“Robert, you must come.”
He could hear she was out of breath and excited so he pulled over and turned down the music.
“What’s going on? Liedjie, Skattie, what is it?”
“Robert, it’s bad, they are going to throw us out of the houses. You must help us. The police are here and the people have built a barricade. Everything is burning.”
For heaven’s sake, he thought. Irritation fired through him and he battled to keep his voice pleasant.
“Ag nee, man. What has started this now?”
“It’s that man from the municipality, Mr Louis. He wants us out of these houses, but we have nowhere to go.”
This was all so unnecessary, thought Robert. She expected him, in his Italian suit, to rush into the lokasie to burn tyres and fight with the police.
“Skattebol, I will get there as soon as I can.”
“Come the back way, past the Bless Me Jesus and through Smartie Town. You won’t get through otherwise.”
“Be careful,” he said, and ended the call.
He looked at his shoes and thought about going home to change. No. The opportunity of getting in while everything was quiet was too good to waste. He switched off his iPhone, slipped it into the inside pocket of his jacket, turned up the music, leaned back and sighed. The band on the radio was good, no vocals, just the twang of an electric guitar. The leather smelled new and he ran his hands over the steering wheel, tapping in time to the music.
This couldn’t go on much longer. He started the engine and drove the last little way to the pub behind the Oudtshoorn municipal buildings and pulled into the parking. There was no one around except for a barmaid and he pushed R50 across the countertop.
“For parking,” he said.
“Sure.” She took the money and pushed it between her breasts. He liked the place. Maybe he would come for a drink here when he was finished.
The guard, who sat on his white plastic chair at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the municipal offices, was gone today, probably off to fight occupiers, he thought. This was perfect – quiet, easy in and easy out.
He walked along the corridor, peering into offices as he passed. There was a woman’s voice coming from one of the offices and he softened his footfall. The mayor’s secretary was at her desk and he prepared to greet her, but when he looked into the office her back was to the door and she was on the phone. Without a word he turned and retraced his steps. He knew she was there, which was good. There could be no surprises.
In the municipal manager’s office he took a handful of jelly babies from a crystal bowl on the desk. Then, chewing, he went into the housing office and sat down at the computer behind the door. It was a good place for a computer, he thought, the door could stay open and anyone looking in wouldn’t see the person working.
He looked at the computer screen. The old list was hidden in a folder called “Unpaid Licences” tucked into another folder on the desktop. The new one, “Housing Applications”, was in plain sight on the desktop. He took the first sheet from the yellow file from his briefcase. There were a lot to get through and only a little time.
He found Esther’s name on the old list and hovered over it. No, dammit, he thought, and clicked with the mouse. The drill was R 3 000. If he gave in, the occupiers would think they had won and they would all want a house. Shame. Liedjie was sweet and her information had been spot on. Dissent was easy to manage when you heard about it early. He knew exactly who was behind the barricade, thanks to her. This was just a spontaneous popping of an old boil. It wouldn’t last. Besides, it had emptied the office today, which was useful. Forewarned is forearmed, he thought, picking out a green jelly baby and popping it in his mouth. He scanned the list again and settled down to work.
In the afternoon, he heard clicking heels as the secretary came down the passage on her way out. He closed the yellow file and replaced it in his briefcase … for burning, later. When she had passed, he switched off the computer. He was hungry and needed a drink. It was all done and he didn’t want to be locked in.
He slipped down the stairs, crossed the foyer and out into the Karoo afternoon. There was still no security guard and he wondered what was happening at the barricade. At the Queen’s Hotel he ordered coffee and switched on his phone. There were messages, all from Liedjie, but he skipped through them. He wouldn’t go there now.
When the coffee shop closed he walked back to the bar where he was parked and ordered a whisky and a steak. There were a few drinkers now and the same barmaid from earlier. When her shift ended he bought her a drink. He knew his suit and iPhone flagged money. They sat in a quiet corner talking until the place filled up and then went back to his car.