As Tumi laid down the suit he would wear for mock court on his bed, trying to ignore Edgar’s packed bags across the room, he felt his resolve grow. Even though he had been extremely hurt by Edgar, and had grown so close to him, he had to set his feelings aside.
Tumi got changed and walked out of Nova, but as he stepped into the quad he froze in his steps. He spotted Hein, Leo and Sylas walking towards the law building to attend mock court. Tumi remembered the argument he had gotten into with Hein, and how he had at first judged Edgar for being friends with them. He decided to hang back and not let the other guys see him. He had gotten nothing but trouble for trying to stand up to them in the past, and he felt almost powerless against their pompous attitudes. All he could do was think of himself and what he had to accomplish. As he walked a longer route to the law building, behind the swimming stadium and around Donovan Square, he thought of how those guys had made him feel like an outsider. Guys like them had always been around, like gatekeepers guarding the traditions and prestige of Ridgemont University and especially of Tumi’s residence, Initia Nova. Tumi had always hated it, and he knew that if he didn’t play by their rules he would be treated just as badly. Luckily, Tumi had had a roommate like Neville, who also felt like an outsider most of the time, but still found a sense of home in Nova. But Neville was gone, living his own life in Joburg, and Tumi felt more alone than ever.
Finally, he arrived at the law building and walked into the large hall that was arranged to look like a South African courtroom. The room was already filled with students, all of them looking professional as a sign of respect for the court, even though it was only an imitation. They all realized what it was that they were representing. The law had to be treated with reverence; it determined the lives of everyone. It ensured that people were treated fairly, were given equal footing, as far as possible. And when the law was broken, there had to be a fair trial. If someone was found culpable, there had to be consequences. That was the basis of a just society. That was what they were all there to uphold.
Tumi remembered his duty and the duty that he would face when he graduated from law school. He walked up to the table where his teammates were already seated, and looked across the room to see a flash of red hair. Edgar was there, looking sullen. Tumi turned his eyes back to his own team. Judy looked more nervous than she did at any of the other mock courts. She hated public speaking, and always felt very self-conscious when she had to present arguments or question witnesses. Tumi had practiced with her a lot over the past weeks to make sure that she was calm enough to question the first witness for the final session. But the way she looked that morning, Tumi had no idea if she would be able to do it. Her lips were smiling as she greeted Tumi, but her eyes were shaky with nerves. Tumi leaned in and whispered in her ear: “Just picture them all naked. It might help to calm your nerves.”
“I do that all the time anyway. It’s lost its effectiveness,” Judy joked, and they both laughed. Tumi sat down at the far right of the table, and realized that only a few feet from where he sat, Edgar was staring at him. Tumi knew that it wouldn’t be any good turning to look at Edgar, and he kept his eyes on the bench.
As all of the students settled down, Prof. Nkuna entered the room wearing her judge’s robes. She had the usual serious expression on her face, but as she walked past Tumi, she gave a very subtle smile and nod. Tumi was careful not to visibly return the gesture; he knew that other students weren’t happy with his good relationship with Prof. Nkuna. He sat making notes as Judy stood up to question the first witness.
Judy’s voice was shaking slightly, but she managed to get through all of the questions without any major problems. The first witness for the session was a master’s student who was playing the role of the foreign liaison for the investment company which was on trial for, amongst other charges, fraud and insider trading with members of the Zimbabwean government. It was a broad case, and the students were given many different angles to argue from, including Constitutional protections that were allegedly contravened. Judy had done a good job of looking at all of the possible points and building up the foundation for Tumi to once again land the finishing blow. It was Tumi’s specialty, and something that he was well-known for, but he had been bested in the previous two sessions of mock court. He couldn’t let that happen again.
It was Edgar’s turn to question the witness, and finally, after trying to avoid him for the entire session, Tumi turned his attention to Edgar. He could see that Edgar was tired and disoriented. He looked off his game, his appearance not as immaculate and his slight stubble ungroomed. It was a rare sight to see Edgar in that shape. Tumi felt himself want to go easy on Edgar, but he stopped himself. Edgar had proven that he was ruthless in the courtroom, and Tumi couldn’t allow himself to be distracted.
Edgar had tried to counteract some of Judy’s points, clearly sensing that she was laying the groundwork for a few of the arguments that Tumi was getting ready to present. But he seemed listless, distracted. The witness was a powerful source for the prosecution team, and everyone knew it. The information that the witness was sharing could be very incriminating, and Edgar wasn’t doing much to challenge the facts that Judy had exposed. Finally, Edgar said that he had no further questions, and Tumi could sense many people in the room shift uncomfortably in their seats. The prosecution had the upper hand. Everyone knew it. All Tumi had to do was close the deal.
He stood up, straightening his tie, and walked closer to the witness box. He saw Prof. Nkuna’s expectant eyes in the corner of his line of sight. He said to the witness: “Mr. Notnagel, can you describe the conversation you had with the defendant about the potential legal ramifications of the business dealings with the parties listed in the Zimbabwe deal?”
The witness spoke at length about warnings he had given to the CEO of the company, and about how he had been suspicious when he noticed the involvement of South African political figures. The information was flowing fast, and Tumi could sense that the heads in the room were spinning. He continued with pointed questions, painting a picture of corruption that was clear as day. Tumi could feel his confidence growing, and his voice was clear and commanding as he pointed to inconsistencies in the testimony of the witness and the arguments of the defense team.
Finally, Tumi felt himself building up to his final line of questioning: “Mr. Notnagel, were you ever privy to meetings between the defendant and one Mr. Gerald Chakaora?”
The witness responded in the affirmative, and Tumi knew that he had a slam dunk lined up.
“Did the defendant ever make any promises to Mr. Chakaora that you can recall?”
As the witness opened his mouth to respond, Tumi heard a loud and startling voice behind him shout, “Objection!”
Tumi did not turn around. He knew that everyone on the defense team could tell that this would be the death of their case. If the witness could testify that there had been promises of quid pro quo, this could be linked to the Zimbabwe deal and the defense would be shattered. Tumi knew that he could expect some kind of reaction from the defense team if the case was strong enough at that point; all he needed was someone to verify the corruption that he had based the rest of his argument on. But Tumi was still surprised to hear that Edgar was the one objecting.
Edgar tried to argue to Prof. Nkuna that the witness had reasons to misconstrue the conversation, and that answering the question would be in violation of certain precedents, but his argument wasn’t making much sense. Everyone could tell that he was desperate, even Prof. Nkuna who overruled him and allowed for the question to be answered. Tumi looked back, finally, at Edgar’s face. He looked wounded and exhausted. Tumi felt somehow vindicated, like he was giving Edgar a taste of his own medicine. After the witness gave him exactly what he needed, he knew that he would have an easy time with final arguments.
The final witness took the stand and another member of Tumi’s team did the questioning, but the damage had already been done. There was nothing more to accomplish; they had present
ed a strong case, and only needed the final witness to confirm some of their points. The defense was neutered. The session adjourned for a lunch break, and when it resumed Tumi noticed that someone was missing from the defense desk. Edgar had not returned to deliver the final arguments. Tumi knew that the moment in mock court was likely the last time he would see Edgar. When the day was done and Judy was congratulating him on a brilliant performance, all Tumi could think of was the sad look on Edgar’s face. He wanted to win in mock court, but he expected Edgar to put up much more of a fight. The day was a hollow victory, and Tumi wished that he could see Edgar just one more time. But by the time Tumi returned to Nova, Edgar’s bags were gone and only a bare mattress was on his bed. And the pot plant that Tumi had left by Edgar’s windowsill, that he still watered every day, had been left on Tumi’s desk. There was nothing in the room to remember Edgar by.
Chapter 25
It had been an almost 16-hour long flight to Heathrow Airport, and Edgar hadn’t been able to calm his mind enough to sleep for more than a few restless hours. Thomas had been snoring gently by his side for most of the flight, knocked out on sleeping pills, but even though Edgar tried to unwind, he couldn’t stop thinking about the way he had left things with Tumi. He had tried to make a clean break, but he couldn’t sleep at all the night he had told Tumi he was leaving. He couldn’t even focus on his notes for mock court, and after seeing that he was causing more harm than good during the morning session, he asked one of his teammates to take over closing arguments. He couldn’t stand up there and pretend like everything was okay. He had spent the time feeling numb, and when he got that first glimpse of Tumi, he found himself staring. Tumi seemed completely unfazed, and continued with everything as normal. He didn’t even seem sad that Edgar was leaving. Edgar wasn’t even sure if he would be able to stomach returning for his final exams, and he considered just chalking up the entire semester to a colossal waste of time.
Edgar and Thomas caught a taxi back to the family home in Kensington, the double-story face-brick manor on a large estate where the Boatwrights had lived for generations. Edgar watched the rows of trees leading up to the main gates of the estate, feeling mixed emotions. Thomas was chattering about the new responsibilities he’d been given at the family business, about how annoyed he was becoming with the power plays of Wesley and Lawrence Jr. who were always watching his every step. But Edgar wasn’t paying attention to any of it. He had to come to terms with being back home, but he couldn’t bring himself to accept it just yet. There was too much he was leaving behind at Ridgemont.
The beautiful grassy fields surrounding the family home looked vibrant under the grey sky, and Edgar could see ducks on the lake in the far distance. As the car pulled up to the front entrance, Thomas tipped the driver and helped Edgar carry his bags inside. Edgar wouldn’t bother to unpack everything; he would have to return to Cambridge in only a few days to get back on track for his final semester, and try and find a way to explain to his professors why he was missing out on some of the credits from his exchange program. Edgar lifted his largest suitcase up the steps leading up to the entrance to the house, and inhaled deeply as he stood at the threshold. It was hard to believe that almost six months had gone by since he had left for South Africa. He felt like he had changed so much since he had first left England, and he had no idea if he even fit there anymore. His mind flashed back to the moment he had shared Tumi’s bed, that strong arm embracing his body, the feeling of every inch of Tumi connecting with him. Looking out over the grey drizzle he was returning to, his heart longed to go back. But he knew that he had no choice in the matter.
Edgar went up to his old room and left his suitcases by the bed. The room he had spent his whole life in looked exactly as it did when he left, the king size four poster bed, the lush, golden drapes and the pictures of his mother on the dresser. He walked over to the pictures, looking at them closely, seeing the smile on his mother’s face. Celeste had told Edgar that his mother had lost that smile when she left South Africa and married his father, and that she had only regained it once Edgar was born. Why had she been so protective over him? Edgar wondered what she would have said if he could tell her he visited South Africa. And if she loved it so much, why did she allow her husband to keep her away from that place? Edgar looked up from the picture to see his reflection in the mirror above the dresser, his features so similar to his mother’s. But there was something of his father in his face too. He realized in that moment that he was doing the same thing his mother had done; he was allowing his father to keep him away from the place that his heart longed to be.
Edgar went downstairs and had lunch with Thomas, but he could hardly keep his mind focused on the conversation. Eventually, Thomas tilted his head and raised his eyebrow, saying, “Is something wrong, Eddie? You’ve been off this whole time. I know Wesley was a bit tough on you in front of your roommate, but you’re not seriously holding a grudge, are you? You know that’s just the way we are with each other. The way we’ve always been.” Thomas spoke with a casual disregard which began to frustrate Edgar. It was true that the brothers had always been hard on each other, following their father’s example of “pounding the steel to make it stronger,” as he always said. But Edgar was sick of it. He didn’t want to have the type of strength a Boatwright man was supposed to have anymore. He didn’t want to have to take everything his brothers gave him simply because it meant he was supposedly getting stronger.
“You’re wrong about me, you know,” Edgar said, his eyes trained on Thomas. “I’m not the weakling you think I am. And I’m not lost or stupid or reckless. I can stand on my own two feet.”
Thomas nodded, his shaggy red hair falling onto his forehead. “I know that, Eddie. Don’t be so serious. I had to go through this too. It’s just the way our family works. Eventually, you’ll be part of the gang. I mean, you’ll be…” Thomas had misspoken, and Edgar pounced.
“I don’t want to be just like you. I’m different. And that’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Eddie,” Thomas said, a look of concern crossing his face, “You gave us no reason to trust you thus far. We thought that going to South Africa would be good for you, that you would learn to stand on your own two feet. But you ended up partying and floundering, and you couldn’t even tell father what you planned to do when you returned. He thinks you need a strong hand, and I’m not so sure he’s wrong. We’re trying to look out for you. If you don’t pull yourself together at some point, you’ll be nothing but a drain on this family. Is that what you want?”
Edgar felt all of the tumult of the past few weeks catch up with him. Thomas had always been the brother that had been the most defensive of him, and who had kept the other brothers at bay when they were being too tough on Edgar. But through it all, Edgar knew that he was still just like them deep down. All of them, with every decision that they made, only cared about impressing their father and living up to his expectations. Edgar thought back on his actions over the past few days. He realized that his brothers might have done their job too well. They had made Edgar turn his back on something that he cherished, someone who made him feel something real, all to please his father and to stay in his good graces. Edgar hadn’t even put up a fight when his father asked him to return. He was too afraid of being left without his money or without direction, and he became exactly the person his brothers and father had set out to make him: cold, calculating and self-serving. He had hurt Tumi, implied that the growing bond between them meant nothing to him, simply in order to be able to leave without any complications.
“Eddie, you’re my favorite brother. Have I ever told you that?” Thomas said, a smile on his lips. Edgar looked at him with a frown on his face. “I mean it! You’re a great guy. I know I can be an ass sometimes, but I’m overjoyed that you’re back. Just try and make the best of things, for me. And once you’re on your own two feet, you can make any decisions you want to make. But you’re giving father even more control over you by playing right into what
he expects. Prove him wrong. Finish your degree, make a name for yourself. At least give it a try. Can you do that?”
Edgar shrugged his shoulders. He honestly had no idea if he could do what Thomas was asking of him. Edgar had always felt the push and pull of being a Boatwright. He hated the way his father treated him and the constant feeling of being a disappointment. He wanted to make his own decisions. But he felt like he needed to live up to so much.
Edgar finished lunch without saying much. He went to his room to send a few emails to his professors, explaining that he had returned. He had to figure out what he wanted to do with his life. All he could think about was that he wanted to be back with Tumi. But that was starting to feel more and more impossible.
Chapter 26
It had been over two weeks since Edgar had left Ridgemont, and final exams were already underway for most undergraduate students. A slightly chilly morning marked the final day of Prof. Nkuna’s Constitutional Law class, and Tumi had buttoned his jacket all the way to the top to counter the cold breeze. The trees had begun to lose some of their leaves and the sky was thick with clouds. It had been a long summer and the seasons had changed much later than usual, but now it finally felt like winter was approaching. Tumi watched the anxious faces of the many students he passed on his way to the law building. It had been a busy few weeks since Edgar had been gone, and luckily Tumi was able to distract himself with studying for end of semester exams. He had tried to pursue the lead that his mother had told him about, the nun who apparently knew the young woman Abongile, but nothing had turned up. Two nuns had gone by the name Sister Beatrice in the past decades, and one of them had died before Tumi was born, while the other had been retired for over ten years and was proving difficult to track down. She had been moved to a church retirement home, but Tumi’s letters and phone calls to the home had proven fruitless; Sister Beatrice had apparently moved out to live with family, and no one knew exactly where she was. Luckily, some of the other nuns had promised Tumi to continue the search, and all he could do was wait.
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