by Sue Rabie
David tried not to look at her.
‘The rest of the village is already at the club,’ Du Plessis was saying as David approached. ‘May says the passengers can stay upstairs in her flat for the night,’ he went on. ‘The snow’s too heavy to get to Malan’s. I’ll take them in the morning, it’s not too far to walk.’
David nodded. May’s tearoom had a large flat above, with three bedrooms, a study, dining room and a comfortable lounge.
David was just thinking how lucky they were that they didn’t have to go anywhere else in the snow again, when he felt a touch on his arm. ‘Hello, David,’ May said.
She was holding two mugs of coffee, her long dark hair untied so that it fell along her face and rested on her shoulder. She was so like Charlene. She smiled as he stared into her eyes.
The same blue, the same long lashes.
His breath burned in his lungs. He was hardly aware of taking the coffee as she gave him the cup.
‘Are you all right?’ she asked. ‘You look tired.’
He shook the fog from his mind. ‘It’s been a long day.’
‘Can I get you something to eat?’
‘No,’ he replied.
She hesitated a moment then left. David mentally kicked himself for his abrupt reply. He watched her moving from table to table offering the passengers more coffee, then quickly drank his as she began leading people through the tearoom and up to her rooms where they were to stay for the night.
‘Let’s go,’ he told Mark as she left the room.
Mark looked at him strangely, as did Du Plessis.
‘Go?’ Mark echoed. ‘Where?’
David set the empty coffee cup down. ‘Back to Elandskrans,’ he told him. ‘We promised them help and I’ve already loaded supplies into the horsebox.’
He needed to get away, wanted to leave rather than stay and watch May.
‘I don’t think so, David,’ Mark said. ‘You need to rest. I need to rest. There’ll be plenty of time later.’
‘No, there won’t, Mark,’ David told him. ‘The longer we wait, the longer those people have to suffer.’
Mark sighed with barely concealed exasperation. ‘They’ll be fine for tonight, David.’
‘He’s right, David,’ the Sergeant added. ‘You don’t have to go out again tonight.’
He seemed sympathetic, almost pitying.
David felt his anger rise. ‘We should go anyway,’ he growled. ‘There’s not enough space for everyone here.’
‘You’re welcome to stay down here. I have spare blankets and pillows …’
This came from May. She had returned from seeing the last of the passengers to their rooms. She was carrying the blankets and pillows, and David felt his stomach churn. The thought of staying in the tearoom was too much for him, the thought of having her so close, of the constant reminders.
‘Thank you,’ David said, ‘but I can walk home before the snow gets much worse.’
Mark and Du Plessis both glanced out of the front window. The snow was coming down hard and fast.
‘Too late,’ Du Plessis said and sighed. ‘It’s already worse.’
David would have to stay now. There was no other choice. The snow was too heavy.
‘Eish!’ Phiwe exclaimed as he came through the door in a swirl of snow. ‘It’s thick out there. I barely made it here without getting lost.’
David looked at Mark who shrugged helplessly and clapped him on the back as if to commiserate.
May showed Du Plessis and Mark to her lounge upstairs, then showed Phiwe to the back room she normally lent to her cook on a busy night.
David was left alone with the pile of blankets.
He looked around wordlessly, thinking of his life before.
Charlene had made him sleep on the sofa once. He had forgotten their anniversary and she had slammed their bedroom door in his face. He’d had to scrounge for pillows and blankets that time, had spent an uncomfortable night berating himself and trying to fit his length onto the two-seater in the lounge. But Charlene had made up for it the next morning, by waking him with a hand on his cheek and a sly look on her face as she slipped her fingers into his shirt.
How he missed her. How he missed Janey.
‘Don’t,’ he told himself in the silence of the dark tearoom. ‘Don’t think about it.’
He sat on the corner of the booth and took off his jacket. His toes were burning, the heels of his feet rubbed raw, but he left his boots on. He didn’t want to get too comfortable, not while others waited on him, not while they suffered in the cold. He lay back slowly and shut his eyes. He felt guilty about the comfort, felt guilty about doing nothing while the others waited. He should be out there. He should be doing something.
Unaware, he slipped into sleep.
❄
It was much later that he heard anything other than the moan of the wind outside. ‘David …?’ came the soft call through the door.
When there was no response the door was pushed open and May Jordaan stepped into the room.
‘David?’
He lay unmoving on the padded bench, stretched full length on his back with a blanket tangled around his legs. One arm dangled over the edge of the seat, while the other lay across his stomach.
May walked quietly up and stood over him as he slept.
The stubble was dark against his pale skin, the smudged shadows beneath his eyes deeper than before. But there was another difference. The faint lines on either side of his mouth were not so apparent in the relaxation of sleep, the frown between his eyes also gone.
He looked younger. Much younger.
She leant over him. ‘David?’ she whispered.
David came half awake. ‘Charlene?’ he muttered in his sleep. ‘Is that you?’
May stepped back as he came awake.
He blinked at the faint flush of dawn already brightening the window, then looked at her. She saw the soft smile disappear to be replaced with a flash of pain as he realised who she was. He must have been dreaming. Of his wife.
She saw his expression return to its usual cast.
May cleared her throat. ‘I hope I didn’t startle you,’ she apologised.
He sat up slowly, not taking his eyes off her as he swung his feet to the floor.
She wanted to reassure him, wanted to tell him everything was all right, that the secret he was keeping didn’t matter to her. ‘I …’ she began. ‘I just came to wake you,’ she managed, wringing the words out. ‘Mark is waiting for you in the kitchen.’
She tried to cover her awkwardness by gathering up the blankets, before hurrying back towards the kitchen where Mark Werner was making coffee.
‘May …?’
She stopped, her hand on the door, her mind telling her how stupid she was, what a silly, foolish girl she had been.
‘Thank you,’ he said.
May Jordaan hesitated a moment, then smiled as she left the room.
Seven
❄
They left an hour after dawn; the snow even deeper than before. They left without telling anybody; not the passengers still asleep upstairs in May’s rooms and not Alex Kyle.
Perhaps it was prudent not to have told him. Perhaps they delayed what was to happen by making that one last trip themselves. But then again perhaps they made things worse by not telling him, by going alone and not taking him along.
David would never know.
He thought about it many times after that, thought about what he could have done differently, about how he could have changed what happened, but looking back he knew that fate would have taken him along the same road no matter what he had done. He had a promise to keep to the people at Elandskrans, had food and wood to deliver. Above all he kept his promises, even though it was this that had brought him here, this that had taken his wife and child away.
‘Please, Daddy,’ Janey had whispered. ‘Please, make it stop …’
She had seemed so grown up then. He had felt so helpless.
‘
I will,’ he had told her. ‘I promise.’
Just like the promise to the people at Elandskrans.
‘Don’t … Daddy, please, don’t …’
He quickly shut out the sound of her voice and concentrated on driving the grader. The path he had cleared to Elandskrans the day before was completely obscured, only the tops of the fences, the telephone poles and the occasional tree that lined the route telling him where he was.
But they got there eventually.
‘I told them you would come,’ the induna said as he and his son stood beside the grader. ‘Inga had doubts.’
David glanced at the younger man as he shook the induna’s hand.
The few people who had gathered to greet them were hunkered deep into their coats.
‘My son owns the taxis that you see down there,’ the induna said, pointing to the two snow-encased vehicles standing beside the huts in the valley. ‘Every day he carries people to the big city. That place has made him mistrust people, but I knew you would keep your word.’
Inga scowled as he went across to the horsebox hitched to the grader and glanced inside.
‘It’s not much,’ David told them, referring to the supplies. ‘It was all I could get for now.’
‘Perhaps it will stop snowing and we will not need more,’ the induna replied.
David hoped he was right.
The induna nodded and signalled the women to begin unpacking the horsebox. ‘Where will you go now?’ he asked.
‘Back to the Werner’s farm,’ David said, looking towards the pass. ‘There are others there and not much food for them to eat.’
The induna nodded. ‘It is the same for everyone now; the whites and blacks alike,’ he said. ‘Soon we will all have to come together under one roof.’
David glanced at the induna who was looking up into the falling snow.
‘I saw it like this once before, when my father’s father was still alive. It came down for two weeks, the white and the cold. When the cattle died the children were put into one room with the last of the wood. My father and another man went to the white man for help, to ask for food and wood.’
David waited, looking at the lined face of the man standing beside him. ‘What happened?’ he asked eventually.
The induna shrugged and turned away. ‘The snow stopped the next day,’ he said. ‘We tore down the wall of the kraal and ate the dead cattle. But I never saw my father again.’
It was a disturbing story and David dwelt on it as the unloading was completed and they made ready to leave once more.
He had thought the supplies would be enough, but now he knew that they wouldn’t last, that he would have to come back.
‘If the snow continues I will bring more,’ he told the old man as he made for the grader.
‘You will not eat with us?’ the induna called up to him as he climbed into the cab. ‘You are welcome.’
‘No, thank you,’ David said. ‘You’ll need all you have. We’ll eat at the Werner’s farm.’
They were waved goodbye, the women ululating over the rattle and grunt of the grader as it once more made its way past the cattlefold and up the small pass towards the crossroads and the Werner’s farm.
The snow was falling thickly again by the time they reached Mark’s home.
David drove the grader around the back of the farmhouse, avoiding the front stoep which was almost completely covered with snow that had drifted in from the south.
Anri was there to greet them. She was clearly relieved to see them. ‘I was so worried,’ she said, as Mark emerged from the horsebox. ‘I thought something had happened.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Mark said as he hugged her. ‘We couldn’t come back last night, the snow was too heavy and we were closer to Boston than the farm. Besides,’ he added. ‘I knew there wouldn’t be enough for everyone if we brought them back here.’
Anri looked up. ‘You found them?’
Mark smiled down at her. ‘We didn’t. The induna at Elandskrans did, old M’Kathle Ngubane.’
Anri hugged him again. ‘At least they’re safe,’ she muttered. ‘And you too, both of you. At least you’re home.’
David frowned as he stood watching them hold each other on the top step of the stoep. He had heard something in her voice, something more than concern, fear almost.
Mark had heard it too. ‘What is it?’ he asked. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing,’ she smiled. ‘I’m just glad you’re here.’
‘No,’ her husband said. ‘Something’s happened. Tell me what it is?’
‘I’m not sure it’s anything,’ Anri told him. ‘Maybe it’s my imagination. Maybe it’s just the tension.’
David looked up at the back door.
No one else had come out with Anri to greet them, but he could sense someone watching them from the kitchen window, could sense a presence behind the closed door.
He glanced at Anri and Mark and went to let himself in.
There were three people in the kitchen. One was the black woman, Miriam. She was sitting at the kitchen table, her hands in her lap and her eyes on David as he entered.
She smiled briefly and then glanced to the right.
David followed her gaze.
The second person in the room was Jake. He stood next to the window over the sink, holding the thin lace curtain aside so he could look out over the back stoep at the grader parked there.
He was watching Anri and Mark who were still outside. The fleeting expression David saw on his face as he turned from the window was not a particularly pleasant one.
David glanced past him to the person standing at the far side of the room.
Michelle MacFarlane.
She was stirring something on the stove, porridge by the looks of it, her movements slow and easy as the porridge began to thicken. She was concentrating on the pot, her long blonde hair falling forward over her face so that he could only see her mouth.
She looked up slowly and he thought he saw her smile.
‘Where is Kyle?’
David turned back towards the question.
He didn’t answer straight away.
‘Where the fuck is Kyle?’ Jake asked again, taking a step forward.
David felt his hackles rise. So this was the problem. Jake must have been running his mouth off again, upsetting everyone with his short temper and foul language.
‘He’s in Boston,’ he told Jake as he began taking his gloves off. ‘We’ve come back to collect the rest of you and bring food and supplies to Elandskrans.’
‘You left him there?’
‘Yes,’ he said, and turned to take his jacket off.
He shouldn’t have turned his back. Suddenly he was slammed forwards, his breath thumped from him as he collided with the wall.
‘Liar!’ came a snarl in his ear as David was pinned against the wood, a hand forcing his head against the smooth grain. ‘What have you done with him!’
David was momentarily stunned. He had not anticipated the attack, had been caught off guard. He tried to push away, but grunted as the hand curled into his hair and pulled his head back. His right arm was wrenched behind him painfully and he was slammed once more into the hard surface.
‘Hey!’ someone shouted. ‘Jake! What are you doing!’ A woman’s voice. Michelle.
‘Where is he!’ Jake snarled into his ear.
David tried to twist away, but Jake forced his arm higher between his shoulder blades, making him gasp.
‘Let him go!’ Michelle tried again.
She had stepped away from the stove, standing with the dripping spoon in her hand. Miriam was also standing, staring open-mouthed at the assault.
‘Not until I find out where Kyle is!’ Jake spoke to the girl, but all his anger was directed at David. ‘Where the hell is he! What have you done with him!’
David grunted as his cheek was ground into the wood. He struggled to speak, the strain on his neck and the pain in his shoulder excruciating. ‘I told you …’ he g
asped. ‘He’s with the others …’
There was a loud bang of a door behind him.
Mark.
‘Let him go!’ Mark roared.
Jake must have known his violence was misplaced. He snarled at Mark, but eventually did as he was told, though not before shoving David roughly into the wall once more for good measure. David staggered, his shoulder on fire, then spun on his attacker.
‘Leave it, David,’ Mark growled. ‘He’s not worth it.’
David seethed, but kept his anger in check as Jake backed towards the kitchen door. The expression on Jake’s face was savage. ‘He’d better be there,’ he warned them. ‘You’d better take me to him or I’ll make you wish you’d never found us.’
The door opened as he retreated, revealing the slight figure of the boy wrapped in a bulky blanket. He was looking in at the commotion, a slight sheen of sweat on his face and his ebony skin unusually pale against the dark blanket. He had obviously been woken by the noise and had now stumbled into the fray.
Jake glared at the boy, then stormed past him.
The door swung slowly shut.
❄
‘Lord …’ Mark muttered as he watched David rub his shoulder. ‘What was that all about?’
‘He does not like you, Mr David,’ Miriam said, as she went across to the boy and took his hand to lead him to the table. ‘And he is also afraid.’ She sat the boy down next to David.
‘Jake? Afraid?’ David asked, glancing from the boy to her. ‘Afraid of what?’
Miriam touched her hand to the boy’s forehead, frowning as she felt heat there.
‘It’s the snow,’ Michelle offered. ‘It’s making everyone jumpy. Perhaps it would be best if you did what he said and took him to the others. At least then Kyle will be able to keep him in line.’
They all agreed with her, but it was Mark who suggested that he tell the others that they should collect their few remaining possessions together and prepare for the trip immediately.
❄
Mark went to prepare the others for departure, Anri and Miriam left with the boy, and David and Michelle stood alone in front of the fire.
David unconsciously rubbed at his wrist.
‘Did he hurt you?’ Michelle asked.