Sex, Lies & Stellenbosch

by Eva Mazza

  “And how are you married?” Claudia asked.

  “Community of property. There’s no way we can halve what we have. And it would mean having to sell the farm. I’d be doing Brigit and Pete a huge disservice.”

  “As much as you want your children to hold the institution of marriage in high regard, what kind of message will you give them by staying married because you’ve ‘nowhere to go’? Goodness knows, Jen, one is a woman. What is she learning about women and choices from you? And Pete? He needs to learn that women are strong. You are, after all, their role model.”

  Jen hadn’t ever looked at it from this angle. If she had to consider how she had conducted herself over the years, she really hadn’t shown her children how to be strong. Although, to be fair, she had shown resilience, and she had shown that marriage needed compromise and commitment. With hindsight, it seemed as if she had been the only one who had done the compromising, although John had always shown commitment. Until now. Jen took a long sip from her cocktail. It was clear this was not going to be easy, whatever she decided to do.

  “Look, Jen, I’m serious when I say that Leonard knows a thing or two about divorce and that he’ll make sure you get what you deserve. I know it’s not in your children’s interests for you to cripple John financially, and I don’t think you’ll feel vindicated by this, but I do think that if you are going to leave him, you need to do so with a settlement that you’re entitled to. For years you’ve believed that you’ve added nothing to your husband’s business, yet you’ve contributed vast amounts of money to the farm. And let’s not forget that being a mother is priceless. What’s worse is that it seems he hasn’t even acknowledged this.”

  Jen lay back on her deck chair. “No, he has! He has, Claudia. He’s always told me he loves me. He’s been a good husband and father.” She lifted her head to the sun and let the warm rays soak into her skin, as if they would somehow imbue her with strength. “I know it sounds like I’m defending him.”

  “Do you have any money, Jen?” Claudia asked. “The initial cost of going to a good lawyer is huge, but if you do decide to divorce you can claim costs from John.”

  Jen thought about it. Actually, she did have some money stashed away like a miser in her bottom shoe drawer.

  “I do,” she said. “I have about fifty thousand in cash. Is this enough?”

  “God girl, more than enough! What did you do, rob a bank?”

  Jen laughed. She told Claudia about John’s poker nights and she felt a resurgence of warmth towards him when she relayed how generous he had been, and still is, by giving her his winnings. Claudia frowned and asked Jen about the seemingly innocent boys’ night out.

  “Well, it started off at a men’s-only drinking spot in Stellenbosch and then they became more serious about the game. For about the past two years they’ve been going to Cape Town to a poker club. I know they’re spending a fortune there, and I think that’s why John gives me his winnings; he feels guilty about his indulgence. He said it’s insanely overpriced but he’s part of the group. It’s the way things have always worked with his friends.”

  Claudia’s frown deepened. “Do you know the poker club’s name? Have you seen any credit card statements?”

  “Yes, it’s called something like Boys’ Gaming or Boys’ Games. Not sure. Why?”

  “Jesus, Jen. Your husband and his friends have been going to an upmarket brothel.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Jen, there are high-class, highly paid prostitutes strutting their stuff there. The ‘gentlemen’ play all sorts of card games, yes, but there’s a sexual twist to the games. What’s more, whatever the sexual fantasy, within reason, will be played out for the client, at a fee, of course.”

  Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! How much more of this do I have to take? She tried to compose herself. She was hoarse when she did eventually speak. “How do you know?”

  “I told you. My boyfriend rubs shoulders with celebrities and wealthy businessmen. His colleague was invited there by one of the clients whom he had represented. He asked Leonard to tag along. It was the client’s way of saying thank you to Ron. Look, this is extremely confidential. Leonard would be really upset if he knew I’d told you about this club. He told me in confidence. It’s completely under the radar, and it’s owned by top-notch businessmen – men his firm solicits, relies on, for business. Use this information to make an informed decision about your husband, Jen, but please, I beg you not to say anything to anyone about it. No one must know that you know, including John.”

  Thirteen

  It was nine at night and John had eaten nothing the whole day. No wonder he was so drunk. He staggered from his chair towards the kitchen to make himself a sandwich when the doorbell rang. Who the fuck can it be at this time of night? If it was Lee again... He opened the door. Frankie stood at the threshold wearing a translucent dress with nothing on underneath. Her Louis Vuitton overnight bag hung from the crook of one arm. Lee bought her a piece of Vuitton luggage every year for her birthday. John knew because Jen had told him this ad nauseam.

  “I’ve come for the night,” she purred. Her tone changed. “You’ve been drinking! You smell of whisky and your dick’s hanging out of your pants.”

  John, too drunk to be embarrassed, shoved John-John back inside his pants, slurring as he struggled to zip up his zipper. “Lishen, Frankie, as much as I’d love to fu…ck you the whole night through, I’ve had a crrrap day. I haven’t eaten and I haven’t shlept and pleash don’t forget that my wife shaw Patty giving me a blowjob.”

  Frankie laughed. “That’s why I’m here, to remind you that sex with Patty is nothing in comparison to sex with me, you cheating son of a bitch.”

  “We did not have sheeex,” John slurred. He watched as she sauntered passed him and dropped her priceless bag on the entrance table.

  Frankie laughed uproariously. “Okay, Mr President.” She grabbed his hand and placed it on her crotch. “Feel this. You don’t expect to do nothing about it, do you?”

  He grabbed her arm and twisted her around. He held both her arms up against the door and pushed up against her, trying to recover his balance. He whispered in her ear, “My wife’sh hurting. Have you no fuck…ing shame?”

  Then he released her hands and walked to the bar to pour another drink. “Make me shome shupper,” he ordered. She bent over to get some clothes from her bag. “Nah,” he said, “make my shupper naked.”

  Frankie was only too happy to oblige. John knew she loved the idea of domination. Still in stilettos yet naked except for her translucent shift, she opened the refrigerator and looked inside.

  John watched as she bent over to get the salad from the fridge. He knew that she knew that he was watching her. Fucking tease! John could not resist her.

  There was a crash. He had pushed the fruit bowl off the kitchen counter onto the floor. He sat her on the edge of the countertop and nudged her legs open with his head and ran his tongue up her thigh, pressing hard into her flesh with his hands. He was bruising her, but he knew she loved the sensation of pain and pleasure. His tongue reached her as his hands did and she arched her back and allowed him to do as he wanted. John was an expert. If anyone could attest to this, it was Frankie. His desire to please her intensified her pleasure and, after she had climaxed, he slid her backwards across the counter to make room for himself. His mouth was on her breast and he entered her with such force that she screamed in ecstasy. He slammed into her several times and then it was over. He remained inside her. “How am I shupposed to get rid of you? You are shublime.”

  Frankie’s response was a satisfied smile.

  “I want to keep you locked up. I’d have you as my shex shlave and do things with you twenty-four-sheven. Lee’sss lucky.”

  Frankie kissed him on the mouth long and hard.

  “There’s nothing like marriage to ruin one’s sex life, isn’t there, John?” She climbed off the counter. “Thanks for the reminder! I’d better turn on my phone. Lee
may be trying to get hold of me.”

  John watched her leave the room. She had a hot body and she knew it. Her legs were the longest of any woman he had ever seen. She had beautifully shaped calves and her thighs were free from cellulite and stretch marks. Her breasts were naturally big, and she showed them off as often as she could. As she walked away from him, he watched how they moved, mesmerised.

  “Yourshhh have to be the mosht inviting set of mammary glands I’ve ever come across,” he called at her. She turned to show them off.

  He heard her shout from the lounge, “According to your wife, Patty’s boobs are real.”

  John laughed. “I never kish and tell.” Frankie returned with her phone in her hand, laughing. “After last night, you’re more of a show-and-tell kind of a guy!”

  John ignored her. “My wife can be quite a bitsh about you, Frankie. She says the reashon why you only had one child ish because you are vain, and you didn’t want to get stretch marksh and sagging boobsh.”

  Frankie’s phone was beeping a slew of messages, but she ignored them. “She’s right. I was lucky enough to have escaped them with Clive. There’s no way a second sleepless, demanding baby could be any compensation for losing my sex appeal.”

  “Well, Jen’sh body ishn’t bad for a woman who hash carried two children.” Frankie nodded in agreement. “I offered to pay for her boobsh, but she said the push-up bra does the job jusht fine.”

  Frankie made him coffee while he made a simple salad of lettuce and tomatoes with slices of avocado on each plate. “Maybe you should tell her the truth,” she said mockingly. “That you’re a boob man and the push-up bra isn’t doing it for you.”

  John’s tone was defensive. “My wife ish exactly what I want from a wife. She’sh gorgeoush.”

  “She is pretty,” Frankie said.

  “There’sh no denying that she’sh not like you and Patty. Women like you are made for shex.”

  Frankie laughed at him. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult.”

  “It’sh the truth.” John gulped down his coffee. “You girls love your Hollywood waxes and showing off what’sh on offer. How are we supposed to say no?”

  Frankie wasn’t listening to him. She was listening to her voice messages. He carried on cooking, lightly oiling the frying pan and allowing the salmon to sear on each side. He ground black pepper and salt and squeezed some lemon over the fish.

  He plated the food, but Frankie was in the passage, on the phone.

  Fuck that, he thought, I’m starting without her. He scoffed down his meal ravenously. He had just finished when Frankie walked in, ashen. Panic was written all over her face.

  “What’s wrong?” John asked, sounding completely sober.

  “That pathetic wife of yours tried to get hold of me tonight! She was depressed and needed a shoulder to cry on,” Frankie mocked. “My phone was off, so guess what she did?”

  “Hey, Frankie, Jen’s been through a lot. Don’t be so heartless.”

  “Defend her all you like, John, but we’re about to be exposed for the adulterous couple we are.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She phoned the house and asked for me. I’m supposed to be with her, John!”

  John could not believe what he was hearing. He hated Jen for being such a baby; he hated Frankie for being such a tease; and he hated himself for his lack of will power to say no.

  Frankie saw the terror on his face. “Let’s not panic unnecessarily. Your wife may have been able to salvage the shit she’s caused. She told Lee that she had given strict instructions not to be disturbed and that she had taken a sleeping tablet. She said that perhaps I had booked in to my own lodge.”

  John looked at her unconvinced.

  “It could work,” she continued. “I’ll tell him that that’s exactly what happened: that she didn’t want to be disturbed, so I decided to go into the city to shop and watch a movie. It is a half truth anyway. I did go shopping earlier this evening when he told me he was on his way to you. I couldn’t go back home because I was supposed to be with Jen.” She pressed up against him and placed her hand on his front. “And I was hell-bent on spending the night with you.” She laughed when she saw the worry on his face. “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to phone Lee now to say I’m on my way back from the city and that Jen had wanted to be alone. I just need to take a quick shower.”

  John was fascinated by how calm Frankie could be. It must come with years of practise. He looked at Frankie’s untouched meal and decided he’d eat it; she certainly wasn’t going to be staying. Although, one never could tell with Frankie.

  Lee answered Frankie's call immediately. She could hear the television in the background.

  “Hi, darling, it’s me. I’m on my way back from Cape Town. I decided to take in a movie.”

  “Hold on, I can hardly hear you.” She heard him rummaging for the remote. Then silence.

  “You're sounding upbeat,” Lee said. “Jen’s trying to reach you. I thought you were with her.” His tone was reproachful.

  Frankie was defensive. “I know. That’s why I’m calling you. She told reception that she didn’t want to be disturbed. I tried to persuade them to let me see her, but they refused. So, I thought I’d go to the Waterfront and shop and perhaps go back to the spa later. Except, I decided that it was best for her to be alone. I went to see that show everyone’s raving about. The one that won the Oscar.”

  “I thought we were going to see that together,” he said.

  “I know, I know, but I was there, and our intentions are always good. It was great, and if you want to see it on the big screen, I’ll watch it with you a second time.”

  There was a pause before he spoke.

  “Listen, Frankie, Jen sounded pretty distraught.”

  “Ya, I know,” she said, as she took out her clothes and toiletries from her overnight bag, in preparation for her shower. “I saw her messages as soon as I switched on my phone.”

  “Did you manage to speak to her?”

  “Ya. I did. She’ll be okay.” Frankie’s voice echoed in their friends’ bathroom. “She just needed a shoulder to cry on. She’s fine for the time being, I guess.”

  Lee unpaused the programme he was watching.

  “Okay, darling. Drive carefully. I’ll see you in about forty-five minutes.”

  Frankie showered and dressed in the clothes she had laid out in Jen and John’s bathroom. She walked into John’s kitchen smelling of her signature perfume, Tom Ford’s Black Orchid. Her scent wafted in before she did.

  “You greedy little pig!” she teased when she saw that he had eaten her food. He was sitting on the counter stool and she pressed up against him from behind.

  “I could have you over and over again,” she said, cupping him until he was hard. She whispered, “I can feel that you concur. Well, at least John-John does.”

  He turned around and pulled her towards him. “Do you think it’s ridiculous to give my dick a name?”

  Frankie laughed. “I think it’s quite sexy. You were adamant I address your cock by its name. Why are you asking?”

  John shrugged. Reluctantly, Frankie broke free. “I have to go, darling. Wifely duties an’ all.”

  John laughed, and then became serious. “We have to stop this, Frankie. It’s getting too dangerous. We have to lie low for a while.”

  “You see what you’ve done, John?” she said. “I’m actually pissed off with you. Why did you go and shag another woman? Especially Patty? The last thing we needed was for Jen to find out!”

  John was taken aback. “How the fuck does this affect you?”

  “Don’t be a fool, John. A paranoid wife becomes a snoop, which now makes our meetings more difficult.”

  He kissed her. “I’m sorry. I suppose I never thought this through.”

  Frankie loosened her hair from its high bun, letting it spill over her shoulders.

  “I mean, seriously, do you think I’m jealous of Patty? I really d
on’t give a shit except that it affects us. I’m Jen’s best friend; you had to have known that meeting you on the pretext that I was visiting Jen was the only way we could do this? Especially since Lee apparently knows about my previous little dalliance.”

  John pulled her towards him. “No, don’t,” she said. “I have to get back. The last thing I want is a divorce, John. This affair is as good as it’s ever going to get for us, and now you’ve compromised everything.”

  With that, she pecked him on the cheek and walked out of the kitchen. She closed the front door gently behind her. She didn’t need those bloody ridgebacks to start barking at her and alert the staff of her presence; not that they didn’t know. Staff had the uncanny knack of knowing everything and saying nothing.

  Part Two

  Fourteen

  Frankie tiptoed into the bedroom in the early hours of Monday morning. She didn’t want to disturb Lee, who was lying asleep in bed, a glass of scotch on the bedside table and his glasses perched on the tip of his nose. He had been watching the crime channel, his nightly fix. She undressed quietly, leaving her clothes in a puddle on the floor and climbed naked into bed. She leaned over to remove his glasses and to extricate the television remote from his grip. As usual, as soon as she switched off the television, he woke up.

  “You’re home,” he said sleepily.

  “Yip, I am,” she said, straddling him to place his glasses and the remote next to his scotch. “Drinking in bed?”

  He smiled. Frankie leaned in to kiss her husband, but he turned his face away from her. She’d be happy to go to sleep; she was dead tired. “I see you’re not in the mood.”