One Secret Summer (51 page)

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Authors: Lesley Lokko

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BOOK: One Secret Summer
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‘Josh?’ A woman’s voice suddenly cut across his thoughts. He turned. A young woman was standing to his left, eyes wide with
surprise. She looked familiar but he couldn’t place her at first. ‘Josh Keeler?’ He nodded, wondering where the hell he’d
seen her before. She was smiling at him, her face breaking open in welcome. ‘Julia! I’m Aaron’s wife.’ The confusion that
ran through him was so great he almost dropped his drink. Aaron’s wife? What the hell was she doing in Johannesburg, of all
places? Her own surprise seemed to equal his. ‘I can’t believe it! What a coincidence … this is incredible!’ She turned to
the small group who were standing some way behind her. ‘This is my brother-in-law,’ she said, gesturing towards him. ‘I can’t
believe it! What are you doing here?’

Introductions were made: Susan, Jean, Alison, Khadija. He shook hands with them in turn. A conference – they’d been at a conference.
Explanations were offered; this one was the head of such-and-such programme at the World Bank; that one was the director of
this and that … He nodded at each, wishing only that they would hurry up and leave him alone. It was on the tip of his tongue
to ask Julia what she was doing in such company, but not only would it have seemed rude, perhaps, but it occurred to him that
he didn’t really care. The last thing he felt like doing was making small talk with the wife of one of his brothers. Especially
this one. What was it Diana had said about her? ‘That
accent
. Jumps out at you like a barking dog.’ He felt the ghost of a smile cross his lips but he suppressed it just in time. It
wasn’t her accent that bothered him – on the contrary, he found it rather refreshing. It was so at odds with her cool,
polished appearance. No, it was the way he’d seen her looking at Niela that one time they’d met, her cold blue eyes passing
judgement on someone whose life and circumstances she couldn’t possibly even imagine. He slid off the bar stool. ‘Sorry, ladies
… if you’ll excuse me. I’ve had a long day.’ And with that and without so much as a backward glance or a goodbye, he strode
off.

Julia’s cheeks were flaming as they watched him walk out of the bar. ‘Sorry about that,’ she muttered, lifting her glass to
hide her face. ‘I’ve only met him once. He wasn’t quite as rude the first time but he was close. No bloody wonder they don’t
get on.’

‘Mmm. Well, he didn’t seem
especially
thrilled to see us,’ Susan said diplomatically. ‘But perhaps he really did have a long day. Oh well. Drink, anyone?’

‘Hell of a good-looking guy, though,’ Jean mused. ‘Ooh, yes please. I’ll have a very large whisky, thanks.’

They carried their drinks off like prizes and found a table underneath the palms. ‘Cigarette?’ Susan pulled out a packet.

Julia shook her head. Then she changed her mind. ‘Oh, I’ll have one. I tell you, he doesn’t half get my goat.’ She lit up,
savouring the taste at the back of her throat. It had been years since she’d smoked, and although she rarely missed it, there
were times, like now, when she craved one.

‘Gets your goat?’ Jean asked, frowning.

Julia laughed wryly. ‘It’s a northern term. He gets on my nerves.’

‘Oh, ignore him. We’ve had a great conference, we got to meet each other … forget about him,’ Jean said with a smile.

Julia nodded. Jean was right. She took one last puff on her cigarette, stubbed it out and banished Josh Keeler from her thoughts.

By 10 p.m. the restaurant was almost empty. Julia sat alone for a few minutes after the others had gone to bed, toying with
the remains of her drink. She too was tired but she found herself
curiously unwilling to go upstairs to her room. She wanted to savour every last minute of what had been the most interesting
week of her life. She’d been transported straight back to the heady days of the Pro Bono Publico at Oxford. Curiously, too,
the whole conference and the conversations it had generated brought her mother-in-law to mind. This was what she’d dreamed
about as a young girl watching Diana on TV and thinking about the power and grace of the law. She couldn’t believe she’d been
gone for only six and a half days; it felt like a lifetime, as though everything about her life had changed. In a way, it
had. She’d discovered a whole world outside the narrow confines of the law as she’d understood it – six days in the company
of passionate, articulate and fiercely intelligent women had given her another perspective. She’d been one of the youngest
presenters in Maputo, but to her great surprise, it hadn’t made a jot of difference. At Bernard, Bennison & Partners she’d
become so used to the double disadvantage of age and gender that the realisation in Maputo that neither meant anything to
anyone had come as a complete shock. In six days she’d discovered there were multiple ways to be a professional woman, from
the Diana types, brisk, brusque, rake-thin and stylish, to the homely, motherly ones, often dressed in ethnic clothing, to
the serious intellectuals from places like Princeton and Oxford with their short haircuts and always dressed in black. There
were others, too; women from places as far afield as Bangladesh and Bahrain, the latter in their long black gowns with beautifully
composed faces partially hidden by their veils. She’d had lunch on one of the days with a group of Nigerian women who were
simultaneously wives, mothers, policymakers and activists. She’d come away awed by the complexity and richness of their lives.
She’d met lawyers in Maputo, but what really struck her was the way they adapted the law to suit the demands of working for
and on behalf of women worldwide. For someone like her to become a successful barrister would mean she would have to work
twice as hard and twice as long as anyone else. She was painfully aware that her accent and
her background worked against her and that her marriage to Aaron Keeler had provoked more jealousy than anything else. Diana
would never lift a finger to help or advise her and—

She looked up suddenly. Something had interrupted her thoughts – a man had come into the empty room. It was Josh. He was walking
towards the bar, his back turned towards her. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks as she looked at him. He was ordering something,
a drink – any second now he would turn around. She ought to get up and make her way across the floor to the lifts before he
saw her. She wanted nothing further to do with him. She ought to get up … but she didn’t. He turned slowly, drink in hand,
and then, of course, he spotted her. There was a moment’s awkwardness, before he lifted his glass, acknowledging her. She
hesitated, then lifted hers in return. He began to walk towards her. It struck her as he approached that she felt the same
way about Josh as she had about Aaron, all those years ago. Despite their obvious differences, there was something remarkably
similar about them. She wondered whether she’d misjudged Josh, just as she had Aaron.

‘Hi,’ he said, setting his glass down on the table and pulling out the seat opposite her. Julia was too surprised to answer.
It hadn’t occurred to her that he might actually
join
her.

‘Hi,’ she muttered, not wishing to appear ungracious but not relishing the thought of his surly company either.

‘That looks empty,’ he said, pointing to her glass. ‘What’re you drinking?’

Julia hesitated. ‘Whisky and soda.’

Josh seemed to be considering something. ‘Tell you what,’ he said suddenly. ‘How about a proper drink? In a proper place.
Not here …’ He let his hand drop disparagingly.

‘What d’you mean?’ Julia asked, further taken aback.

‘D’you know Jo’burg?’

She shook her head. ‘No. It’s only the second time I’ve been abroad,’ she said ruefully, expecting him to laugh.

He didn’t. ‘There’s a bar in Braamfontein that I’ve been to a couple of times …’ He glanced at his watch. ‘It’s quarter to
eleven – they should just about be opening up. Come on. Let’s get a cab.’ He drained his own glass and put it down on the
table. He stood up, looking down at her. ‘Well? Coming?’

Julia scrambled to her feet. It was the last thing she’d expected, but there was something thrilling and compelling about
Josh just the same. She couldn’t imagine Aaron doing anything even remotely like this, she thought to herself wildly as she
followed him out of the lobby and waited as he organised a cab. Aaron would sooner have
died
than gone out at midnight to a bar in a city he hardly knew. Getting into the back of the cab after Josh, it occurred to
her that it was hardly the sort of thing she did, either. When was the last time she’d done anything remotely like this? Never,
was the answer. Never.

All the life was withdrawn from the city streets as they drove towards the address Josh had given the driver. There were few
streetlights, a couple of abandoned cars; no one was about. ‘You sure?’ was all the driver had said on hearing the street
name. ‘You been there before?’ Josh nodded. ‘Well, if you’re sure …’ The driver lifted his shoulders. Julia bit her lower
lip. Suddenly all the stories she’d ever heard about Johannesburg came flooding back.

‘Isn’t it very dangerous?’ she whispered to Josh as they plunged down one deserted street after another.

He shrugged. ‘No more dangerous than anywhere else,’ he said cryptically. Julia’s pulse began to race again. What was she
doing? The car suddenly came to an abrupt halt.

‘This it is, sir.’ The driver turned his head disbelievingly.

Josh peered out into the darkness. ‘Yeah, this is it. Thanks.’ He pushed a note through the glass and got out. ‘Well?’ He
looked down at Julia for the second time that evening. She got out with some difficulty and stood beside him as the cab pulled
away, faster than it had arrived, she noticed, as if the driver couldn’t wait to get away. She looked up at the building in
front of them. It was tall, almost entirely blacked out, with thin strips of light showing here and there as if the darkness
had worn thin.
There was a buzzer on the door in front of them. Josh stepped forward and pressed it; after a wait of a few seconds, the door
swung open. The hallway was dark, but there was the unmistakable sound of laughter and music coming from behind the door at
the far end of the room. It opened to release a surge of activity. Someone was standing in the doorway. From his stance, Julia
understood he was carrying a gun. She swallowed nervously.

‘Hi,’ Josh said, making no move towards him. ‘I’m a friend of Tumi’s.’

The man looked them over once or twice, then nodded, standing aside to let them pass. Like Alice plunging after the White
Rabbit, Julia followed Josh in. They went down three or four steps into a basement space. It was dark, but there were candles
and tea lights strung up everywhere. The sound of laugher and music was a warm, thick blanket covering them. In contrast to
the cool night outside, it was hot inside; the smells of alcohol, perfume, cigarette smoke and the occasional whiff of a joint
filled her nostrils pleasurably. A band was playing in the far corner of the room. Josh turned and pulled her forward by the
wrist towards the bar. ‘What’ll you have?’ he shouted above the noise.

‘Rum and Coke,’ Julia shouted back. Despite her nervousness, she was beginning to enjoy herself. She looked at him, his body
half-turned towards the bar, chatting animatedly with the barman. His face glowed under the soft neon lights. She found herself
staring at him, unable to tear her eyes away. The whole evening had suddenly taken on an unreal, otherworldly aspect. He passed
her a drink over the head of a young woman who stood in between them. Her smile, as the drink sailed above her, was both sweet
and flirtatious; Julia felt something inside her lift. She smiled back and took a sip. The alcohol flowed thick and strong
through her veins. The band began to play again. Julia had never heard music like it. It was strong and soft at the same time,
intensely lyrical but with a pulsing, driving beat. The singer, an extraordinarily beautiful young woman with an
enormous, theatrical Afro, came out on to the makeshift stage to roars of applause. The crowd was almost totally mixed, Julia
noticed, sipping her drink and looking around with interest. Black, white, Indian … students, young professionals, workers
… it was unlike any bar or club she’d ever been to. Not that she’d been to many, she reminded herself. She took another mouthful
of her drink. Someone asked her to dance; she shook her head, laughing:
no, no
… He smiled regretfully and turned his attention elsewhere, singling someone else out.

It was almost three in the morning by the time they finally left, but for Julia, it felt as though it had been only a few
minutes. Dancing, talking, drinking, laughing … the man beside her was almost unrelated to the surly, withdrawn person she’d
met. She followed him outside. The same bouncer who’d let them in opened the door for them on to the beginnings of a storm.
Fat drops of rain were falling from the inky black sky. ‘Summer storms,’ Josh said, looking up. ‘It always rains early in
the morning.’

Julia lifted her jacket above her head and they ran towards the waiting cab. Squalls of wind gusted at their backs and a small
tornado of leaves whipped up just as Josh opened the door. They clambered in, wet and giggling, and the car pulled away. Josh
gave instructions to the driver. ‘Well, did you enjoy that?’ he asked, turning his head to look at Julia. She nodded vigorously.
A sudden intimacy had sprung up between them in the darkened interior of the cab. The steady drumbeat of rain on the roof
turned into a soft, enclosing rhythm, drawing them into its sound. Julia was acutely, uncomfortably aware of Josh’s thigh
pressed close to hers. She shivered, suddenly cold, and moved away as imperceptibly as she could. It was only the second time
she’d met him and already she was aware of the danger she was in. He was like Aaron; and yet he was not. There was both familiarity
at work here, and the erotic pull of a stranger. She turned to look unseeingly out of the window at the darkened streets through
which they passed. She put a hand up to her face.
It was hot with fear, but also with desire. There was the same distance in Josh that had first annoyed her in Aaron, then
intrigued her. That same quality of something else lying just beneath the surface, if only you could reach it. She suddenly
felt herself close to tears. She was tired, drunk and overwhelmed. She was alone in a very foreign country, all sorts of strange
and unfathomable thoughts spiralling around in her head. She longed for home and the comforting security of Aaron’s embrace.

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