by Eva Mazza
“Say it, John. That word seems to roll off your tongue so easily. Do you even realise how jarring it is? I heard you use that word on your own son, and now it looks like it’s my turn. Say it. Come on, I know you want to.”
John narrowed his eyes at her, weighing up the challenge.
“You cunning cunt,” he said after a moment. “There, I said it. And it feels good.”
“Lovely. You feel vindicated. I’m happy you do, because I will be divorcing you, John. After the service tomorrow, I’ll be packing my things and moving out. Leonard Mazwai, my attorney, will be serving you with papers for an interim divorce settlement. He’ll make sure I live in the style to which I’m accustomed. He will also ensure that I am justly rewarded for the pain and suffering you have caused.”
John snorted. “You’re fucking delusional. You’ve been watching too many chick flicks, baby.”
Jen got up. “I’m not your baby. And don’t undermine chick flicks. It’s antagonists like you who make the chick flick so popular. Oh, and just a friendly reminder of your huge financial gain when you married me. A little reimbursement at this point would be good.” She now looked at him, really saw him. His fists were balled, and he looked like a bull ready to charge.
“Goodnight, sleep tight,” she sang cheerily, though shaking with anger. Jen walked out of the lounge and down the passage. She stopped at Brigit’s bedroom and knocked quietly on her door.
“Brig?”
“Leave me alone!” Brigit barked. “I don’t want to speak to you or Dad.”
Then Jen did something she couldn’t remember doing since Brigit had been a child. She put her foot down.
“I’m not asking you, Brigit, I’m telling you. Unlock your door. I need to talk to you and Pete.”
A moment later, Brigit appeared and reluctantly followed Jen to Pete’s cottage. On seeing them, he turned off the television and sat up. “What’s up?”
“Mom wants to chat to us. After being unavailable without any explanation for days, we now have to make ourselves available when she sees fit,” Brigit snapped.
The realisation that Brigit was, without a doubt, John’s daughter dawned on Jen. They were two peas in a pod: surly, bombastic and self-absorbed.
“Thank you, Brigit. That’s enough,” Jen said firmly.
“Please tell me you’re leaving him,” Pete said.
“Yes. I am. I’m sorry I’ve made it so difficult for you these past few days. It wasn’t my intention, but I needed time away from everyone and everything to try to figure out…”
Jen hesitated. She knew she had to be as honest as she could with her children. Although not everything in life had to be shared, some things needed to be divulged for clarity, and to move on.
“I can’t stay married, because your father has cheated on me.”
“We know,” Brigit said.
“He’s a cheating, lying…” Pete interjected. Jen stopped him.
“Don’t! Just remember that we’re all human. I am not defending your dad, but he is your father.” Brigit and Pete looked at each other. Jen continued. “I’m not guiltless myself.”
“What do you mean?” Pete asked.
“I have also kept a secret for years. I did want to tell your dad, but then I discovered I was pregnant. I was afraid he would leave me if he knew. So, I kept it from him to save my reputation and our relationship.”
Pete paused, a glass of red wine halfway to his mouth. “What secret?”
“I slept with Lee. Once. While Dad and I were dating.”
She waited for this to sink in, particularly with Brigit. She wanted to run away and hide, knowing the furore her revelation was about to cause.
“And you got pregnant? Oh my God!”
It was just as she’d expected: Brigit was incensed.
“I could be Lee’s daughter?”
Jen didn’t answer.
“I can’t believe you. Pretending to be as pure as the driven snow! You cheated on Dad, and then you married him, knowing full well that I could be Lee’s child? I can’t believe you! I, I’m going to be sick.”
Brigit stumbled out of the room, slamming the cottage door behind her.
Pete called after her but stayed where he was. Then he looked at his mother.
“That’s a bit of a mind fuck for Brig, Ma!”
“Pour me a glass of that wine you’re drinking, Pete.” Pete got up, returning with a bottle of wine in one hand and a glass for Jen in the other.
“Keeping it a secret seemed like the right thing to do at the time,” Jen told her son. He handed her a full glass of red wine. She took a sip before she continued. “I felt I had no choice. My mother was already ashamed that I had fallen pregnant. My father would’ve been turning in his grave. I was already a huge disappointment, and I had to make it right. Lee tried pursuing me, but I loved your dad. You must know: I would’ve chosen your dad over Lee, even if I hadn’t been pregnant.”
“How did it happen?” Pete asked.
“Lee and I were a little drunk and a bit stoned.”
“Stoned?” Pete laughed. “Now I’ve heard it all, Ma.”
Jen looked at her beautiful son. She had to throw him into adulthood whether he wanted to grow up or not. She took a long sip of her wine and savoured the taste before she spoke.
“My lawyer, Leonard Mazwai, would like to meet you tomorrow after Lee’s memorial service. It’s important. It’s about our future and the future of the farm. Will you go?”
Pete nodded.
Thirty-four
Jen had to sneak in through a side door of the Town Hall to avoid the book club girls who were waiting for Frankie at the entrance. The hall had been decorated with photographs of Lee from childhood. The most recent picture of him, Jen realised, had been taken at John’s party, which was the last time she had seen him.
She noticed Ron Opilet, sitting a few rows ahead of her. Surely he wasn’t there as Lee’s lawyer? Could it be that they had some other connection? Jen wouldn’t be surprised if he was one of Lee’s illicit business associates. He had a shady look that made her think he probably had a finger in many pies.
The service had been scheduled for eleven. At half past, Jen heard a commotion behind her at the entrance to the hall and, along with the rest of the congregation, she turned around to see the book club girls, led by Shelley, greet Frankie and Clive at the door with teary hugs and kisses. The congregation stood as Frankie swept to the front row, while the farm workers led the mourners, accompanied by the organist, in singing ‘Amazing Grace’.
Jen had wondered how she would feel seeing Frankie. She couldn’t help thinking she played a fine grieving widow. My ex-best friend is an expert at role-play. Frankie had played Lee’s besotted girlfriend and his vixen wife to the envy of everyone. When Clive was born, she took on the role of milf. So much so that Clive appeared to be little more than a wonderful accessory. The role of Jen’s best friend had been her best performance to date.
Frankie, appearing distraught but strong, was carefully and alluringly dressed. Patty caught Jen’s eye from across the aisle. It was as if she had read Jen’s thoughts, and they smiled knowingly at each other.
The minister took to the podium once Frankie, Clive and the group of women were seated. He welcomed the mourners and thanked them for joining Lee’s family in “bidding farewell to Lee Holms: respected husband, father, son and friend”.
Jen noticed that she wasn’t the only one to shift uncomfortably as he went on to remind them of life’s only certainty: death.
“You cannot live your life here on earth by your rules. God has given you a set of rules to live by. Remember the Ten Commandments?
“Are you living as God would have you live in this life? The party, dear friends, is not here on earth, it is in heaven.”
That was pretty sobering, Jen thought. Patty looked at her and pulled a face as if to say, I guess I’m not going to any party in heaven!
Jen smiled and shrugged, trying to convey a silent I
t seems we’re all doomed.
“Let us pray for the soul of the deceased, Lee Holms, and for the souls of everyone gathered here today.”
The congregation rose and sang the hymn ‘Be Still and Know That I Am God’.
John then got up to speak. “Pastor Donald would be remiss if he didn’t remind us of our own deaths. This is, after all, part of his job, which he has carried out very well. Thank you, Pastor Donald. I speak for myself when I say that I am truly rattled.”
There were a few chuckles from the congregation.
“We’re here to celebrate the life of Lee, as well as mourn his death. I think we can safely say that we are all sinners. I am counting on God being a loving God and a forgiving God. If, as Pastor Donald says, there’s a party in heaven, God would have no guests if he didn’t make a few concessions; and I’m sure that Lee will be one God would invite to the celebration. What kind of a party would it be without him?”
Everyone laughed. Even Jen caught herself smiling. This is why I fell for him. He has a sense of humour and he can get away with being cheeky.
“I have known Lee ever since we were old enough to be aware of one another’s existence. We grew up as brothers; Lee had no siblings and I only had sisters. Our mothers were friends and from an early age we would play while they met for tea. We went to school together and that’s where we met the rest of the gang: Frans, Larry, Matthew, Jesse, Dwain and Luke. As a group, we were formidable. Since pre-primary school, we have done just about everything together. The group can attest to Lee’s and my competitive streak. We competed for everything. Instead of pushing us apart, it brought us together.
“We have so many fond memories of Lee that we will treasure. He was too young to be taken away from us, and so tragically. He has left an indelible mark on everyone who knew him. A kinder, more compassionate and generous man, you’d struggle to find. You will be forever missed, bud. Cheers, and keep a place up there for all of us.”
If I didn’t know what John has been up to, I would be moved. Jen was starting to believe that she was married to a sociopath. How else does he manage to stand up there without flinching?
She felt deeply sorry for Clive when it was his turn to speak. From what she could see, he’d managed to hold himself together until that moment. She could tell from his shaking shoulders that he was sobbing. The mourners waited for him to compose himself before he spoke.
“My dad is my hero. He has been my mentor ever since I can remember. He was there when I took my first steps and he was there to help me ride my bike. He was a father who instilled so many values in me. He taught me kindness. He said it was easy to humiliate those who were supposedly socially inferior, but all this showed, he said, was ill breeding. My dad said there was plenty to be learned from every human being, no matter their status, sex, religion or age.”
He took a deep, juddering breath.
“He practised what he preached. He acknowledged the people who showed commitment to their work. Boss Sarel Jenkins is a fine example of a man who started as a labourer, but who worked himself up to farm manager.” The congregation turned to search out Boss Sarel, who looked down at his hands. “He has often said that he was lucky to have worked for my father, as he doubted whether he would’ve been given the same opportunities elsewhere.” The labourers and Sarel nodded in agreement.
“My dad saw the diamond in my mom. He saw her beauty and he saw her strength and he defied everyone and married her.” It was at this point that Jen heard the devastating gasp and cries from Frankie. Her friends placed loving arms around her, and Jen herself wished that she could do the same. If only. But she checked herself. “He was always in awe of her,” Clive continued with a gentle smile. “My dad loved life. I am happy that he has left this world having done just about everything he dreamed of doing, from running one of the top wine farms in our area, to travelling extensively, to buying his dream car. He loved fast cars and to own a Ferrari was his ultimate dream.”
The congregation acceded with whispers and nods.
“I will always love him. I will always remember him. And I will always aspire to be like him.
“Rest in peace, Dad. I feel blessed that you are still a part of us when I see those barrels of wine and when I drink our famous Cabernet.”
Frankie’s quiet sobs accompanied her son’s words.
“I would like to end off by playing a song that meant so much to my parents. My mother has asked me to thank you, on her behalf, for your love and support over this trying time.”
As the song began, Jen rushed out of the hall. She had come to pay her last respects, and this had been accomplished without too much discomfort. She ran through the foyer and straight into the book club girls, who were preparing tea and eats for the mourners.
“Jen!” Shelley enthused unconvincingly. “You’re here. How are you?”
“Hi, everyone,” Jen said uncomfortably. “Terrible tragedy, isn’t it?”
“It is,” Patricia agreed. “Such a tragic thing to happen.”
“What’s also pretty tragic,” Shelley interrupted, “is your absence. Could you not find it in your heart to reach out to your friend?”
Anne added her two cents’ worth. “No matter what you’re going through, which quite frankly we think is a whole load of shit, the least you could do – the right thing to do – would be to put your angst aside, not only for Lee’s memory, but for Frankie, your supposed best friend.”
“You’re right,” Jen said. “It is absolutely unforgivable, at face value. But honestly, ladies, having known me for so long, do you really think I’d stay away unless something very serious had happened?”
They were silent. Patricia stopped arranging the cocktail sandwiches and Anne raised her eyebrows. They loved a good story and it seemed they were going to get the scandal they craved.
“What could be so bad that you couldn’t be here for Frankie?”
Jen looked at Shelley and said, “You and I never really had a real friendship, did we? We’re friends because of our husbands. You’ve always held a grudge, because you think I stole John from you. Well, the good news, Shelley, is that I inadvertently saved you from John.”
She then turned to Anne. “As for you, Anne, it seems as if you have finally found an ‘in’ in the group, now that I’m leaving.”
“Leaving book club?” Anne asked.
“No, Anne. John.”
Their mouths dropped open at her candour.
“There, that should give you something to skinner about! God knows, your lives would be pretty dull if you didn’t have something or someone to talk about. I’m sure that you wouldn’t care to phone me. But you know my number, if you do decide to find it in your hearts to ‘reach out’.” She looked at Shelley. “To quote you, Shelley.”
Jen strode out, tears streaming down her cheeks. She had said goodbye to Lee, her friend and silent ally, and she had said goodbye to her girlfriends, who at one time had meant the world to her – who she had thought had made her life worthwhile.
She drove directly to the farm to collect her belongings. True to form, efficient Gladys had Jen’s suitcases packed and ready at the front door. With the help of one of the farm labourers, they loaded them into her four-wheel drive. Jen would be happy to trade in her car for a zippier model better suited to the city’s traffic. But for now, she was glad to have the boot space.
Gladys seemed to be more upset than anyone else at the idea of Jen leaving.
“I’m going to miss you, Gladys,” Jen said, hugging her. “I don’t think you realise quite what you mean to me. I would never have managed without you. You’ve always been a constant help. Thank you so much.”
Gladys hugged her back hard.
Jen pulled an envelope from her bag and gave it to Gladys with both hands. “Here’s something for you, for all that you’ve done for me.” It was filled with money, all of John’s winnings. She also handed Gladys two small boxes, each containing a gold coin.
She didn’t wai
t for Gladys to thank her. She didn’t want to be thanked. She wished that she could have given her so much more. And one day, she vowed, she would.
Jen drove out of town with her music blaring. Her phone’s playlist was on shuffle and the song that wafted through her speakers first was ‘Figure 8’ by Ellie Goulding. The lyrics reminded her of her passionate one-night stand with Lee.
She wondered what her life would have been like if she had married him. Until now, she had never allowed herself to entertain these thoughts. The only way to survive her marriage – and be happy – had been to block out the could-haves and the should-haves. But the song was so haunting and full of love and pathos that she allowed her mind to stray to that night.
She accelerated down the highway, listening to the song playing full blast, over and over again. The tears streaked her face. It was such a beautiful memory. Why had she been so hell-bent on trying to forget it? But then she smiled. There was no need to any more. She was free to remember and to recall every moment.
They had fallen asleep on the back of Lee’s truck, waking as the sun began to rise. Realising what she had done had filled her with such remorse she’d started crying. Lee had taken her in his arms and kissed every part of her face: her eyes, her ears, her forehead, her cheeks and finally her mouth. He whispered the exact words of the chorus of this song – “I need you” – repeatedly, trying to persuade her that what had happened between them was something special, something to be treasured.
“Remembering is just as important as forgetting,” she thought out loud.
Secretly, she hoped that Brigit was Lee’s child – a testament to their young love.
Thirty-five
John joined everyone for tea and cake in the foyer after the service, greeting the people he knew and making the polite chit-chat that one does. He had caught a glimpse of Patty making an exit from the memorial service soon after Frankie’s song had started playing. Jen had also left without giving her condolences. He was livid. She could have at least sympathised with Clive and Lee’s parents.