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fingers and she pulls away. She breaks into a run and he
chases her. He catches up with her and holds her to him-
self. He is about to kiss her but she pushes him away. She
is not one for public displays of affection. There is a little
bit of the old South Africa still lingering in the environ-
ment: What will all these people who are staring at them
think?
By the end of the fortnight they have graduated as
seasoned Cape Town tourists. They know which places to
revisit and which to avoid. They ride repeatedly on the
Table Mountain aerial cable car and picnic on Signal Hill.
And he accompanies her to the malls where she
shops for a new, brighter wardrobe. Again Don observes
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that she just buys something she likes without giving a
hoot about what label it is. And yet her taste is good even
though she goes for the less expensive items. He does not
see any difference between the designer clothes she
avoids and the less expensive ones she chooses. She feels
the cloth with her fingers and knows at once that it is
good quality. When they get back to the apartment she
tries on the clothes and models them for him. Like Tumi
loves to model for him whenever she has bought some-
thing new. But Kristin is not tall and busty like Tumi. She
is quite petite, in fact. But my, she does look good in these
dresses and skirts and blouses and jackets!
Unfortunately, Don and Kristin can’t be refugees in
Cape Town for ever. They have to return to Johannesburg.
Each has to face his or her own music. For her it is Mbona,
Naidoo and the new Visagie developments, whatever they
are. For him it is Tumi.
A few days after their return from Cape Town Kristin
brings up Tumi. He is in the kitchen feeding the cats and
she is just standing there looking at him. He senses that
some change has come over her. She is not the carefree
Kristin of Cape Town. A new tenseness can be seen in her
posture. He dismisses it at first as the tension of having
to return to work—the return she has been postponing
to the next day every morning.
But it is not about work. It is about them. So this
morning she brings it up.
‘What about her, Don?’ she asks.
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He knows at once that she is asking about Tumi.
‘What about her?’ he asks.
‘I feel bad about her,’ she says.
‘Things will work themselves out, Kristin.’
‘I think so too,’ she says. ‘Maybe that’s why you
should leave, go back to your apartment.’
This, of course, takes him by surprise. It must be a
joke. She can’t mean it. Not when things are going so well.
Not when they have spent fourteen glorious days in Cape
Town hiding away from the world in plain view.
‘Hey, I’m still your bodyguard, am I not? Doesn’t
mean just because we share a bed you no longer need my
protection.’
‘Stevo’s harassment has stopped,’ she says. ‘It’s been
a while now since there’s been anything. There’s no
longer any threat to my life, Don, so you must go.’
Now he sees that she is serious about this. They
should have buried themselves in Cape Town for ever.
Johannesburg has a bad effect on people. It is such
an intense place it gets into you. That’s why there are
more road-rage incidents here than anywhere else in the
country.
‘You don’t really mean it, Kristin,’ he says. ‘You’re
just getting cold feet about us.’
‘No, I’m not. I just want us to take it one step at a
time. Give each other space.’
‘I don’t take that much space.’
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His attempt to introduce some levity is futile. Her
face does not crack into a smile.
‘You know what I mean,’ she says.
‘I know exactly what you mean. You are discarding
me like a piece of chewing gum.’
‘We’ll still see each other,’ she says, her voice acquir-
ing a new imploring tone. ‘But we need to be apart. Only
then will I know I have triumphed over my own hang-
ups. Only then can we be sure we are serious about each
other. And there’s Tumi. I don’t want to be the cause of
your break-up with her.’
The next morning he takes Kristin to work in his
Saab. Then he goes to report to the VIP Protection
Services office across the street. Jim Baxter is eager to
find out what his mission away from Johannesburg was
all about. The magistrate had to give some courses in
Cape Town, some kind of in-service training that she was
conducting for new magistrates. So, he went along to
protect her because he thought the gangsters might take
the opportunity to assassinate her there. So, it was not
really a holiday as he had previously told him. Baxter
praises him for his dedication and assures him that this
will count in his favour when the board considers the
promotion, which could be any day now.
Don is pleased that at least he will derive some ben-
efit from the whole sorry affair with Kristin. ‘Sorry affair’
because he might have lost Tumi over it and now Kristin
doesn’t need him any more.
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There is not much work for him at the office, so he
decides to return to Weltevreden Park. He knows exactly
what he will do when he gets there.
In the afternoon he is back at the Roodepoort magis-
trate’s court waiting for her. He is sitting in his convertible
with the top down. The engine is running impatiently.
Kristin appears from the courthouse and minces down
the steps. Although she is carrying her magisterial brief-
case and gown, Don cannot help marvelling at how differ-
ent she looks from the dour and dowdy figure he first
knew. There has been a glowing transformation both in
her dress sense and her hairdo—it is now in a fashionable
bob. She would not be out of place in a fashion magazine
that specializes in sensible understated dress devoid of
bells and whistles.
Just at that moment Tumi walks out of the VIP
Protection Services building across the street. She came
to confront Jim Baxter, to find out exactly where he sent
Don, and what kind of an assignment this is that does not
allow him to contact her, or even to have his cellphone
switched on. She got no joy from Baxter because men are
scoundrels and will always protect each other. At least
that was her conclusion, although Baxter, for his part, did
his best to confirm that Don was indeed on a mission
with the magistrate but is now back, and indeed he came
to report at work this morning.
As she walks towards her Jaguar which is parked on
Dieperink Street she spots Don sitting in his car, and a
blonde opening the door and taking a seat next to him.
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He says something in her ear and they break into laugh-
ter. He pecks her on the cheek before he pulls out of the
parking lot. Tumi waves frantically at them to stop and
runs towards Don’s car. But they don’t see her. The Saab
speeds away.
Tumi gets into her Jaguar but does not drive away.
She just sits there, stunned.
‘So, what did the chief magistrate want to see you
about?’ asks Don as he negotiates the peak hour traffic in
the town.
‘He was not there,’ says Kristin. ‘His secretary made
an appointment for me for tomorrow.’
Don tells her about his own meeting with Jim Baxter.
He is in line for promotion, and Baxter seemed confident
that he will get it. He does not tell her though, how great
a role the vacation in Cape Town has played in tilting
things in his favour. Instead he exuberantly outlines his
plans. The same plans he used to discuss with Tumi—
how his position as the chief executive will make it pos-
sible for him to access BEE opportunities and that one
day he will take over the company and other companies
and become a millionaire or even a billionaire like
Comrade Molotov Mbungane.
Kristin doesn’t seem impressed. All she says is:
‘That’s how you people gauge the success of the new
South Africa . . . by the number of millionaires you
create?’
There’s that ‘you people’ again!
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Don stops at a traffic light and a sunburnt white
woman comes to beg. Don looks the other way and the
woman runs to Kristin’s side and relates her woeful tale
of hungry children. Kristin rummages in her purse and
hands her some money. But the traffic lights turn green
and Don pulls off. The woman runs after the car and for-
tunately is able to grab the money from Kristin’s hand.
‘That was not very nice,’ says Kristin.
Just like it is not very nice to dismiss with contempt
my enthusiasm about my bright future. But he does not
voice these thoughts. Instead he expresses his lack of
sympathy for white beggars in general because they
squandered all their opportunities during apartheid
when all the benefits of wealth, health and education
were skewed in their favour.
‘She could not have been more than ten when
apartheid came to an end. Why should she pay for the
sins of her fathers?’ asks Kristin.
Before he can rebut that his cellphone rings. He
forgot to switch it off this morning after talking to Jim
Baxter to inform him he would be reporting at the office.
‘Surely you’re not going to answer that,’ says Kristin.
‘Not only is it dangerous but it is also against the law.’
He answers it nonetheless. Because he is driving he
can’t read the name on the screen but hopes it is Jim Baxter
with the good news. He said it could be any time now.
‘I’ve just seen you with a white bitch,’ Tumi screeches
into his ear.
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‘Where are you?’ he wonders.
‘I went to VIP to ask your boss for your address at that
magistrate’s house and the bastard said he can’t give it to
me for security reasons. And then when I was leaving I
saw you.’
‘I’m coming home tonight, Tumi. We’ll talk about it.’
‘I don’t ever want to see you back there, Don,’ she
says. ‘Who is that bitch?’
‘That’s the magistrate I am supposed to protect,
Tumi.’
‘You lie to me! That was no old white woman. And do
you always kiss the people you guard?’
‘I never said she was old,’ says Don. ‘You did.’
Kristin looks at him questioningly and disapprovingly.
‘You’ve been sleeping with her, you son of a bitch!’
screams Tumi. ‘Don’t come back here.’
‘Tumi, please let’s talk about this.’
She hangs up on him.
‘Someone is in the doghouse,’ observes Kristin softly.
He does not respond. They drive quietly for some
time. You can feel the tension between them.
‘You’ll be happy to know that I’m all packed. I’m
leaving tonight,’ Don says as he drives through the gate-
way of her Weltevreden Park home.
‘What makes you think I’m happy about it?’ she asks,
with a sob in her voice.
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He parks the car in front of the garage. The tension
continues as they walk away from the car. At the door
they are greeted by a gory sight. A pig’s head dripping
with blood is stuck on one of the sharp bars of the secu-
rity grille. This freaks Kristin out—she screams and finds
refuge in Don’s arms.
‘I thought this was over,’ she says. ‘I thought the
damn threats had come to an end.’
‘Those Visagies don’t give up easily,’ says Don calmly,
and envelops her even closer to his body. She is visibly
shaken.
‘This has gone too far. And you’re leaving.’
‘If you think I can leave you at a time like this, you
have another think coming,’ he assures her. ‘Your life is
in danger, Kristin. You’ll just have to bear with my pres-
ence until this nonsense stops.’
She is relieved.
18
SEE HOW SHE GLOWS
In the boardroom of the Roodepoort magistrate’s court
Krish Naidoo is sitting at a big round table and is paging
through a folder while he waits. A few moments later
Kristin Uys enters. She looks dazzling and there is a
bounce in her step. Naidoo looks up smiling, expecting a
greeting from her. But she does not give him a second
glance. She takes a seat a few places from him and
promptly pages through her own folder. She is not really
reading anything but is keeping herself occupied so
that Naidoo can have no expectation of a conversation
with her.
‘You look different, Kristin,’ says Krish Naidoo.
‘Gorgeous. The way you used to look at Wits.’
‘Don’t pretend to be nice to me, Krish Naidoo,’ she
says tersely. ‘Not when you have stabbed me in the back.’
Naidoo decides to let that go and returns to his
folder. Kristin is miffed because she was gearing for
a fight. Bangani Mbona rushes in and apologizes for
keeping them waiting. He takes a seat opposite the mag-
istrate, and his eyes betray his amazement.
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‘Well, Ms Uys, I wouldn’t have recognized you,’ he
says. ‘You should take more holidays.’
‘With all due respect, sir, I’d appreciate it if we just
get to the point,’ she says.
The chief magistrate is taken aback and looks as
though he may erupt into something he will later regret
but common sense gets the better of him. He takes refuge
in Naidoo’s calm face and says, as if talking to him, ‘We
are quite testy today, aren’t we?’
She gives the chief magistrate an apologetic smile.
‘My reaction to your compliment was uncalled for,’
she says. ‘I am very sorry.’
‘It’s all right,’ says the chief magistrate smiling con-
descendingly. ‘We are all used to your little tantrums by
now.’
He passes documents to the magistrate and Krish
Naidoo, sliding them across the table. She knows what
this is all about the moment she sees the letterhead: The
High Court of South Africa—Transvaal Provincial
Division.
‘As you can see,’ says the chief magistrate, ‘the find-
ing of the judge is that Stevo Visagie was in contempt but
that the sentence was irregular. The maximum for this
crime is three months.’
‘But there were two incidents of contempt,’ says the
magistrate. ‘What do they say about that?’
Instead of responding Mr Mbona points her to a
paragraph in the document.
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The high court finds that there was no separate con-
tempt to warrant the extra three months. Even if the so-
called second contempt was regarded as a separate
incident—which it was not—the second three-month
sentence would have to run concurrently with the first.
Stevo Visagie has already served more than a month, and
is therefore left with a few weeks or even days in jail
because of the one-third remission to which he is enti-
tled. The prison system has yet to calculate exactly when
he will be free.
The magistrate is crestfallen while Naidoo is happy,
although he does not want to display outright glee.
Kristin Uys does not take kindly to defeat. More than
just the humiliation of having her decision reversed by a
superior court, she is struck with terror when the image
of the pig’s head dripping with blood flashes before her
eyes. If the Visagies are able to make her life a living hell
when Stevo is in jail, what more will happen when he is
on the loose?
Stevo, on the other hand, is savouring the moment.
As soon as he receives the good news from Krish Naidoo
he calls his war council, and it is gathered here today in
the persons of Shortie Visagie and Ma Visagie. He would
have liked Aunt Magda to be here, not only because she
has been supporting him with all the goodies, but he has
