When Time Fails (Silverman Saga Book 2) (24 page)

Time stopped.

Annamari stared at her husband. Her jaw dropped open and she clamped it shut. She brushed her wet face with the back of her hand. What did he mean, he knew? What could he possibly know?

‘What?’ she whispered.

‘I know... about Arno,’ he said.

‘About Arno? What... how ... what do you know? How? When?’

‘I’ve known for years. You’d have to be blind and deaf and incredibly dumb not to know. I’m none of those.’

‘But... but ... you never said anything! Why didn’t you say anything. Something. Why... how could you keep quiet about it? Why did you let me go on believing... pretending...’

Annamari could hear her voice rising. Anger surged through her. She couldn’t believe it. Thys had known – and he hadn’t said anything. He had let her lies fester between them for years. Forced her to continue lying, over and over again, knowing that she was lying every time she opened her mouth. How could he? Why had he?

‘It wasn’t my secret to tell,’ he said. ‘I prayed, for years I prayed that you would find the strength to tell me the truth. And then... well, it just didn’t seem to matter.’

‘When... how... how did you find out?’

Thys sighed. A long sad sigh. ‘I think I always sort of suspected but I didn’t want ... anyway, one day – it was when I was teaching at Driespruitfontein Hoërskool.’ He stopped. Annamari winced. Even from where she was sitting, she could see the pain etched on his face, in his eyes.

‘I was walking down the corridor,’ he said, so softly she could barely hear. ‘And suddenly I saw Alan Silverman in his school uniform coming towards me. I got the fright of my life. It was like seeing a ghost. He came closer and he laughed, and it was Alan’s laugh. It was the strangest thing. But of course, it wasn’t Alan. It was Arno. And I knew. I just knew.’

‘Oh Thys, I’m so sorry.’

‘I was ... I can’t explain how I felt. I felt as if my world was falling apart. I was furious, more angry than I’d ever been in my life. I didn’t know what to do. Then I thought... I didn’t know what to think. I prayed that I was wrong. All the way home in the car I prayed that my imagination was working overtime. So when I got home, I went through the school magazines. The pictures of Alan... well, he must have been about the same age then as Arno was. And there was no question. They could have been twins. And suddenly it all made sense. Everything.’

There was a long silence. Annamari didn’t know what to do. She wanted to go and put her arms around Thys. She wanted to apologise – but what could she say?

‘You really were good, weren’t you? You probably deserve an Oscar for the longest running performance ever,’ he said.

Silence swirled around them again. She noticed that the nail on her pinkie finger on her left hand was chipped.

‘Thys...’ Annamari said, and stopped. Words could never fill the terrible void that had opened between them.

‘I wanted to confront you that day,’ he said. ‘I was going to. I hated you. I really hated you, for cheating on me and then lying about it. For lying to me, and to Arno, and for making a mockery of our marriage. And I wondered whether you loved me. Whether you had ever loved me or if our whole marriage was one big lie.’

‘No. Oh no, Thys. I did love you... I do love...’

Thys didn’t seem to hear. He carried on, spewing over twenty-five years of suppressed doubt and emotion. ‘And I was angry, so angry. I knew that if I confronted you, if I said anything, I wouldn’t be able to control myself. I was frightened of what I might do. Of what I was capable of.’

Annamari shuddered. In all their years of marriage Thys had never once raised his hand to her, or any of the children. Not once. But she had seen what he could do when pushed. Look what he had done to Stefan Smit.

‘I had to get away before I did something, or said something, that I would regret for the rest of my life. So I made up a story about a rugby tournament in Johannesburg and I left.’

‘Oh God, I remember,’ she said. ‘That was when Stefan Smit ... and Beauty... and everything. Oh, Thys, I remember being so upset that you were going to a stupid rugby tournament. You were adamant that you had to go. But you came back.’

Horror shivered through her. She looked at Thys, wondering what she would have done if he hadn’t come back. Wondering how she would survive if he left her now.

‘I wasn’t going to. I was so hurt and angry. My whole life, our whole life was one big lie. All the years you had perpetuated the lie. I remembered all the snide remarks from my father and mother over the years, and how I’d defended you. Yet you had betrayed me. You betrayed me every single day. I was furious. Beyond furious.’

‘Oh, Thys. I’m so sorry.’

Thys didn’t look at her. He almost seemed to have forgotten she was there, at the other end of the table, staring at him, waiting for the axe to fall, when he’d tell her that while he hadn’t left her back then, he was going to leave her now. And she wouldn’t blame him. She nibbled the chipped nail, then ripped it off.

After what seemed like forever, Thys continued: ‘I went to a pub. I met a woman. She came back to my room...’

A knife twisted in Annamari’s gut. Thys didn’t seem to notice her little gasp of pain.

‘But she wasn’t you. And I hated you for that. I hated you. She was the only woman besides you I had ever... and I hated you for that too because I kept seeing you and Alan and wondering ...And then you phoned. That woman was with me when you phoned. I wanted to tell you that I was with her, another woman. I wanted to hurt you as you had hurt me.’

Annamari’s tears were blinding her. She let them splash onto the old table. She opened her mouth, closed it. There were no words.

‘You were hysterical,’ Thys whispered. ‘Almost incoherent. You said something about terrorists and rape and I thought... I thought you had been attacked. I thought you had been raped. I wanted to kill the person who had hurt you. And when I realised you were fine and that you hadn’t been the one... well, I can’t tell you how relieved I was. And that’s when I realised I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you. I knew then that I could never live without you, no matter what you had done. I knew I loved you more than life itself and I would spend the rest of my life taking care of you... And Arno – I love him. He’s my son.’ His voice faltered and he wiped his eyes.

‘And now? What now? Thys, what are we going to do now?’

Thys stared at her. She stared back, then looked down at her clasped hands. She could hear her heart thumping. She couldn’t breathe.

‘Hello you two. You’re up,’ said Arno as he stepped into the kitchen, closely followed by the girl. He took her hand and led her over to Annamari.

‘Ma, are you feeling better? You still look very pale. Have you been crying?’

She shook her head, forcing her frozen lips into a grimace of a smile. Arno smiled back, a little uncertainly.

‘Ma, I never managed to introduce you properly yesterday. This is Aviva Silverman, soon to be Mrs Arno van Zyl.’ He paused, and then added: ‘She’s Alan Silverman’s daughter.’

Annamari shook the girl’s outstretched hand, and muttered hoarsely: ‘Nice to meet you.’ She glanced desperately at Thys, hoping for some indication of what to do next. He shook his head and mouthed at her: ‘Not now.’

Weak with relief, Annamari staggered to her feet, clasping the gaping red dressing gown closed across her chest.

‘I’m sorry if I seem rude but I really must get dressed. Please excuse me,’ she said and fled out the kitchen, down the passage and into the bedroom.

***

Annamari glared at the bible in her hands. She had looked for it next to Thys’ bed but it wasn’t there. She had found it under a pile of papers and books and an old foot and heel file in the cupboard at the bottom of his bedside pedestal. She looked accusingly at Thys as he came into the room, his expression unreadable.

‘What are we going to do? How are we going to tell him... them? That poor girl. After everything she has been through. And Arno, poor, poor boy. I can’t do this to him, again... it will destroy him,’ she said.

‘What do you mean – again?’

Oh heavens. Of course. Thys didn’t know. ‘Beauty,’ she said.

‘What about her? ‘

She couldn’t continue. She couldn’t find the words.

‘What did you do, Annamari? Did you have something to do with their break-up? I thought the so-called mutual agreement between the two of them was strange. Especially as it was clear they were both miserable about it.’

‘I ... I had...It wasn’t...’ She faltered. She clutched the bible, wishing she believed enough to pray for guidance, inspiration, anything that would enable her to explain away the unforgivable.

‘What did you do? Don’t lie to me this time, Annamari. What did you do to them?’

She flinched. She took a deep breath. She blurted: ‘Beauty is Alan’s daughter.’

‘What? Are you crazy?’

‘I couldn’t let them...’ She thrust the bible at him. ‘I read it in here. And then I asked you... and you said it was a sin, a really, really bad sin. So I – well, I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t tell them about Alan, it would have destroyed Arno, and you... I was so scared it would destroy us. And I was right, wasn’t I? And what would have been the point? Even if I had confessed everything and destroyed us and our family, Arno and Beauty still couldn’t have been... you know. They couldn’t get married... it says so, you said so.’

Thys sank down on to the bed and stared at her. ‘Start from the beginning. I don’t understand.’

Slowly, stumbling over the words, Annamari told Thys the story Rosie had told her all those years ago: how a good-looking young white man from Driespruitfontein – a boy really – used to visit Pretty in the township; how he had abandoned her when she was pregnant with Beauty. And then she told him how Pretty had confirmed her suspicions about Beauty’s father when she showed her the photograph of Alan in the school magazine.

‘But whatever made you suspect Alan was her father in the first place? How long had you known?’ Thys demanded.

‘You know the way you saw Arno and suddenly realised? It was sort of like that with Arno and Beauty. They were still little and they were playing or something, and the two of them turned and looked at me with those big blue eyes... and I just knew. I don’t know why. I saw the uncanny resemblance and, because I knew the story about Beauty’s father... well, it was easy to put two and two together.’

Thys shook his head. ‘And I always thought you were against Arno and Beauty’s relationship because...’

‘Because you think I’m a racist?’

Thys looked at her, shamefaced. ‘Well, what else was I supposed to think? Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘I couldn’t. I was too scared. I thought that if I did, you’d leave me.’ She paused. ‘And here we are again. Only this time... Oh God, Thys, what am I going to do? What are we going to do?’

Arno and Aviva were waiting for her in the lounge. Well, not waiting exactly. They were sitting side by side on the couch watching Sky News when she walked in, trailing tension in her wake. Thys was standing by the fireplace. She knew exactly how the French nobility must have felt when they climbed the scaffolding and approached the guillotine. Except she was hardly French nobility. More like a common thief, a murderer approaching the gallows. She wiped her sweating palms on her jeans and smiled shakily at her son who was holding hands with his ... oh God... his sister. His half-sister. She swallowed hard, trying to swallow the nausea that was burning her gullet. She sank into an armchair and pushed her glasses back up her nose. She took a deep breath. She opened her mouth. This was it.

‘What’s this?’ Thys said, holding up a brown envelope.

She stared at it. She’d totally forgotten about it. She’d put it on the mantelpiece yesterday when she’d been waiting for Arno to arrive. She had intended to show it to Thys later. They were going to open it together.

‘I don’t know. I never opened it. I was waiting for you,’ she said.

‘It’s from the Department of Land Affairs. It’s probably important. It’s just as well I found it here.’

She bit her lip. She wanted to cry. It was all too much.

‘I wanted us to open it together. I couldn’t bear to open it alone. What if it’s bad news? I’m sure it’s bad news. That’s why Mr Venter hasn’t phoned. He doesn’t want to tell us.’ Her voice faded.

Thys turned the envelope over, slipped his finger beneath the flap and ripped. He reached in and pulled out an official-looking letter. Annamari held her breath while he read it. Slowly. Then he read it again. Arno turned off the television and stared at his father – at Thys.

‘What?’ Annamari said. ‘What does it say?’

Thys walked over to her and held it out. She took it with a trembling hand. She took off her glasses and polished the lenses on her T-shirt. She put them back on and tried to focus. The words blurred. She blinked. She still couldn’t make out the letters. She took her glasses off and held the letter up close to her face. That was better. Now she could see. She read:

Dear Mr and Mrs T van Zyl.

Re: CLAIM ON STEYNSPRUIT IN TERMS OF RESTITUTION OF LAND RIGHTS ACT, 1994 (ACT NO.22 OF 1994), AS AMENDED.

You are hereby informed that the claim lodged by Mr. Thabiso Hadebe on behalf of the Hadebe/Schekoera/Moilwa families has been withdrawn.

The Constitutional Court has been informed and therefore there will be no ruling on this case.

All parties will be responsible for their own legal costs.

Please indicate that you are in receipt of this letter and have understood and acknowledged its contents by signing in the appropriate space below and returning it to:

The Regional Land Claims Commissioner

Free State and Northern Cape

P.0. Box 2345

Kimberley

8300

Tel: (053) 807 5555

Fax: (053) 807 5556

Annamari put her glasses back on and stared at Thys.

‘What does this mean?’

‘I don’t know. I think we need to contact Mr Venter. Now. He said we should be getting a ruling from the Constitutional Court any day now. They must have heard something. Probably that they were going to lose. That’s probably why they’ve withdrawn their claim,’ Thys said.

Annamari smiled apologetically at Arno and Aviva as she got up to follow Thys out the French doors.

‘Sorry to leave you like this. But it’s an emergency. Arno, take Aviva on a tour of the farm. Have you shown her the river? Take you
r
cozzie
s
, it might be warm enough to swim. Did you bring swimming costumes?’

‘You are crazy, Ma,’ Arno said. ‘The water will still be absolutely freezing at this time of the year. But go with Pa. Avi and I will be fine.’

Waves of relief washed over Annamari as she hurried after Thys towards the kibbutz office. She wasn’t sure if that was because the confrontation with Arno and Aviva had been postponed or because the land claim finally appeared to be over. That was wonderful news. As soon as they’d spoken to Mr Venter and confirmed everything, they’d sign the letter and whoever was going to Driespruitfontein today could take it and post it. And that would be that. She should be happy. Some good news at last.

***

Mr Venter wasn’t in his office. He was in court. His assistant had no idea when he would be back. And no, she couldn’t send him a message. He didn’t like to be disturbed.

‘Let’s just sign the letter and get it over with,’ Annamari said.

But Thys refused. And Busi agreed.

‘It’s probably best if we do wait for Mr Venter,’ Busi said. ‘There has to be a reason why they’ve bypassed our lawyer and come directly to us. It could be some kind of trick. I mean, we have no way of knowing that they have actually withdrawn the claim.’

Annamari sank back on the hard wooden chair. Thys perched on the edge of the desk. Busi turned back to her computer. ‘I have some accounts to pay, please excuse me.’ She tapped a few keys and smiled. ‘I’m so glad we took the decision to install VSAT. Having a satellite link to the Internet makes a huge difference – it’s so much faster and more reliable than the old cellular link, don’t you agree?’

‘Ja. Since we installed a computer in the library, there are kids in there all the time, but I think I need to ask Karabo to check the security settings again. I think some of the kids have managed to bypass something and are getting on to inappropriate websites. But even so, it’s making a huge difference to them. Their work is really improving,’ Thys said.

Busi smiled at Thys’ enthusiasm and Annamari knew why. He had been more than a little sceptical when Karabo, one of the assistant teachers, had pleaded with the kibbutz members for the satellite. Thys had been really opposed to it until Karabo had explained that they would be able to talk to De Wet – and actually see him – for free, wherever he was in the world.

‘It’s still not all that easy to get hold of Steyn, you know,’ Thys continued. ‘But that’s because there’s often no Internet connection at some of the really remote lodges.’

‘They should all get satellite connections – it’s so easy,’ Busi said.

Annamari got up. She had to get out of the office. She couldn’t breathe. She needed some fresh air. She really couldn’t handle a discussion about education or technology right now. She couldn’t pretend everything was okay.

There was so much to sort out. Thys still hadn’t said anything about Arno and... and Aviva. How were they going to tell them that they were... that they couldn’t be together? And what about her? Surely after everything she had done – after Beauty and now Aviva – Thys would leave her? She would leave herself, if she was Thys. What she had done was unforgiveable.

She excused herself and ran out of the office, gulping in the fresh air as she almost fell through the door. She walked. She had no thought of where she was going. She walked, faster, eyes fixed on the path. She turned right and headed towards the poplars. There was a flat rock there. She could sit quietly, undisturbed, and sort out her thoughts.

The sun blazed down in the storm-washed azure blue sky. Somewhere in her troubled consciousness, she noticed that it was a beautiful day. It was, without a doubt, the worst day of her life.