Circus. Irma Venter

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Circus - Irma Venter


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you keep an eye on this woman? The sooner you start, the better.”

      Ranna stares at the paper, surprised. “Just that? That’s all you want?”

      “Yes. You and Boris can work in shifts.”

      “Will she know we’re there?’

      “No. And she mustn’t find out.”

      “I don’t understand.”

      “Just look after her, please. Don’t let anything happen to her. It’s all I ask.”

      “Fine, I’ll speak to Boris. Can Sarah help us? Her computers can see where we can’t.”

      “No need to involve her. I’d like to keep my family out of this.”

      “If you say so.”

      She reads what I have written. “Elizabeth Fey … You’re going to have to tell me more. Why are we protecting this woman? Who is she?”

      I shake my head.

      “Okay. What do I do if something happens? Call the cops?”

      “Call Boris.”

      “Right. Who and what do I have to watch out for?”

      “Someone who doesn’t belong, who doesn’t fit in. Someone watching her. I don’t think she’s in danger, but I want to be sure. I’d feel a lot better if I knew you were keeping an eye on her.” I realise it’s the absolute truth. “I can’t say any more. Not about who she is either, so please don’t ask again.”

      “You don’t want to say any more,” Ranna says.

      “Maybe,” I concede.

      “One day you’re going to have to trust someone.”

      “What’s this then if it isn’t trust?”

      I look at the tall woman in front of me. From a child who shot her father to protect her mother, to ongoing trouble with the cops, to an acclaimed photographer spending her life travelling. How did it happen? How did my life happen?

      I know the answer: the unforeseen. Circumstances and consequences. Things no pink-princess fairy tale ever told you could happen.

      “Don’t get involved,” I warn her. “If you see anything suspicious, call Boris and get away.”

      “Do I shoot if it’s called for? If there’s no other way?”

      Ranna has always known how to read between the lines, see the grey between the black and white. That space most people tend to ignore until they have to colour it in themselves.

      I take a deep breath, answer carefully, even though I know exactly what she’ll do if someone draws a firearm in her presence.

      “Do what’s right. What’s right for you. What keeps you safe.”

      “Okay.” She nods. “I will.”

      I head for my bedroom, turn at the door. “Please be careful, Ranna. Don’t do anything stupid. I’m certainly not worth it.”

      3

      Johannesburg, present

      I don’t want to make the call but I can’t put it off any longer. I left Crow’s without telling him what was going on.

      “Boris?”

      “What happened? Why did you rush off like that? You didn’t tell Zenani or me where you’re going.”

      I wait for his anger to subside. “Themba says he’s here.”

      In the background I hear weights dropping on the floor. Boris is at the gym.

      “Yasen?” He breathes out audibly. “There’s no way. I saw him with my own eyes. He’s in prison. Where he belongs.”

      “They let him go. He’s supposed to be seriously ill.”

      “Sick? I don’t buy it.”

      “I know. Maybe he bribed someone. But it doesn’t matter. He has a new passport. He uses the name Viktor de Klerk.”

      “De Klerk? The bastard.” In the background steel slams against steel. “What are we going to do?”

      “Themba says he’s in Cape Town. I’m going to find out if it’s true.”

      “I’m coming with you.”

      “No. I spoke to Ranna. I want you to look after Liesbet.”

      “He doesn’t know about Liesbet. I’m coming with you.”

      “Boris … I made a stupid mistake once and thought we’d be safe. Never again.”

      Silence.

      “How do you know he’s in Cape Town?”

      “I told you. Themba.”

      “And you trust him?”

      “He has no reason to lie.”

      “You can’t go alone.”

      “I’ll call you as soon as I know where Yasen is.”

      “You won’t.”

      “I will. Promise.” Suddenly it feels like the old days. When we were not much more than children. “This time I know exactly who and what he is.”

      Boris curses loudly in a language I have never quite managed to learn. I keep silent, waiting for him to calm down.

      “Ranna can do the first few hours,” he finally says. “I’ll take over when it gets dark.”

      “That’s what I thought too.”

      He grumbles sceptically. “I’m going to make a few calls. I can’t believe they let him go.”

      “Just don’t attract attention or cause trouble.”

      “I won’t. What about your family? The Fouries? Zenani?”

      “Tiny will look after them.”

      “Okay. I’ll check in with Ranna in an hour. Call me from Cape Town.”

      “I will.”

      The second call is easier. Tiny van der Westhuizen has known me for many years. He doesn’t ask questions.

      “Tiny?”

      “My girl?”

      “Can you arrange for someone to keep an eye on Crow’s and the Fouries?”

      “Why?”

      “I wouldn’t ask if wasn’t necessary.”

      “What about Sarah?”

      Would Yasen go after my favourite niece? It’s possible but she isn’t an easy target. “That fortress of hers is safe enough. One man will do.”

      “How much are you paying?”

      “Doesn’t matter.”

      “So you want the big guns?”

      “Please. And the discreet ones. They mustn’t be seen.”

      “Ex-cops okay? Or do you want bikers?”

      “Cops are fine.”

      “Okay, look after yourself.” He sniffs loudly. “I don’t want to be sending Sarah’s mom flowers. That old lady already thinks you’re bad news.”

      RANNA

      1

      Johannesburg, present

      The next time Alex takes off on his own I’m going to visit Sarah. Or book into a hotel. A five-star hotel with spa treatments. I’m going to have a lovely


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