Endgame. Wilna Adriaanse
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the way to Patrice’s flat, filling them in on what happened. Before they went in, the two men donned overcoats, shoe covers and gloves.
“Who’s been in here since the incident?”
“Only the two paramedics and I.”
“For the record we’ll take a sample from all three of you. Anyone else?”
“I kept the door locked.”
They nodded in unison and disappeared into the flat.
Nick turned on his heel and switched the coffee machine back on. He needed to grab something to eat soon.
CHAPTER 7
It was quiet in Kirstenbosch when Ellie arrived. Apart from the odd worker, she saw no one else. She followed the winding path to the tall white stinkwood tree. It was cool under its branches where she sat down on a bench. A damp mist hung in the ravines. There was a smell of leaves and wet soil. Autumn had arrived.
Sometimes she convinced herself that the pain and longing was less, but when it crashed down on her like a breaking wave, she still felt she was going to drown. It took her breath away, made her search desperately for something to hold on to. She had not sought professional help. It was the last thing she wanted to do. How could she describe the feeling of being tossed out on the beach, exhausted from battling the waves? A beach where the silence threatened to overwhelm her. The nothingness. Just a different void, where she struggled to breathe. And she would have to talk about the cold as well. Because no matter what the temperature was, she could never escape from the cold. What the waves didn’t do, the silence and the cold did.
How many times do you pick up your phone to call before the impulse goes away? How many tricks does your brain play on you before the absence becomes a part of your memory? The person is no longer there. Do you make it your mantra? Have it tattooed on the palms of your hands? Would it help stop the waves from catching you unawares? But why would you want to remind yourself about something you don’t want to remember? Rather take the mind games, then.
She wondered what they’d talk about if she could have one more chance to be with him. Something mundane? Would they say the things they’d never said when he was alive because they were too sentimental? Would they give orders? Don’t cry for me. Look after yourself. Be happy. Work hard. Would they try to heal old wounds? No, the two of them would probably sit in silence. Lost in their own thoughts, as they had often sat in the evenings. That was why she didn’t try to think of something to say now. She just sat, her back against the rough bark of the trunk.
After a while she took her phone out of her pocket and searched for her mom’s number.
A male voice answered.
“Hello, it’s Ellie. Is my mother there?”
“Eleanor, what a surprise. Uncle Janus here. How are you? Your mother and I were talking about you just last night.”
None of the meditation exercises she had learnt in the past few months could dispel her irritation with this man. Her mother’s mere mention of his name made her feel as if she was swallowing a mouthful of vinegar.
“I’m well. I’m in a bit of a hurry, I’m afraid. I’d like a quick word with my mom.”
“Of course. Hold on, I’ll take the phone to her. Goodbye, then. Come visit. We miss you.”
Ellie heard him knock on a door. “It’s Eleanor, darling. She wants to speak to you.” She couldn’t make out her mother’s answer, but she heard him laugh. “I’ll keep my eyes closed …”
“Ellie, where have you sprung from?” her mother said after a while.
“Are you busy?”
“I’m in the bath.”
Her entire mouth filled up with vinegar at the thought that he had walked into the bathroom where her mother lay naked.
Ellie watched as a squirrel ran across the lawn, froze for a moment, looked straight at her and continued on its way. Two pigeons landed a few metres away and began to peck at something. Breathe, she reminded herself. Take a deep breath before you say anything.
“How are you, Mom?”
“Very well. And you?”
“I’m good, thanks. Is everything okay at home?”
“I’m glad you called. We have a buyer for the house and I need you to sign.”
“What do you mean a buyer, and what do you mean ‘we’ have a buyer?”
“I told you that Janus’s daughter is an estate agent, didn’t I? She offered to help sell the house. Or at least keep an eye out for potential buyers. Some people came to view the house yesterday and they love it and want to move in as soon as possible. When can you come and sign?”
Her mom had still not said who “we” was, but Ellie knew. Why she had asked she didn’t know.
“I told you not to be hasty. I’d like to ask a few agents to value the place first.”
“I’m not a child or a doddering old woman who needs you to make decisions for me. Surely I can decide for myself if I want to sell my house?”
“Technically the house isn’t yours to sell. It belongs to a trust.”
“I don’t care if technically the house belongs to the Queen of England. I don’t want to live here any more. We’ve seen a lovely townhouse in a security complex. It’s ideal for the two of us. The garden is just big enough for Janus to potter in. We’re thinking of buying a caravan and doing some travelling. Friends of Janus belong to a caravan club who go on all kinds of interesting outings.”
When a man walked past and stopped to look at her, Ellie realised how hard she was breathing. In for five counts, hold for five, out for six counts, she told herself.
“You’ve never been a camper.”
“That’s why we want to buy a caravan. Modern caravans come with a toilet. Janus had a caravan for years and he knows his way around.” Her mother was silent for a moment before she continued. “I’ve been sitting at home long enough.”
“What else can you tell me?”
“I’m very well. Better than I’ve been in years.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“When can you come, so we can sign the contract?”
“I don’t know. If the people love the house so much, I’m sure they can wait a week or so. I have to make a few arrangements first.”
“You’re just being difficult. When was the last time I asked you anything? Now I’m asking one thing, and you don’t want to do it for me. You’re just as selfish as your dad.”
“I’ll come and sign the contract, Mom, just give me a day or two to make a few arrangements. What are you going to do with the furniture?”
“I don’t know. Take what you like. There’s nothing here I want. It’s a new beginning and I don’t want to drag along old ghosts.”
“I’ll send you an email address. Tell the agent to mail me the contract.”
“Fine.” Another silence. “Ellie, he’s very good to me. I want you to know that.”
“I’m happy for you, Mom.”
“Will you come to the wedding? His children are all going to be there.”
Ellie heard the uncertainty in her mother’s voice and she felt an ache in her chest. “Of course I’ll come, Mom. Have you decided on a date yet?”
Ellie heard the hesitation.
“Saturday.”
“What do you mean? This coming Saturday?”
“Yes.