“I don’t need immunity. I’m not guilty of anything.”
“Of course not. I sense an honest, good woman in you, Mrs. Louw. I hope you’ll do the right thing.”
“So do I.”
When he tips his hat and walks off, Michael and Elizabeth Roux step up to offer their condolences.
Elizabeth stares after Barnard. When he’s out of earshot, she says, “What did Diogo want? I bet it wasn’t to offer sympathy.”
“Nothing,” I say.
“If he as much as looks at you again…” Michael leaves the threat hanging.
“Don’t worry.” Quincy takes my arm and pulls me away from Michael. “We’ve got her back.”
“Anything you need,” Michael continues with an unfazed air, “you just have to say. Elizabeth and I are here for you.”
“You’re coming to our place for dinner on Friday night,” Elizabeth says.
“That’s very kind, but––”
“No buts. I’m cooking, so it won’t be anything fancy. Just a dinner between friends where you can be yourself and let your guard down.” She glances at Rhett and Quincy. “Since they don’t seem to let you pee alone, bring your bodyguards, too.”
“They’re not bodyguards, not any longer.”
“Whatever.” She turns to the men. “You’re more than welcome, guys. Take care of her.” She kisses my cheek. “Call me anytime you need a friend.”
“Any last words?” the minister asks as the crowd starts to thin around the grave.
I stare at the heap of freshly turned earth. “This isn’t over, Gabriel Louw.”
The minister gives me a piercing look, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s probably happy this is over so he can go home to his comfortable slippers and newspaper.
“Ready?” Rhett asks.
“Yes.” I turn away from the open hole in the ground.
“Where to? Home?”
Gabriel stipulated in his funeral plan there was to be no reception after the ceremony. I’m thankful I don’t have to put on a show for the vultures.
“I’m going past the clinic to see Connor.”
“I’ll drive.”
“I have a car.”
“I’m not letting you go alone.” He says it like he means business.
Kris comes around and takes my hand. “He’s right. We’ll both come with you, and then I’m cooking you dinner at home.”
I only nod gratefully. I can do with her support, even if she’s already given me so much.
As we make our way to the cars, there’s a part of me that stays behind in that graveyard. It hurts, but not the kind of hurt when you lose the love of your life. It hurts with loneliness, and at the same time it burns with hope. Tomorrow morning I’ll take Gabriel’s ring to a jeweler to have it fixed and polished.
Throwing my full weight into dealing with the aftermath of Gabriel’s disappearance as I came to call it helps me cope. There’s enough to keep me busy so my mind doesn’t dwell on his absence. For starters, there’s Connor. There’s always Charlie. There’s my work at Kris’ practice, which I put on hold. We agreed to employ an assistant, and now that Kris is earning more she can afford to employ another vet. The most challenging tasks are taking care of Gabriel’s estate and the business.
As it turns out, I inherited everything––the houses, the cars, the business, the assets … and the debt. I don’t think Gabriel realized the dire situation the business was in. The Louws lived well above their means, and bribe money made a big dent in their coffers. Magda did a good job of hiding it. Because of the ongoing investigation into the sabotage, Gabriel’s assets and estate are frozen. My only income is the salary Kris pays me. Thank God for paid maternity leave.
The house will have to go. There’s no way I can sustain it on my salary. The mortgage Magda took out on her house in Parktown to keep a drowning business afloat requires that the house be sold. One week later, both houses go on the market. I call Sylvia to ask if she wants anything––maybe there’s something of sentimental value to her––but she slams the phone down in my ear.
The big, old place in Parktown has to be packed up. It takes Kris, Charlie, Quincy, Rhett, and me a full week of strenuous labor to wrap precious crockery and glassware in paper and ship sealed boxes to antique stores. I use the money I get for the furniture and houseware to pay off the most pressing debts. That same week, to my great joy, Connor comes home.
Our house is next. As soon as I secure a buyer, I rent a modest house in Northriding, a cheaper area, but still in the safer, northern suburbs. Then comes the hard part of paying off the staff. Marie left when Magda passed away, and Gabriel got rid of the guards who remained on Magda’s property. I terminate the contracts with ours and pay them a bonus to soften the blow. When I propose the settlement to Rhett and Quincy, they stubbornly refuse.
“I can’t pay you what Gabriel paid you,” I say. “In fact, I can’t pay you at all.”
Quincy crosses his arms. “I’ll settle for profit share.”
“In what? The loan shark business is in so much trouble it’ll take years to recover.”
“Then I’ll settle for years.” He winks. “What can I say? I have faith in your business ability.”
“I’m with him,” Rhett says.
“It’s a foolish decision, guys.”
Rhett raises a brow. “This is what Gabriel would’ve wanted.”
“What about what you want?”
“Profit sharing sounds good to me.”
With that, our discussion is settled. Rhett and Quincy stay on to protect me and Connor, sharing one of the two bedrooms in my tiny, rented house, while Charlie, Connor, and I share the other. It isn’t right, but no matter how much I argue and bargain, they won’t change their minds.
With the move behind us, I dive headfirst into the business. Not knowing enough about finance, it soon becomes clear that I’m going to need a financial adviser to help me navigate through the minefield of contracts and debts. Michael and Elizabeth are a great help, going through the legal jargon and explaining things to me in simple terms. Gabriel was busy after Magda’s death. He cleared the illegal portion of the business, cutting loose the government and police officials who received regular kickbacks from Magda. He settled territorial squabbles by putting contracts in place that operate on a commission basis. Conveniently, all evidence of corruption and crime was destroyed in the explosion that leveled the Brixton office, leaving me as safe as I can be in this city and business. If I had dirt on the big shot politicians and judges, I wouldn’t have lived long. Disturbingly, Christopher, the hypnosis psychologist, disappeared after Magda’s death. I can only hope he fled for his life and not that Gabriel revenged his underhanded dealings. In any event, all traces of Magda and her cronies are wiped out. What is left is the legal side, albeit a business I don’t care to exploit. It still involves using crippling interest rates to rob already poor people.
Acting against Michael’s advice, I lower the interest rates across the board and write off the debt of those debtors who already paid interest equal to their capital loans. There will be no more bone breaking and violence. I close all the offices except for the one in Auckland Park to save expenses and retrench the staff. Magda hired them, and I don’t trust them. Rhett and Quincy help out with the bookkeeping, even if it isn’t their forte. We can’t carry on like this indefinitely, and I can’t afford to simply shut everything down. I need money to pay Rhett and Quincy, and I need to survive. I need a future for my child and brother. I need lots of money if I’m to find Gabriel. What I need is a change of direction and a CFO. The problem is that I can’t afford to employ a decent CFO. I need a different strategy. I run my idea past Michael when he pops in to see how I’m coping, which has more or less become his Monday ritual.
“I need a bright, young university graduate with ambition and nothing to lose.”
Michael regards me from across the desk in my office with a doubtful gaze. “On a minimal wage?”
“D
“Your business is unstable, and you’re an unknown player with no connections. The country’s economy and politics are in shambles. No local or foreign investor will give you the time of day. What you should do is collect the interest from your active lendings.”
I glance at Charlie who’s playing cards at a table in the corner and lower my voice. “I’m not going to put people out of their houses or slit their throats if they can’t pay.”
“What are you going to do? I assure you, the majority won’t pay unless you put the fear of the devil in them.”
“Write it off as bad debt.”
He taps his fingers on the desk. “You’re not running a charity, Val.”
“I won’t do to others what happened to me.”
He sighs heavily, leans back, and straightens his tie. “Your intentions are noble, but you’re heading for bankruptcy.”
I rub my forehead, feeling a headache coming on. “I know.” This is more frightening than I thought, but I won’t sink to the level of crime or violence. Never.
“Why don’t you just accept my offer?”
Connor starts fussing in his carrycot on the carpet next to me. I pick him up and throw a cotton blanket over my shoulder so I can feed him discreetly. I don’t have an issue with public feeding, but if Gabriel didn’t want Michael to kiss my hand, I think he would’ve been jealous of sharing the intimate image of Connor on my breast, and it’s extremely important to me to protect Gabriel’s feelings, even in his absence. Especially in his absence.
“Val?” Michael raises a brow, reminding me he’s still expecting an answer.
“I can’t take your money.” Michael kindly offered to take care of me and Connor as a way of paying his last respects to Gabriel, but my pride will never allow me. I have to make it on my own. This is my mess to sort out.
He sighs again. “You’re adamant about this, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I have a contact at the business school. I’ll speak to him and see if he knows any suitable candidates.”
My smile is all teeth. “Thank you.”
“Don’t get your hopes up.” He gets to his feet. “If you pay peanuts…”
“Yes, yes, I know.” I roll my eyes. “I don’t want a monkey. I want a clever worker who’ll help me grow the tree to harvest the bananas in good time.”
He makes a face. “That’s the worst analogy I’ve ever heard. Please don’t mention that in your interview.”
“You brought up the peanuts.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “I have to go. Dinner, our place, Friday night?”
Like every other Friday night, I accept. Our dinner dates became a standing arrangement, just as Saturday nights at Kris’ place turned into a weekly institution. Charlie, Rhett, and Quincy are always included. I can’t go anywhere without them, anyway. It’s my friends’ way of taking care of me, and sometimes those nights are all that keep me sane. I miss Gabriel with brutal intensity. Every day without him is torture. Work keeps my mind off him during the day, but it’s at night, alone in bed, that I break a little more with each passing hour.
Michael kisses me on the forehead. “Hang in there. It gets better.”
I can only nod. If I speak, my voice may break. I wave goodbye as he blows me a kiss from the door and calls out a greeting to Charlie.
Quincy walks in as he leaves. “I brought lunch.” He places a plastic container with a fork on my desk and another one on Charlie’s. “Pasta and cheese salad.”
The salads are his and Rhett’s humble effort at cutting costs. I know they miss their double burger take-outs.
Blinking away the tears that always come when I think of Gabriel, I give him a grateful smile. “Whatever would I do without you?”
He winks. “You’re welcome. When that little man has done eating I’ll take him for a stroll so Rhett can do the vacuuming.”
“I can do the vacuuming.”
“No sweat. You’re busy.”
Connor has stopped suckling. He’s about to fall asleep on my breast, so I remove him gently and adjust my clothes. “You don’t need to coddle Connor. He’ll probably sleep right through the vacuuming.”
Quincy looks at me as if I’m mad. “With that noise? You can’t expose his ears to that. Nah, give him here.” He takes my little bundle, sniffs his butt, and declares solemnly, “He’s clean,” before buckling him into his stroller and tucking a blanket around his body. He adjusts the umbrella that attaches to the side of the stroller and pulls the protective plastic cover over the hood.
“For the pollution,” he says, taping a disposable hospital mask over the holes of the breathing gap.
While I dig into my salad, he loads a baby bag with diapers, wet wipes, a bottle of expressed milk in an insulation tube, a rattle, and a burb cloth. Lastly, he adds a variety of pacifiers, probably all the models on the market. I don’t know why he still bothers, because Connor always refuses them. By the time he’s ready, Rhett walks in with the vacuum cleaner.
Rhett drops the vacuum and stalks to the stroller. “He’s not covered enough.” He takes his mobile phone from his pocket and checks the weather. “It’s only twenty degrees with fifteen kilometers of wind.” He starts unfastening the plastic cover. “Put another blanket and a beanie.”
“He’ll be too hot under the plastic,” Quincy protests.
“Ho–hot,” Charlie says.
“He’ll get sick with the wind coming through the gaps. I told you we should’ve taken the Chicco model. The plastic fitted all the way to the footrest.”
“But that one had four wheels, and my research stated clearly that three wheels are easier to manipulate. Don’t forget that Maclaren is better on the baby’s back.”
“The frame can’t fit a carrycot or car seat like the Chicco.”
“Guys,” I get up and round my desk, “Connor is happy. Look at him.”
They both look down into the face of innocence. Connor is sleeping, his little chest moving with strong, steady breaths. With that angelic face you’d never think he could lift the roof with clenched fists and angry bawling when his food doesn’t come fast enough.
You’re so much like your daddy.
Rhett slams a hand on his forehead. “Dickhead, Quincy. You haven’t changed him before he fell asleep, and now he’ll get diaper rash.”
“You think?” Quincy shoots me a worried look.
“He’ll be fine.” I push Quincy toward the door. “Bring him back if he starts crying, and be safe.”
If it weren’t Quincy, I would’ve objected to taking my baby for a walk to the park opposite the street. It’s much too dangerous to walk outside, even in broad daylight, but Quincy is not the average man, plus he’s armed with three guns, a couple of knives, and Bruno.
The minute they’re gone, Rhett starts vacuuming with the speed of superman while I go back to the books, pouring over balance statements.
He nudges my feet with the vacuum pipe. “Lift.”
I cross my ankles on the desk, waiting for him to finish. The gun he always carries in the back of his waistband shows as the hem of his sweater shifts up with his movements.
When he switches off the machine, I say, “I’d like to start training again.” Even if Gabriel cleaned up the business, it still remains risky because of the old stigma. People may hold vendettas. Besides, the city will always be dangerous.
He props his hands on his hips. “I agree.”
His easy agreement surprises me. I expected him to argue, but the fact that he doesn’t, tells me how volatile and vulnerable my situation is.
“What does Dr. Engelbrecht say?” he asks. “Are you ready?”
“I’m ready.”
“Tonight.” He seals the deal with a nod. “I’m going to check on Quincy.” He pulls the gun from his waistband and leaves it on my desk. “Lock the door behind me.”
I haven’t been to Berea since the day Jerry gave me a stolen car, but it doesn’t mean Berea won’t come to me.
I have an hourly interview with the five candidates for the CFO position I got from Michael’s contact at the business school. Rhett is rocking Connor, and Quincy is playing darts with Charlie in my office. Not the most professional image, but both men refused to budge for the interviews.
The first man is in his fifties. He lost his job when the company he worked for folded, and at his age, especially with the high unemployment rate and affirmative action law, it will be tough for him to find another job. As he has a family to feed, my terms don’t work for him, so we move on to number two.
A young graduate, I take an immediate like to his enthusiasm. He’s not overly keen on working for a minimal wage with the long-term, uncertain promise of risky profit shares, but before he can make up his mind, Rhett shakes his head.
“Uh-uh. He won’t do.”
I turn in my chair. “Excuse me?”
“He’s a no go.” Rhett takes a threatening stance, which has the guy opposite me cower.
“Can you please give us a second?” I direct the young man to the entrance and close the door. “What are you doing, Rhett?”
“He was checking out your boobs.”
“What?”
“He looked at you in that way.”
“I agree,” Quincy chirps in. “He won’t do.”
“Jeez, guys, give me a break. I’m trying to employ someone for the lowest of salaries to help us make big money.”
They both give me their obstinate stares.
“Can we just get through the interviews without any comments from you?”
Neither answers.
I sigh and stick my head around the doorframe. “You can come back in.”
The young man gives me an apologetic smile. “I thought about it while I waited, and I’m sorry, but it’s not for me.”
He leaves without saying goodbye.
“Now look what you’ve done,” I exclaim on a huff.
They look too damn pleased with themselves, as if they fought a wolf off a lamb.
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