interested in what Piet was just telling us. You know we’ve seen those race meetings at Beatrice advertised in the classifieds? Well he knows the crowd who run them – farmers – and he’s been to some of the meets. Here, Tessa. You’ll be interested too.”
She’s got my hand and is pulling me down onto the sofa beside her. Charles is saying, “Come on, Piet. Tell Tess and Nathan,” and Danny clucks his tongue, letting go of my waist at last.
“Amateur racing on dirt tracks,” says Piet. “It’s a circuit, with meetings held in various districts at specific farms. They’re exceptionally well organised. All the venues are great and the braais afterwards are legend. The next meet is in May at Beatrice, then there’s another Beatrice one in July, followed by one at Eagle’s Down farm near Shamva in September. I’ve been to a few, but I’ve never ridden in the races myself of course. I like a fast car but not a fast horse, I’m afraid. No brakes or clutch.”
He winks at Gill and we all laugh and I can feel Danny’s desperation even though I’m not looking at him. “Tessie, please! Let’s go!”
*
It’s very dark outside. The moonlight’s been blotted out by thick cloud but the night is warm and smells sweet, enveloped in the heavy stillness of the midnight hour. Past midnight now. With our shoes crunching on the gravel path we locate Danny’s car only by identifying the dull gleam from its windscreen as it throws back a small amount of diffused light from the stableyard security luminaires. I flop into the passenger seat, tired, but pleasantly so now, my thoughts lingering on Piet’s description of the race meets. “That sounds like fun, doesn’t it? I’d love to try racing. I wonder if Nathan will give it a go?”
Danny gives a short laugh that’s loaded with an emotion I’m not sure I can identify, but that isn’t a good one. He starts the engine, revs it a couple of times and pulls away, scattering pebbles from under the two wheels that were on the path.
“I couldn’t begin to guess.” He slings the steering wheel to the right to turn into the driveway. “I see the boy Owen has moved up in the world. All that technical jargon about cement! I didn’t know he could read at all, never mind stuff like that.”
He turns and grins at me, and the grin falls off his face. This irritation – this unbelievably intense irritation – is a bit scary, and it must show. He starts to say something but I cut him off.
“Oh Nathan Owen was never stupid. You forget I’ve known him a while, you know.”
“A surly bastard. Someone at school once remarked that when they were handing out brains, he wasn’t near the front of the queue and he’s never come to terms with it.”
“You know sod all about him,” I say and we’re silent all the way home.