He answered in detail, which was uncharacteristic for Olivier. “They’re on great form. Joe got mentioned in dispatches for hard work. He was very pleased and showed me the newsletter himself. He’s missing you. We all are. But he’s not unhappy, so you don’t need to worry. He’s just counting the days for you to come home. Isabel has fallen out with Delfine, but there’s nothing unusual about that. They seem to break up and make up ten times a day as far as I can see. She’s made a paper caterpillar with Joe for the days you are away, and each day they tear off a segment. Every day I give them a treat. Yesterday I took them for tea at Patisserie Valerie. They loved it and ate those raspberry tarts. They made a terrible mess, but what the hell. They had a good time.”
“You must have left work early.”
“I’m happy to leave work early at the moment. There’s not much to do except damage control, and there’s no pleasure in that. I’m enjoying spending time with the children, actually. They are highly entertaining. Candace has asked us for the weekend, which is very kind of her and a great help to me, as I’m not very competent on my own, as you know.” Angelica felt a wave of compassion. He was making an effort to be a committed father.
“Give Candace my love. I’m very grateful to her for rescuing you. The children will have a great time in the country.”
“I’m going to take the morning off on Monday so I can pick you up from the airport.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know. I want to. I’ve had time to think and reflect. I’m not too proud to see the error of my ways and make a change. Sometimes it takes a little distance for us to realize how much we care.”
“Let’s just forget the whole incident.”
“Yes, please.” He sounded relieved. “So tell me, how have your events gone so far?”
While Angelica talked, Anita drove, trying to look like she wasn’t listening. But once she hung up, Angelica felt she had to explain.
“We had a row before I left. My husband’s very temperamental. I’m glad that he’s apologized.”
“Ag, shame,” said Anita, her face crumpling with sympathy.
“No, it’s not a shame at all. It’s really quite an achievement. He’s French and very proud.”
“Here we say ‘shame’ when something is very sweet.”
Angelica laughed. “Shame and robots. I should start putting together a little dictionary.”
“And your children?”
“They’ve made a paper caterpillar with segments for every day I’m away. Each day they tear a segment off.”
Anita grinned at her. “Shame!”
“If you saw my husband in a temper, you wouldn’t be so quick to say shame.”
“Sounds like he’s missing you.”
“He is.”
“They’re always the same. As soon as you’re away and they have to run the household and look after the children, they stop taking you for granted.”
“He’s full of appreciation.”
“At least you had your cousin here to look after you.”
Angelica contained her amusement by opening her telephone to text Candace. “I know, if it wasn’t for Jack, I wouldn’t have been allowed to come at all.” She hesitated over the letters. Perhaps it would be a good idea to mention Jack and Anna and their invitation to Rosenbosch to Olivier the next time he called, just to cover herself. The way the grapevine worked in London there was no chance she’d manage a weekend there without its getting back somehow.
Dear Candace, thanx for having my lot for the weekend. You’re a star. Olivier is so grateful! Missing you. All well out here. Beautiful weather—glorious! Catch up on my return. XX Angelica. A few minutes later, Candace replied. Glad it’s going so well. Can’t wait to hear all about it. We’re missing you here. Kate’s latest crisis will have you in hysterics! Love, Candace X She clearly couldn’t resist adding a word of warning: Be careful!
Although Angelica was curious to know about Kate’s latest drama, she didn’t want to think about next Monday. She didn’t want it all to be over. She wasn’t ready for her old skin, and she certainly wasn’t ready to see Candace and the mirror she held up to reflect her guilty conscience.
Sustained by Jack’s texts and his late-night telephone calls, the week went faster than she had anticipated. She said goodbye to Anita in Johannesburg and flew to Cape Town, where she was met by a rep called Joanna. As they drove towards the city, Angelica was horrified by the endless sea of shanty townships that seemed to lay siege to it. The heat shimmered off the corrugated iron roofs that gave pathetic shelter to the multicolored boxes that people called home, and telephone poles rose into the air like masts of beleaguered ships after a terrible battle. She wasn’t sure she could live in a country where such poverty was so visible and so overwhelming. Surely it would be impossible to find happiness in the shadow of such misery.
Angelica was relieved to leave the shantytowns behind for the immaculate, gleaming prettiness of the city. It was almost possible to forget that such ugliness existed as they drove up the palm tree–lined avenue to the Mount Nelson Hotel, settled in the shadow of the magnificent Table Mountain.
Angelica loved Cape Town on sight. The city smelled of freedom after the claustrophobic sense of fear in Johannesburg. Azure skies stretched out above the ocean, where gleaming white yachts and brightly colored fishing boats bobbed about on the water, disturbed occasionally by sleek cruise liners and vast containerships bringing produce from all around the world. The rocky coastline reminded her of the French Riviera, and yet the differences were unmistakable. The sun blazed down upon the mixture of gabled Dutch architecture, noisy African markets, and cobbled streets resounding with the sound of the muezzins calling the faithful to worship. The delightful concoction of European, African, and Islamic influences gave the city a unique exuberance. It was hard to imagine an angry underbelly of poor Africans seething on its outskirts, as menacing as any outside Johannesburg.
She sat on the terrace of the Mount Nelson in the sunshine, inhaling the sweet scents of freshly cut grass and neat borders of bright flowers where fat bees buzzed contentedly among the lavender and roses. She drank Coca-Cola and sat comfortably back in her chair, her spirits buoyant now that she was on the final leg of her tour, with only a day and a half of back-to-back interviews before she would be released at last to spend time with Jack.
They lunched with a journalist from the Mail & Guardian newspaper, an eccentric woman with the steady, forbidding gaze of an exotic bird of prey. Angelica chatted happily about her impressions of South Africa and her desire to come back. The bird of prey tucked into her lunch, enchanted by Angelica’s ebullience and charm. While Angelica felt her heart swell with love for Jack, she radiated love to all around her, and it was hard to finish the interviews, so happy were the journalists to bask in her luminosity. She felt love for everything and everyone, and, with her heart so charged, there was no room for fear.
They had a window of free time in the afternoon, and Joanna drove her to the graceful white beaches of Camps Bay. They motored up the long, palm-lined avenue that ran parallel to the sea and bought grenadilla ice cream from an exuberant African seller, shouting, “Grenadilla lolly, make your life jolly.” The sea was freezing, and Angelica pulled her foot out with a surprised yelp.
In the evening, after an interview in town, Joanna took her up Table Mountain, where she stood in humble silence at the splendor of the view before her. All humanity lay below in miniature, from the myriad of ships in the bay to the elegant mansions in the wealthy suburbs. Wide sandy beaches, rocky slopes, towering skyscrapers, and the grim shantytowns shimmered beneath a cloud of dust. She stood in awe, feeling the wind on her face and the diminishing heat as the sun descended slowly below the horizon. Up there she felt small and insignificant, and yet she felt part of everything—as if she were made of air. She wished she were a bird so she could open her wings and fly on the breeze, high above her cares.
The following day she sat a
t the hotel giving interviews. After lunch they had a couple of hours to go shopping. Joanna drove her to a vast African market, where she wandered contentedly among the richly colored fabrics, wooden carvings, and beaded jewelry. She chatted to the sellers, bought embroidered white pajamas for her children and a beautiful game of Solitaire, whose base was carved out of dark wood and whose balls were made of many different types of crystal. She envisaged it sitting proudly in her sitting room and laughed at the thought of Joe and Isabel playing with the pieces and losing them under the sofas. The image of her children caused her heart to twist with longing.
Her last interview finished at four. She packed her suitcase, struggling to fit everything in and having to sit on top in order to zip it up. Finally, she waited in the lobby for Jack. Having put off telling Olivier about her weekend plans she realized that if she didn’t do it now, it would be too late. So she called him on his mobile. It rang a few times. She mentally rehearsed what she was going to say, concentrating on making light of it. When he didn’t answer, she was relieved to leave a message. “Hi, darling. It’s me. Just to say that I bumped into Jack Meyer and his wife Anna here in Cape Town. You remember him from Scarlet’s dinner? Probably not. Anyhow, they’ve asked me for the weekend, which is really nice of them considering my Saturday afternoon event has been canceled and I would have had to hang around here on my own. So I’ll be on my mobile if you need me. Give my love to the children. Have a great time at Candace’s and give her my love. My plane gets in at seven-thirty on Monday morning if you’re still keen to come and pick me up. Totally understand if you’re not. It’s a schlep. Big kiss. ’Bye.” She hung up and winced. Had she gone on too much? Would he believe her? She ran over what she had just said, trying to remember it word for word, searching for any slipups. Tant pis, she thought. What’s said is said. She hoped he wouldn’t detect that she was lying.
While she waited, her thoughts turned to Anna. She had no desire to meet Jack’s wife. She wished they could spend the weekend together alone, without the jealous glances of another woman who had more claim on him than she did. It would be easier, she thought, if Jack moaned about her, but he hadn’t made even the smallest derogatory remark. He had made it clear that he loved his wife. He had also suggested that the two of them would get on very well. But Angelica had no intention of liking her. She was anxious about having to hide her feelings, having to skulk about, stealing moments while Anna was in another part of the house or perhaps in the garden. She hoped that Jack had made plans so that she didn’t have to spend time with his wife.
When Jack finally strode into the lobby, her fears melted in the glow of his cheerful smile. Aware that she was in his town, she was careful not to throw herself at him like she had in Johannesburg, although her heart was ready to burst with joy. He bent down and embraced her affectionately, raising his eyes over his glasses to case the room for anyone who might know him.
“You all right, Sage?” he asked, his gaze softening. “You look radiant.”
“I love Cape Town.”
“I knew you would.”
“Everyone is so friendly.”
“The sunshine makes everyone smile.”
“Do you think Londoners would smile more if we had sunshine all the time?”
“You don’t need sunshine, Sage. It’s already inside you.” She laughed and watched him pick up her case and walk outside. “What have you got in here? The entire contents of the African market?”
“I bought some lovely things.”
“So I see.” He glanced at the necklace dangling over her breasts.
“Pretty, isn’t it?” She grinned. “How long to Rosenbosch?”
“Just over an hour.”
“So I have you all to myself for an hour?”
He smiled at her mischievously. “We might have to stop en route. I don’t think I can sit all the way to Franschhoek and not touch you.”
Jack put the suitcase in the back of the car and climbed in. Before driving off, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
“You’re more beautiful than you were in Jo’burg,” he said, caressing her face with his eyes. “Just the sight of you is enough to restore my spirits.”
“Did they need restoring?”
“They did,” he replied, nuzzling her. “I can’t wait to show you my home. And we’ll be just in time for a sundowner at Sir Lowry’s Pass.”
“That sounds enticing.”
“Oh, it is. I’ve brought a picnic. Tonight, the sunset will be more spectacular than ever.”
23
Keep your face to the sunshine and you cannot see the shadows.
In Search of the Perfect Happiness
They drove out of Cape Town, past the monumental panorama of rocks known as the Twelve Apostles, jutting sharply towards heaven. The dual carriageway cut through the vast, flat plain beneath a cornflower-blue sky. In the distance, velvety green hills rose to meet the horizon, where feathery clouds caressed their voluptuous curves as they moved swiftly on down the valley. They passed rich farmland, where the soil was red and the crops tall and golden, and vineyards with vines planted in neat rows giving the impression of thick fields of corduroy. Jack held Angelica’s hand, glancing at her occasionally and smiling. The scenery was so dramatic and so vast that Angelica yearned to be part of it. How romantic to live surrounded by such beauty, all the time.
Finally, they arrived in Franschhoek. The name was written up on the hill ahead in big gray stones. Angelica felt her belly cramp with anxiety at the thought of meeting Anna. By now the sun was setting, turning the hills flamingo pink. Sensing her nervousness, Jack squeezed her hand.
“I want to take you up to watch the sunset before I show you Rosenbosch.”
She smiled at him gratefully. “I’d love that.”
With the window down, she could smell the fertile soil and camphor trees. The air was warm on her face, the light soft and wistful on her skin. She gazed at the gleaming white houses and picket fences adorned with pink and white roses, the neatly mown lawns and pretty verandas, and loved Jack all the more because he was part of it.
He took a left turn and drove up a dusty track, leaving the town behind. The valley darkened around them, but the horizon blazed with liquid gold, setting the sky aflame. After a while he pulled over and they climbed out. He opened the boot and extracted a small green hamper. “We can’t watch the sunset without a drink. Follow me, I have the perfect spot for our sundowner.” Angelica hurried after him. “We don’t want to miss it.”
Up there on the hillside they were alone with the sound of roosting birds and crickets chirruping in the grass. They sat down, and Jack took out the bottle.
“One of ours,” he said proudly, showing her the label. “A particularly good 1984 Chardonnay.”
Angelica laid out the glasses and Jack uncorked the bottle and poured. They sat in silence a moment, savoring the taste. Angelica felt the chill all the way down into her belly, followed by the pleasant lightness in her head. She felt the cramp slacken in her stomach and took a deep, satisfied breath.
“So what do you think, Sage?”
“Just as I expected: delicious,” she replied truthfully.
He was pleased, holding up his glass triumphantly. “It’s not bad. Not bad at all.”
She took another sip. In the distance the gold had darkened to a deep red, as if a giant furnace blazed just beyond the hills. Gray clouds hung heavy in the white sky; the valley was swathed in a shadow of dusky pink.
“I love it here, Sage. It fills me up inside in a way that nothing else can. I suppose I feel close to nature. Close to heaven.”
She took his hand, feeling a sense of melancholy wash over her. “Why is it that beauty makes us think of heaven?”
“Perhaps it reminds us that the beauty of nature far exceeds anything that human beings are capable of creating. It makes us feel small and insignificant and in awe of a Higher Power.”
“Or perhaps it connects with the divine inside us
, so on some deeper, unconscious level we feel part of it all. Maybe it simply triggers a long forgotten memory of where we all come from and for a moment we are gripped by a yearning to return home.”
“Whatever the reason, it makes us sad.”
“Because it’s so fleeting.”
“Like life.”
She frowned, reminded suddenly of the cancer that had brought him so close to death. “Which is why we have to live in the moment,” she said, smiling at him gently. “I’m living in the moment right now, Jack. I’m not thinking of yesterday or dreaming of tomorrow. Right now I’m here on the hillside with you, among the birds and crickets, and I couldn’t be happier.”
Jack took her wineglass and placed it on the grass with his, then drew her into his arms to kiss her. She lay against him and closed her eyes, relishing the sensation of his rough chin and warm lips. The spicy scent of his skin blended with the lime of his cologne—a smell that was becoming familiar to her. She fantasized that they were married, living in this stunning country, drinking their own wine, watching the sunset every evening and never growing tired of each other.
Finally, the furnace died away, leaving the gray clouds to hang snugly over the hills like blankets. It was twilight when they walked back down the hill. The magic was over, and Angelica was left with the unsettling prospect of meeting Anna. They climbed back into the car and drove down the hill into Franschhoek.
“So what am I to expect?” she asked, staring ahead at the little flies caught in the headlights.
“She’ll love you. You’re just her type.”
“I’m sure you’re wrong.” She glanced at him, but he didn’t reply. “So are your children going to be there, too?”
“No, only Lucy, our youngest. Sophie and Elizabeth are staying with friends in Cape Town.”
Angelica began to bite the skin around her thumbnail. “I feel guilty, coming into your family like a cuckoo.”
He took her hand and squeezed it. “Don’t feel guilty, Sage.”
The Perfect Happiness Page 24