Chapter 17 - Chapter 16

I'm dreading this phone call. My last conversation with Siyabonga was awkward as hell. I'm cringing, thinking about the version of our little encounter Vuyelwa must have given him. "No time like the present," I mutter, pulling my phone out of the side pocket of my leggings and dialling.

"Nali, hey," Siyabonga says, picking up on the first ring but sounding like I've got half his attention at best. "What's up?"

"Um, are you busy? If you're in the middle of—"

"Hold on." There's silence for a few seconds before I hear a door close on the other end. "Sorry, I was out in the dining room. I'm in the office now. You need something?"

"I'm going out tonight, and I thought I'd be fine leaving the kids because Grant and Bandile would be next door, but Bandile's got a work thing they have to go to, so—"

"I can come over, or the kids can come to me. Whatever."

"Well, it's a school night, and I have to take them in the morning, so maybe just pop in and check on them here? Zinhle's old enough. I just . . . you know what I mean?"

"It's not a problem. I'll swing by. Another girls' night? Somebody's birthday?"

For some reason I hadn't expected him to ask. He's never shown much curiosity about my social life, for what there was of it. "No, actually"—I walk into the kitchen and take a high stool at the counter—"I have a date."

The silence that follows is how a cigar must feel inside a humidor. Complete quiet sealed in an airtight box. "A date." It sounds like he's testing the word for authenticity. "Wow. Who's the lucky guy?"

"Mark Bester."

"Figures," he says, the word riding a derisive breath.