‘I didn’t believe it either when she told me,’ she rambles, ‘but she said I had to find you! Had to warn you. Had to give you the list.’
The woman takes her hand, and the feel of her clammy fingers makes Kirsten’s hair stand on end. The woman presses something cold into her palm and closes her fingers over them. A new wave of BBQ BO washes over Kirsten and she almost gags.
‘There is real danger. Don’t go to the police, they are in on it! They are pawns. Don’t tell anyone, don’t trust anyone. Like dominoes we’ll fall,’ she says, softly clicking her fingers. Click, click, click. ‘Dominoes.’ She clicks seven times. ‘Don’t trust anyone! Not even the people you love.’
Kirsten’s heart was banging around in her chest. Her watch alerts her to a spike in blood pressure. The woman turns and scurries away. After a few steps she turns and whispers: ‘Be careful, Kate.’
‘My name is Kirsten!’
‘Yes,’ says the woman. ‘Your Kirsten is my Betty, Kate. Betty-Barbara. Kirsten-Kate.’
Kirsten looks down, opening her hand to reveal a small silver key.
‘Thank Christ!’ says Kirsten as she catches sight of James. Spooked by the delusional woman in the basement, she had called and asked him to fetch her, and was waiting for him in a bright 24-hour teashop around the corner from the bar. She gets up too quickly to hug him and sends her cup and saucer stuttering to the floor where they crack and break apart in slow motion. They move awkwardly to pick up the pieces.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says, mid-crouch, eyes on the floor.
‘Me too,’ she says. ‘Well, sorry that we fought, anyway.’
‘Yes,’ he says.
She’s too strung out to catch any kind of public transport, so they walk home. The pavement trips them up, but it’s a small price to pay. Kirsten tells him about Keke’s latest discovery: that there’s no record of her birth.
‘That’s impossible,’ James says. ‘There must be. Just because she can’t find proof… Look, I got your pills for you,’ he takes a plastic bottle of little yellow tablets (Lemon Zest) out of his manbag and hands it to her. After bumping him the prescription from the inVitro offices she had forgotten about it.
‘Thanks.’
He stops her, takes her by her elbows.
‘Kitty, are you okay?’
‘That… that stupid woman in the basement scared me,’ she says, childlike, vulnerable.
‘Creeps like that should be locked up,’ he says, anger grating his voice. ‘Instead of, instead of going around … frightening people. We should report her.’
Kirsten knows she shouldn’t tell him about the silver key but it’s glowing hot in her pocket, in her brain. They are walking over a bridge when she takes it out and shows it to him.
‘I know I should get rid of it,’ she says, ‘but something in me says I should keep it. I mean, I want to get rid of it…’ She feels silly. ‘I don’t know.’
‘I do,’ says James. He grabs the key out of her hand and throws it over the bridge. It glints against the dark sky and then is lost forever. Not even a sound as it lands: seconds, meters, stories, away. Swallowed by the night. Kirsten is shocked by her empty moon-white palm.
‘It’s for the best,’ James says, and marches on.
Journal entry
10 December 1987
Westville
In the news: During a police raid on shacks in the Port Elizabeth area, they meet heavy resistance from the residents. The police drive a Casspir over the shack, killing four. Ireland is reeling from the Enniskillen Remembrance Day bombing.
What I’m listening to: Faith! By George Michael
What I’m reading: Kaleidoscope by Danielle Steele. I needed something light because the only time I have to read is when I’m half asleep and breastfeeding! The story is about three sisters who are separated by fate. I’m hoping they’ll be reunited.
What I’m watching: 3 Men and a Baby. Tom Selleck is gorgeous and hilarious.
Life keeps surprising me. After 18 hours in labour (an early labour and a very long 18 hours!) Sam Chapman (2.6kg) was born at 8:45. Ten minutes later – surprise! – A little girl arrived too. We have named her Kate (2.2kg).
We were totally shocked but actually my belly had been so big that everyone in shopping malls etc. kept asking if it was twins so we did have some kind of warning. P left the hospital once I fell asleep so that he could go get ‘emergency supplies’. It took us months to do up the nursery and here he is, having to double it up in a day!
Sam latched immediately but Kate was too hungry to try – she just screamed! – So P gave her a bottle to get her blood sugar level stable. They are so tiny; the nurses are keeping them in the warming drawers that look like Tupperwares. Pink tummies and tiny little toes that I want to kiss. I am exhausted and sore, all I want to do is hold my babies and sleep. Very tired, and relieved that we are all safe.
SHINING & SLIPPERY WITH SWEAT
10
Johannesburg, 2021
Seth saunters into the Yellow printer room.
‘Oh, hi Fiona,’ he smiles at the curly-haired woman. He acts surprised, as if he didn’t know she was in there. She blushes at him knowing her name. He brushes skilfully past her.
‘Hi,’ she smiles, holding her locket to her lips, warming the silver with her breath. They both watch the printer for a few seconds, as if willing it to print faster, but in fact both wanting it to take its time. She unconsciously pumps her high heels up and down, as if warming up for a race.
‘Our printer’s being repaired,’ he says. ‘It’s a dinosaur of a thing: still uses toner. That’s why I’m in Yellow.’
‘Okey-dokey,’ she says, her mind scrabbling desperately for something interesting/intriguing/funny to say. ‘Bummer.’
Fail. She has to stop herself from facepalming.
‘Not all bad, though,’ he says, ‘getting to see you.’
She guffaws. After a while she says: ‘This won’t do, you know,’ hand on hip. ‘I know what you’re trying to do.’ Her freckles fade against the rose of her cheeks.
‘Really?’ he says, ‘and what is that?’
‘Trying to find out Yellow’s secrets.’
He moves closer to her.
‘Ah, so you do have secrets.’
‘We do,’ she says, ‘and we’re going to win this quarter.’ Her large breasts rise and fall under her unfashionable paisley blouse.
‘You don’t have a chance,’ he says, rubbing his hands together. ‘Red is so far ahead, there’s no way Yellow can catch up.’
‘But you’re wrong,’ she says in mock-seriousness. ‘We were just saving ourselves. We’ve got something massive planned. It’ll sell thousands of units.’
‘It’ll need to,’ says Seth. The printer stops then, as if to flag the end of their conversation. She pulls herself away, gathering up the A4 prints and holds them to her chest, pretending they are top-secret documents, even though they are just her latest holiday snaps: Bali. She backs – grudgingly – away.
‘Are you coming to the teambuilding on Friday?’ she asks. ‘I heard that we’re going to go on a 4D-maze tetrick treasure hunt.’
I’d rather stick a fork in my eye, he thinks.
‘Sure,’ he says. ‘Well, if you’re going.’
‘Yes!’ she fizzes. ‘Yes, I’m going.’