Chapter 25 - Chapter Twenty-Three — Chandré

"Mama, I've got this," I tell her, stacking plates beside the sink. "You can go on up."

"You sure, my kind?"

"Pappa went up an hour ago." I laugh. "Go be with your man."

"Your father hasn't washed a dish in forty years." Hands on her hips, she rolls her eyes up at the ceiling. "Magtag. That man will sit and chew right through his own eviction."

I nod, grinning, and clear the last of the supper dishes off the table.

"Ek het gebel, gebel," Mama says. "Still nothing from Cliff. You think he's all right?"

I freeze, my hand hovering over the stack of plates. I came this week because I love my brother, and if he needs me I want to be here. That doesn't mean I'm not still gatvol about the way he handled our conversation last week.

"I'm sure he's fine." I give her a reassuring smile. "Ashwin would have phoned if something bad had gone down."

"Or Naz would have told you, I'm sure."

I can't fight off my smile. As much as I want to be here for Mama and for Cliff in case anything goes sideways, it was hard not driving over to Naz's hotel last night.

"He would have phoned, ja," I agree. "Head on up, Mama."

She kisses my cheek and makes her way to the stairs. I can hear Pappa watching Noot vir Noot. Surely my father is the only man left alive who still records that programme.

I make quick work of the dishes and fend off the restlessness. I don't want to bother Naz while he's at the dinner. He said he'd phone when he left to let me know how it went. As much for distraction as anything else, I climb the steps up to the roof.