‘I wonder if there’s a snake about,’ I said to my boiled egg.
I did the washing up, then called Jessie on her cell.
‘Tannie M,’ she said. ‘I’m at the hospital, hoping to meet Ystervark. He’s coming to take Slimkat’s body back to Kuruman.’
‘Ag, shame . . .’ I said. ‘Have you spoken to the people who work at the Kudu Stall?’
‘Some, ja,’ she said.
‘And?’
‘Not much, but I’ll tell you when I see you. I must run; there he is.’
‘Sorry I’m not there—’ I said, but the phone had already disconnected.
I wished I was there, at her side.
I put my lipstick on and was just setting out for work when the phone rang. It was Henk. He was the reason I wasn’t with Jessie.
‘Just checking you’re okay,’ he said.
‘Fine,’ I said, feeling a bit cross with him.
‘I’m coming back this evening,’ he said. ‘Be nice to see you.’
It was hard to stay cross with him.
‘For supper?’ I said.
‘That would be lekker.’
I wondered what I should cook.
‘It’s important you interview the people at the Kudu Stall,’ I said.
‘Ja.’
‘Have you spoken to them all?’
‘I can’t discuss it.’
‘Have you got results from the sauce?’ I said. ‘Was it poisoned?’
‘You agreed to stay out of it,’ he said.
‘I agreed not to stay there and investigate,’ I said. ‘But I still want to know. I was there when it happened. He looked me in the eyes.’
‘When there’s official news, I will tell you.’
‘I must go now,’ I said.
‘Maria . . .’
‘What?’
I could hear his breathing, and for a moment I was scared he was going to say he loved me again.
‘Thank you,’ he said.
‘Your lamb,’ I said. ‘Who’s looking after Kosie while you’re away?’
‘One of the guys from the station is staying at my house.’
‘Maybe ask him to stay one more night.’
CHAPTER NINETEEN
As I drove my blue Nissan along the dirt road to Route 62, I thought it was probably crazy to invite Henk to stay the night again so soon. But I’d been to see a counsellor and a doctor, and started two sorts of medication and a diet. And now I had the phone number for a satanic mechanic. So maybe I was ready.
I turned onto the tar. There were three other cars ahead of me on the way in to Ladismith. Morning rush hour. I wondered what I would cook for my Friday night with Henk.
Hattie’s Toyota Etios was already under the jacaranda, so I parked a little further away in the broken shade of a thorn tree. In the autumn weather, it would be cool enough.
I walked up the path lined with pot plants to the office of the Karoo Gazette. Hattie’s fingers were running around her keypad like mice, and she paused for only a second to greet me.
I went to my desk and the pile of letters that was waiting for me.
‘Tea?’ I asked Hattie, as I prepared my own coffee and rusks.
‘Hmm? No thanks. Just finishing off some last-second copy.’
I looked through my letters; there were quite a few new ones. Including some email printouts. I didn’t have my own email address, but they were sent to the Gazette for my column. Most people send letters; they’re more anonymous.
I reread that letter I hadn’t answered, from the teenager whose boyfriend wanted sex. I wrote:
If he cares about you, he will wait until you are ready. If you care about him, you will move gently in the direction of getting ready. It’s not something you must force yourself to do. Your heart and your body must both be happy.
In the meantime, you can make him the Venus Cake. Made with coffee and peanut butter and melted chocolate. It is very satisfying and will keep him interested for quite a while. If the waiting goes on a long time, let me know and I will think of something else. Though you can’t get much better than this cake.
As I wrote out the recipe, I wondered if a teenager was ready for the responsibility of an out-of-this-world cake. Should I make that same cake for Henk tonight? I hoped we wouldn’t be needing it. The problem with the Venus Cake was it disagreed too much with my diet. And my diet was moving me in the direction of getting ready.
I picked up another letter on the pile, one that looked impatient to be opened. It was a plain white envelope with a George postmark. George was quite a big town, further away and bigger than Oudtshoorn.
Dear Auntie Maria,
My boyfriend says he wants to have two girlfriends. He has a story about how he loves me but you can never find everything you want in one person. He wants us all to have dinner together some time (me and his other girlfriend). What should I do?
Miss Helpme
I finished my coffee, and answered:
Dear Miss Helpme,
Tell your boyfriend that is fine, so long as you have two boyfriends as well. And each of your boyfriends has two girlfriends. And those girlfriends need two too, and so on. It will be like a chain letter.
The problem will be having dinner together. How do you plan numbers for catering? It would be safest to have a picnic in the park or on the beach and ask everyone to bring their own food.
Not far from George is a nice beach called Herold’s Bay. I pictured them all on this beach and smiled.
‘Rightio,’ said Hattie, brushing her hands together with a clapping sound. ‘Done and dusted. I’d love that cup of tea now. And how are you doing, Maria darling? Have you heard from Jessie?’
‘Just a quick call,’ I said, putting on the kettle. ‘She was meeting Slimkat’s cousin, Ystervark, at the hospital.’
‘She has a nose for news, does our Jessie.’
‘She spoke to the people at the Kudu Stall. But it sounds like it wasn’t much help.’
‘Of course we want a good story, but I do hope she doesn’t end up in trouble again. Don’t think I could bear another kidnapping or coma.’
I hoped the same, but I also wanted Jessie to find out what happened. Slimkat’s eyes might haunt me for ever if she didn’t. I gave Hattie her tea and offered her a rusk.
‘No thanks,’ she said. ‘It hasn’t been proven yet, has it, that Slimkat was poisoned?’
‘No results on the sauce bottle yet,’ I said. ‘Well, nothing official anyway.’
‘Do you know something unofficial?’ asked Hattie. ‘You or Jessie, through one of your saucy sources?’ She laughed at her own joke.
I