Rachel Weeping (19 page)

As she watched the dust swirl in a sudden gust of wind, a sure sign that a storm was coming, she was gripped by a sense of dread. The sun hadn't quite gone down yet but the sky had grown dark and threatening. Whether she liked it or not, a big storm was about to
hit.

Michelle opened the gate for Lucy to leave the property and waited for it to close before she returned to the study. The woman had seemed nice enough. She came from Blantyre in Malawi, had no children, and had been in South Africa for over ten years. She came with impeccable references from two families, the most recent of which had emigrated to Australia. She seemed capable of doing all the tasks that would be required of her and was satisfied with the wages Michelle had put on the table.

Most importantly, she was able to start on Monday. She told Michelle she could arrange to move in over the weekend, once Rachel had left.

Michelle decided to call Chris. There was no message on her phone to say he was safely in Durban and it was getting late. Whenever either of them travelled on business, they had an agreement that they would text each other when they landed, but perhaps his flight had been delayed. She let the phone ring for a while and was about to hang up when Chris answered. He sounded out of breath.

‘Hey!'

‘You get there okay?' Michelle asked.

‘
Ja
,' Chris replied, his voice surrounded by traffic. ‘Sorry. It took a while at the car hire place and I've only just checked in at the hotel. I went straight to my first meeting from the airport. And now I have to get ready to have drinks and dinner with the client in fifteen minutes.'

‘I just had a lady come through to interview for the position,' Rachel told him.

‘What position?' Chris asked.

‘The maid's,' Michelle replied patiently.

‘Oh yes. And?'

‘She seems okay. Doesn't speak great English but she came with good references. She can start on Monday.'

‘That sounds good. What's her situation?'

‘Malawian. No kids or heavy family connections.'

Thunder rolled in the distance and Michelle walked to the window to try and gauge how far away the storm was. The sun was still shining but black clouds were brewing just below the treeline, the wind carrying them quickly towards Parkhurst, it looked like.

‘There's a storm's brewing,' Michelle said, closing the window.

‘Remember to unplug the electronics if there's lightning,' Chris said. ‘The last thing we need is to lose another modem.'

‘I will, don't worry.'

‘Listen – I've got to go now but I'll call you after dinner if it doesn't go on too late.'

‘All right,' Michelle said. ‘Listen, I've been thinking. When you get back maybe we should decide on a colour for the baby's room.'

‘Sounds like a plan.' Chris sounded distracted. ‘Let's talk about it when I get back.'

‘Sure,' Michelle said.

Somewhere in the house an open window was banging against its frame. This one was going to be a big storm. Before she went to investigate and sort out the unsettling noise, she noticed that there was only one bar of battery left on her phone so she plugged it into the charger on the desk. In the kitchen she saw Hugo shivering in his basket. He didn't like storms. When there were bad ones he would squeeze beneath the sofa in the lounge. He looked up at Michelle with fear-filled eyes and whimpered. She went over and scratched him behind his ears, murmuring some soothing words.

 

 

 

Chris pushed his phone into his pocket and looked around. Anja was standing a few feet away. He smiled and strode towards her, scanning the busy restaurant for the clients they were supposed to be meeting up with. He spotted them sitting in the corner at a four-seater table, two Afrikaans men in their mid-thirties who, judging from the empty beer bottles on the table, looked as though they had been sitting there for a while.

‘There they are,' Chris said. He placed a hand on Anja's lower back to get her attention and guide her towards them.

‘Showtime,' Anja said. Smiling, she walked ahead of Chris to the table, hand outstretched. ‘Good evening, gentlemen,' she said as the two men hastily rose to their feet. ‘I'm Anja.'

 

 

 

Rachel turned on the light, even though it was still relatively early. The storm clouds had blocked out the setting sun completely now and she could hear the wind scratching at the door, rattling it against the frame which was doing its best to keep it in place. She made herself a cup of tea before unplugging the kettle along with the rest of the electrical items in the room, as Chris had instructed her to do many years ago. She began to fold the last of her clothes and pack them into the suitcase that was still open on the floor for all the last minute things she'd put in tomorrow. The room was practically bare. Soon there would be no trace of her left at all, her presence like footprints on the beach swallowed up by the incoming tide. It would be as though she had never existed.

 

 

Chris burst out laughing as Anja finished the joke she was telling the table; Werner and Johan joined in at the punch line. What he had expected to be a continuation of the somewhat tense business meeting earlier in the day had in fact turned into a drinking evening with very little discussion around the problem with the building plans.

The waiter came to clear away the empty glasses and Werner looked enquiringly around the table. Anja and Johan nodded to another round and, even though his head was spinning, Chris did the same. He sat back in his chair, trying to assess how drunk he was. Pretty drunk, he concluded.

He felt his leg against Anja's but did nothing to move it away, waiting to see if she would. She didn't and, as Johan started to tell them another story and the next round of drinks arrived, his reservations began to melt away.

 

 

 

Michelle opened the cupboard in the baby's room and placed a pile of neatly folded babygros on the top shelf. They were gifts from the baby shower and, as she looked around the rest of the room, she realised that they were almost ready for the baby to come. The crib was in place, the changing station was ready and the framed pictures were in two neat piles, ready to be hung on the walls as soon as they'd been painted. The only thing that was left for them to do was assemble the mobile that Karlien had given them and hang it above the crib. She decided that now was as good a time as any.

Sitting down on the floor, she opened the box and began to lay the pieces out in front of her. Hugo, who had bravely left his basket and followed her down the passage, was sniffing around as he tried to see what she was busy with. He settled down on the carpet beside her with a deep sigh. Outside the wind blew strongly in regular waves and gusts. Michelle heard the dull thump of a trashcan being blown over.

 

 

 

The elevator doors opened on the fifth floor and Chris and Anja stumbled out, laughing. Anja had her shoes in her hand. She was walking slowly and couldn't stop giggling. They peered up and down the quiet passage to see if anyone else was around. Chris could barely walk straight. His face was numb. He stumbled forward as Anja grabbed hold of his shoulder in an attempt to steady herself. The action set both of them wobbling and then crashing to the floor where they lay on the plush carpet, giggling and shushing each other.

‘I don't know how we're going to explain all those bottles to the guys in accounts,' Chris said as he used the wall to help him get to his feet. He picked up his laptop bag and then held his hand out to Anja. She hiccupped and giggled and allowed him to pull her up.

‘We? You're the one who ordered them,' she said.

‘And you're the one who kept drinking them. Where the hell do you fit all that booze in that tiny body of yours?'

‘Right here,' Anja said, smacking her rear playfully.

Chris squinted at the numbers on the doors and, once he had orientated himself, led the way. He stopped when he got to his room. Anja's was directly opposite.

‘Here we are,' he said, patting his pockets in an attempt to locate his access card. All he could find was his phone and his wallet. He started rummaging through his laptop bag while Anja opened the door to her room.

‘What are you doing?' Anja asked. She tossed her shoes into the room and turned around.

‘Looking for my damn card.'

Chris put the bag down on the carpet and started fumbling through his pockets again, the alcohol slowing down his search somewhat. Anja watched him, laughing quietly. Then she stepped over and opened his jacket to check his inside pocket, poking him first in his ribs.

‘No, man, that tickles!' Chris said, doubling over and pulling back, which only made Anja laugh louder and poke him again.

‘Shhhh! You're going to wake everyone,' she said, putting a finger to her lips.

Chris bit his lip and let Anja's fingers go from his inside jacket to his shirt pocket, but his eyes warned her not to tickle him again. Anja had stopped laughing. She moved her hands to his pants pockets. Chris breathed in deeply as she put her hand inside the right one, dug around and came out with the keys to the rental car. She held them up for him to see and jiggled them in the air.

‘I wonder what we'll find in the other one?' she asked with an innocent smile.

Chris's heart was thudding in his chest but he didn't move as Anja slowly reached for the other pocket. All playfulness between them had disappeared. He recognised the line they were crossing. His body responded to the energy between them and as Anja held her body against his, he felt his self-control starting to slip away.

He leaned in and was about to kiss her when they heard a loud ‘ping' and the doors to the elevator opening. Chris and Anja jumped away from each other as a middle-aged businessman with a large suitcase exited, looked at the numbers on the doors of the rooms closest to the elevator and, once orientated, came walking towards them, dragging the heavy piece of luggage behind him. Chris exhaled deeply and Anja stepped back into the doorway to her room while they waited for the man to pass.

The man had a round, sweaty face. He greeted them and stopped at a door two rooms down from Anja's. As he fiddled in his pocket and drew out his access card, Chris and Anja held each other's eyes.

The few moments' interruption allowed Chris mentally to assess what was about to happen and to take stock. It wasn't a difficult picture to assemble. His wife was alone in another city about to have their first child and he was about to cheat on her. As the sweaty man did battle with his card and the door of his hotel room the stakes and what Chris stood to lose became clearer to him. The thought sobered him up quickly. He dropped his eyes from Anja's and leaned against the door. As he did so he felt something in the back pocket of his pants and knew immediately that it was his access card.

The man had finally got his door open. He pushed his bag into his room and they heard the click of the lock. The corridor returned to silence. Chris looked across the divide between him and Anja, who cocked her head to the side as she waited for him to make the expected next move.

Chris smiled weakly and held up the card for her to see, embarrassed that he had led her on and was now backing out. ‘Found it.'

Anja nodded and smiled, acknowledging that things were not going to go any further than this tonight.

‘Goodnight, Chris,' she said and stepped backwards into her room.

‘Night,' Chris responded. He watched as she closed the door on him.

Chris turned around and slid his access card into the slot in his door and heard the lock click. The door popped open. He walked inside and closed the door behind him, turning the manual lock as well, more for himself than for Anja. The room was simple and clean. The digital clock beside the bed told him that it was just after 21:30, not actually as late as he'd thought. Opening the sliding door to the balcony, he saw that he had an unobscured view of the beachfront. The waves of the warm Indian Ocean crashed softly just a few hundred metres away.

He took out his phone and scrolled through his address book until he reached Michelle's name. He hit dial and while he waited for it to connect, appreciated the sound of the waves as they crashed against each other and thumped onto the shore. The call went straight to voicemail. Michelle had probably gone to bed already. He listened to her message as it played out and waited for the tone to beep before he spoke.

‘Hey, it's me,' he said as the fresh wind from the ocean hit his face. ‘Just wanted to say I'm thinking of you … both of you. I've got some meetings in the morning but I'll be home in the evening if everything goes according to plan. Love you.'

Michelle was still sitting on the floor of the baby's room trying to assemble Karlien's pastel mobile. It was proving to be far more complicated than she'd thought. It was very dark outside now. The night sky was filled with flashes of lightning every few minutes, predictably followed by growls of thunder. She could also hear rain pattering against the window. Hugo whined and edged closer to her. Michelle stroked his head. She was about to return her attention to the frustrating mobile when lightning struck again, impossibly close this time and making her heart leap into her throat. At the same instant the house was plunged into pitch darkness. Hugo let out a yelp and burrowed his head in Michelle's lap.

‘Shit,' Michelle said. It must have hit the mains. She pushed Hugo off her and got awkwardly to her feet.

She wasn't afraid but Chris usually handled this kind of situation and she wished he was here. She stood for a moment trying to think where the electrical box was. She knew they had a torch but she had no idea where that was either. Feeling lightheaded from standing up too quickly, she waited for the dizziness to pass before navigating through the dark house towards the kitchen. Hugo was right behind her.