Blindside

by Wilna Adriaanse

  “That’s nothing new. Ken Visser is a lowlife and we all know who her heart is set on.”

  “Speaking about Visser – please check whether he left the country during the past two weeks? He’s supposed to have gone up north, but I don’t know if he crossed the border.”

  “I’ll take a look. Anything else?”

  “Allegretti and Visser had something to do with the shooting at Barkov’s place, but they’re denying it. I suspect Barkov knows it. It’s just a matter of time before there’ll be casualties.”

  “And the rumours about Clara Veldman? Are they true?”

  Nick told her Allegretti had not only asked Clara to move in, but said he was going to marry her.

  “Goodness me, who would have taken our Enzio for a romantic?”

  Monica Blake was a South African-born Brit who had gone to school in Johannesburg, studied in London and married a much older diplomat. For ten years they’d travelled the world, living in various places. When he’d died of a heart attack in his sleep one night, she’d locked herself into their Paris apartment for days. On the morning of the funeral she’d emerged and attended the service. The next day she’d applied for a job at Interpol. She was thirty-five. She’d been married to her job ever since. Occasionally a rumour did the rounds about some man or another. If anyone dared to ask, she’d just shrug.

  She was not conventionally beautiful, but she was a striking woman. At fifty-three, she had the kind of flair that appealed to men. Her taste in clothes was European, her hair was streaked with grey and styled by a master. It was generally accepted that she had the shapeliest legs in the bureau. She was fluent in five languages: Afrikaans, Zulu, English, French and Spanish. She could read Italian and Swedish, and was rumoured to be learning Chinese.

  When Nick had asked her one day how she managed it all, she’d replied: “Never underestimate the power of pillow talk.” She’d looked at him with her usual deadpan expression, and he hadn’t been sure whether she was joking.

  Monica was a smart woman who could be immensely loyal, but she did not give in to anyone. She spoke her mind. If you didn’t like it, that was your problem. She seldom swore, but it was always perfectly clear what she meant. A few of her rejoinders had become stock phrases, but no one could make them sound as eloquent as she.

  “Goodness me,” was one of her favourite expressions. Another was “Jeez”. She used the expressions in contexts where no one had used them before. Nick loved it when she raised her eyebrows, pursed her red lips and said slowly, “Well, what do you know!”

  “Williams refuses to let her move in unless she can bring her own security.”

  “Well, what do you know! The sly old fox. He knows just how to get Allegretti’s goat.”

  “It’s an unnecessary complication. I’ve been trying to convince Allegretti to wait a month or two, but he’s so randy, there’s no stopping him.”

  “I think you may be jealous. When last were you randy?”

  “Could we keep my sex life, or lack thereof, out of this conversation, please?”

  “Chin up, darling, you’ll get your turn.” She used the same earnest tone with which she issued commands. He had seen her laugh once or twice, but it was a rare phenomenon. “How long do you think you’ll still need?”

  “I don’t know. If all goes according to plan, we should have enough by the end of the year to make Allegretti Junior cooperate if he doesn’t want to be locked away for a very long time.”

  “Nicky, I know you’re tired and miss your old life, but you really can’t afford to drop the ball now. We’ve come a long way, baby, and the end is in sight. If you’ve ever needed to be sharp, the time is now.”

  “What do you think I’ve been for the past two years?”

  “Hey, remember whose side I’m on. If you want to blow off steam, call me, or go climb Table Mountain. Or swim to Robben Island. As long as you don’t blow off steam in Mrs Visser’s bed. We don’t need that kind of complication.”

  “I’m not going to dignify that with an answer.”

  “Why are you being difficult?”

  “I’m just not sure if it’s all worth it any more. What difference can we possibly make? Isn’t it time to accept that we’ve lost the battle on all levels? It’s like trying to stay afloat in a tsunami with plastic water wings.”

  “At least we’re trying. That’s what’s important.”

  “Bullshit. What’s important is to stop this wave, or to damage it so badly that it will take a few years to recover. We can’t console ourselves with this crap any more. It’s not good enough.”

  “What do you propose?”

  “Blow the fuckers to hell. No more case building. We spend years getting enough evidence to put them away, just to have some crooked advocate or corrupt judge throw out the case because every i wasn’t dotted and every bloody t wasn’t crossed. Do you think Allegretti’s advocates are going to hand him to us on a platter? I’ve got news for you.”

  She didn’t answer. He picked up a pebble and flung it into a rock pool. Watched as it skipped on the surface, then sank. Shoved his sunglasses up onto his forehead and rubbed his eyes.

  “It was good talking to you,” he said, and shifting his sunglasses back down.

  “As always.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going to look for shit.”

  “I’ve never been worried about that. Be safe, and call me every other day from now on.”

  “There’s no need. I don’t have much time.”

  “Nick Malherbe, you’re as good as they come, but I’m still the boss. I really don’t care what you have time for. If I don’t hear from you the day after tomorrow, I’ll bring you in, and that’s not an empty threat. Capiche?”

  “I hear you.”

  When he had put the phone back in his pocket, he stood on the rocks for a while before climbing the steep steps back up to the apartment.

  As well as the two of them got on, Nick knew Monica would not hesitate to carry out her threat. He could say what he liked to her, but an order was not to be disregarded.

  It was five in the afternoon when Ellie finished at the security company’s training facility. She might be running fit, but the workout had not been a game and the instructors were hard men who took no prisoners. Today they had learnt how to cover their clients with lightning speed, and how to get someone in and out of a vehicle quickly. They had jumped over and crawled under obstacles. They’d had to carry one another on their shoulders, and do scores of other physical tasks.

  The adage “avoidance beats confrontation” had been drilled into them.

  Something she didn’t need to be taught was to be alert and focused. Her dad had played that game with her since she’d been very young. He’d had no patience for people who didn’t pay attention.

  Something else that had been drilled into them was the importance of staying calm. “A cool head, ladies and gentlemen,” was the mantra of the big, bald instructor with the scar over his eye. “Cowboys get killed.”

  She couldn’t wait to get home. But first she had to call on her mom. The traffic out of town was heavy and she cursed herself for not waiting until after peak hour. She ended up behind a few heavy vehicles, and put her music on and tried to slow down her breathing. She liked driving, and she liked speed. As much as she liked people and company, there were two places where she didn’t mind being alone: in her own home and in her car, somewhere on the highway. Albert didn’t understand it, and neither did her mother. But her dad had understood. The two of them had often argued, but he had understood who she was.

  She felt the heaviness settling on her and made a conscious effort to breathe. Would this feeling ever go away? She rolled down the window, but nearly choked on the exhaust fumes of the trucks up ahead and closed it again. There’d been no wind for ages; the city was cloaked in grey smog.

  Her mom was watching one of her soaps when Ellie walked in. The dog was at her feet. She couldn’t decide who she felt sorrier for. How did you
grieve for someone you had been angry with for so long?

  A long time ago, when Ellie had asked her why she was so angry with her dad, the reply was: “He didn’t keep his promises.”

  “What promises didn’t he keep?” she had asked. “You live in a comfortable house. You’ve never needed to go back to work. He doesn’t have a roving eye, and he doesn’t abuse you. I’d say you didn’t do too badly.”

  “Do you think that’s all it’s about? A roof over my head, the fact that I don’t have to work and that he doesn’t abuse me?” her mother had said. “Lord, it’s a wonder you’re not married, if that’s all you expect from a man. If those are your criteria, you could find any number of men right here who would comply.”

  “Everyone is tired after a day’s work, Mom.”

  “I know a lot of men who are tired, but are still willing to go out, do things their wives also enjoy.”

  “You have all day to do things. He doesn’t tell you what to do during the day.”

  Her mom had thrown her hands in the air. “Sometimes I want to dress up and go out! What fun is it, drinking tea with my sister or a friend morning after morning? Have a bloody heart.”

  When Ellie hadn’t replied straight away, her mother had continued. “Let me tell you what the real problem is. He comes home, all right, but instead of leaving his work at the office, he brings it along. Even when he’s at home, I know his mind never switches off.”

  “It’s not the kind of job you can leave at the office. Whether you want to or not, you take it home. There’s no button you can press at the end of the day.”

  “I don’t know why I’m wasting my time talking to you. You’ve never been on my side.”

  “It’s not about taking sides, Mom …”

  But Rika McKenna had turned and walked away.

  Now, as Ellie watched her mom sit quietly on the sofa, she remembered going to her dad’s office the next day and telling him to take his wife out on the weekend. They had gone dancing on Saturday night, but when Ellie had come for lunch on Sunday, her mom hadn’t come out of the bedroom. Ellie had known better than to ask what had happened.

  “Hello, Mom.”

  Rika jumped at the sound of Ellie’s voice, and Douglas gave a short bark before he came towards her, tail wagging.

  “Why do you sneak up on me like that?” Rika said, frowning. “What have you done to your hair? It looks like a rat ate it.”

  Ellie saw the signs on her face and in her eyes. Her mom was an ugly drunk. She spotted the glass on the coffee table next to the sofa. She wondered why her mom took the trouble to use a glass, but then she controlled herself.

  “I felt like a change.” She kissed her mom’s cheek and sat down beside her on the sofa. “How are things here?”

  “You can’t just walk in here as if it’s your place. I have a right to privacy.”

  Ellie suppressed the urge to get up and leave.

  “I thought I’d order something to eat. What do you feel like?”

  “I had a big lunch. I’m not hungry.”

  “Have something just to keep me company.”

  “I’m not hungry.” Her mother lisped slightly on the sibilant sounds.

  “What did you eat?”

  “Am I being cross-examined about what I eat in my own home? Bugger off. I’m not a child. I’ll do as I please.”

  Ellie rubbed the dog’s ears for a while, got to her feet, took her handbag and car keys and put the latch on the front door as she left.

  Only when she stopped in front of Joe’s place did she start breathing normally again. How the hell had she ended up here? Instead of turning left out of Vasco Boulevard onto the N1 towards the city, she had headed north to Bellville. She would have to pull herself together.

  Joe looked up, looked away, then looked back quickly. “Mac?”

  She did a twirl. “You like?”

  “Good grief. Now I’ve seen everything.”

  Ellie looked at the few tables where people were sitting. She spotted a few former colleagues. At first they didn’t recognise her, but then someone called out her name. She waved in reply. Two gave loud wolf-whistles and came towards her.

  “Now that you’ve left us you get a sexy short haircut? What did we do wrong?” one of the younger guys asked.

  “So, what are you saying? That I wasn’t sexy when my hair was long?”

  “No, but you know what they say, variety is the spice of life. You could have spiced up our lives a little,” another one added.

  “Maybe you weren’t nice enough to me.”

  Objections came from all around.

  “Come join us.”

  Ellie shook her head. “I want to talk to Joe.”

  They returned to their table after teasing her for being stuck-up.

  “Where have you come from?” Joe asked when the two of them were alone at the counter.

  “My mom.” She moved to her favourite chair in the corner.

  “What can I offer you?”

  “The usual. Make it a double.”

  He filled a glass with ice and took a bottle of whisky from under the counter. “I don’t know if I should even keep this stuff any more. He was my only customer with such expensive taste.”

  “What about me?”

  “From what I hear, we won’t be seeing you very often in this neck of the woods any more.”

  She took a sip and swilled the whisky around her mouth for a moment.

  “How’s your mother?”

  “If we talk about her, I might say things I’ll regret.”

  “I know you feel responsible for her, as is right and proper. One has a responsibility towards one’s parents. But you can’t hold yourself responsible for everything she does. She’s a grown woman, who knows what she’s doing. And nothing you say or do will really make a difference. You know the drill. If you don’t want to help yourself …”

  “Mac …” Clive entered with two colleagues, and stopped in his tracks when he saw her. “Damn, how much more do you want to confuse us? What’s next? A skinhead?”

  “And you dropped us without warning!” his colleague teased, having commented on her short, dark hair.

  “I should have done it long ago. Maybe you would have got to do some work for a change. As long as I was there, I did all the work.”

  “Ha! In your dreams, girl.” Clive looked at the glass on the counter. “What are you drinking?”

  “Nothing you can afford.”

  “For you, I’m prepared to eat dry bread all month.” He motioned to Joe to refill her glass.

  Clive sat down next to her. “How did it go today?”

  “Not too badly. But I realised I’m not as fit as I thought.”

  “Hopefully you won’t ever have to use any of it, but we can’t send you in unprepared.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I think it’s time we did some damage to our relationship.”

  “You mean we’re going to have that fight I’ve been wanting for so long?”

  “Now’s your chance.”

  “How many rounds?”

  “Fighting talk!” He gave her a private smile, then raised his voice. “You just leave without saying a word to me, and you expect me to smile and be cool with it? When we have so few willing and able hands as it is? Do you know who they gave me to replace you? Hendriks. He can’t add two and two. If he was any duller, he’d be a tea cosy.”

  She hit back: “I could give you a thousand apologies, but it wouldn’t change a thing. I’m not coming back, so either you drop the attitude, or we go our separate ways. Cape Town is a big place. We don’t have to bump into each other every day.”

  From the corner of her eye she saw the others look up from their table. She sipped her drink, then turned the glass around and around, so that the ice cubes tinkled.

  “Don’t take that tone with me. You know you’re wrong.”

  “You know what? Life is full of surprises. Deal with it. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve had a hard day. I just stopped here for
a quiet drink and a few words with Joe.”

  Clive raised his hands and got to his feet. “Be my guest.”

  In the mirror behind the counter she saw him joining the others.

  “Mac!” someone called. “Join us.”

  “The two of us are talking,” Joe answered. “Not that you look like good company,” he added quietly. “Why are you at each other’s throats?”

  “He’s angry because I resigned without discussing it with him first.”

  “He may have a point.”

  “Not you too! Just let me sit in peace for a few minutes. I don’t feel like being lectured tonight.”

  “With that face I’m sure no one will bother you.”

  “That’s the problem when you usually put on a cheerful face. The minute you stop smiling, everyone wants to know what’s wrong. Surely I have the right to a bad day now and then?”

  Joe ruffled her hair. “My angel, you’re preaching to the converted. Try not smiling for just one night in this job. Or not listening to the shit they talk.”

  Ellie smiled. “I feel like I’ve been knocked over by a huge wave, and can’t come up for air. I don’t know my arse from my elbow. What’s worse is that I can’t tell anyone about it, or I might never get another job.” She took two quick sips.

  “You know he always said you should never drink when you’re angry or sad,” Joe said when she started on the second glass.

  “I don’t have to listen to him any more.”

  Joe wiped the counter with the ever-present white towel on his belt, more out of habit than necessity. “My girl, let me tell you something. You don’t get rid of their voices that easily. They may get quieter, but one day they speak in your inner ear. Usually when you least want to hear them. It’s part of the crazy shit that goes on between parents and children.”

  “Babes?” A voice suddenly spoke behind her. Albert put his arms around her and kissed her neck, then ran his hand through her short hair. “How lucky can one man get? A new girl every night. I could get used to this.”

  She turned and kissed him. “You know you’re skating on thin ice.”