“Sounds good.” Kedi loved that song. It was a haunting ballad about the continent, a land of love, brutalised for centuries but always resilient. She knew it would be a hit everywhere, not just in South Africa. She hoped it might even be her big breakout song overseas. That was one of the goals she was still aiming for, to make it big in Europe and the US.
The band was already working on the arrangement in the practice room down the passage from reception. “Okay, I need to get to work,” Kedi said, hoping her mother would get the hint.
“I’ll come with you,” Baitse said.
“You really don’t have to. I’ll be here until late. Why don’t you call one of your daughters-in-law and go shopping, or go and see your grandkids? You can take my car,” Kedi suggested. She didn’t like the idea of her mother wasting her time at the studio, and her two eldest brothers lived in Joburg, one a lawyer, the other the owner of a plumbing company, both married with kids.
“Nope. I’m fine,” her mother answered. “I’m here to take care of you, and that’s what I’m going to do.”
The woman was stubborn when she got her teeth into something, Kedi had to admit. It could have been why she had withstood twenty-four years of marriage to a man almost every person he met couldn’t stand. That was probably why she was so successful at business too. Baitse just didn’t give a business the option of failing. Kedi sighed and headed for the practice room, her mother following closely behind her.
Everybody was there. Sipho, the lead guitar player; Ace, on bass guitar; Dintwe on keyboards; and Clipper on drums. They were like a family. They travelled all over the continent together, doing concerts. Each of these musicians had a high work ethic, which was part of the reason Kedi was so successful. She never forgot that. She knew she would not have managed without them.
“Hi, guys!”
Dintwe gave her a hug. “You feeling up to this?”
“Sure, I’m fine. I just need to get to work. Get my mind off things.”
Kedi greeted the trumpet and sax players, both women she’d worked with before. She’d already worked out the logistics to take them on tour with the band after the album came out. Eventually she’d love to have them permanently in the band, if they could manage that. She liked the depth horns gave to a piece of music, and both of these women were very talented and committed musicians.
Kedi slipped out of her shoes, kicked them into a corner of the practice room and got straight to work. The time slipped away as she and the band tried various arrangements of the song. Kenamile brought lunch for everyone; they broke for thirty minutes and then were back at it. Kedi got lost in the work, in the music. Security and stalkers disappeared. None of that mattered. All that mattered was getting the song right.
She was so thankful for the music. The almost mathematical intricacies that could be shifted to take a song from good to magical completely took over her mind. They were doing it and it felt fantastic.
The practice room had no windows, so it was only when Kedi walked out of the room and looked down the passage to the window at the end that she realised it was dark outside. She checked her watch: it was 21:15. “Hey, it’s late, guys. Sorry.”
“No problem,” Clipper said. “We got it where we wanted it, tomorrow we record.”
“Anyway,” Dintwe said, “what could we say, you’re the boss.”
Kedi looked at him and he smiled, but she could see he wasn’t happy they were leaving so late. “Sorry, I hope Princess won’t be too upset.”
“I’m sure she’s in bed by now,” Dintwe replied.
Kedi felt even worse. No one else in the band had kids, at least ones that lived with them. She reminded herself that she needed to be more sensitive to Dintwe’s situation. She rubbed his shoulder. “Sorry, really.”
Just when they were about to take the lift down to the parking garage, Louise came out of her office. Her face showed she was under some sort of stress. She seemed reluctant to say what she obviously needed to. “Can I see you before you go?” she said to Kedi.
“Sure.” Kedi turned to her mother and Kenamile. “Can you guys hold up just a minute?”
They both came back out of the lift and sat down on the sofas in the reception area as Kedi followed Louise to her office.
Louise sat down behind her desk and Kedi seated herself in one of the visitor’s chairs.
“I know you didn’t want to do this, but . . .” Louise started.
“Dumela, mma,” a voice said from behind Kedi, a voice she knew. Though she didn’t want to, she turned to see the man sitting on the sofa against the wall. He looked relaxed, his arm along the back of the sofa, one leg stretched out in front of him. He wore faded jeans and the worn brown leather jacket Kedi knew only too well.
It was Sefhemo. His hair was shorter and the moustache was gone, but the eyes were the same. His head was shaved nearly bald, which brought out his eyes and the good bone structure of his face even more. He seemed just as fit as he’d been when he was twenty-five, the last time she’d been this close to him.
She tried to ignore the racing of her pulse and to banish all thoughts of how he looked from her mind.
Kedi stood up without speaking to Sefhemo. “Louise, you said you would take care of this – that was our deal. I’m not doing this. I told you. You promised.”
Louise came around the desk and took Kedi’s hands in hers, stopping her before she could leave the office. “Please,” she whispered. “Please. He just wants to ask you a few questions. Things I don’t know the answers to. I’ll take care of everything after that. We need to get this thing sorted out once and for all. Please, just this once. For me.”
Louise’s voice sounded weary. Kedi had expected as much – Louise hadn’t been able to stand up to Sefhemo. She’d tried and he’d beaten her down. Kedi had known it would be like this, and now here they were.
Sefhemo sat on the sofa looking at her, his lips not quite smiling, not quite not smiling. Age was not tempering his good looks, but rather accentuating them. Kedi tried to deny her nervousness and ignore her sweating hands. Sefhemo was a person who could not be trusted, she told herself. Because of that he was a person she didn’t need or want in her life. Nine years hadn’t changed that fact.
Desperate to maintain her composure, Kedi sat back down, turning the chair to face Sefhemo. Her voice was all business. “Okay, fine. Make it quick. I need to get home, it’s late.”
“Still the same overdramatic young woman, I see,” Sefhemo said, ignoring her words. “Quite a bit more beautiful, though.”
Kedi stood up again. “That’s it! I’m out of here.”
She headed for the door again, but Sefhemo got there first. He was suddenly very near, and Kedi found it difficult to take a breath. He grabbed her arms.
“Let me go,” she said half-heartedly.
She could feel her body betraying her. After all this time, could the attraction still be this strong? She felt weak fighting it. It was as if she was back to when they first met, when she was a singer with a dream and he a cop new to the job, with so much to prove. The minute she met him, she’d known there was something different, something important and rare between them. She’d been dating Poloko since high school and she’d been sure she loved him, at least for part of that time, but it was nothing like the immediate attraction she felt towards Sefhemo. Physical, visceral, uncontrollable.
It was a dangerous, wild attraction and it scared her. That was why she knew that when she had her chance, she had to get away from him. She was sure such an attraction would swallow her up. She was sure she couldn’t stand up to such feelings. When she got away, she’d known it had to be permanent. But now here he was.
His