A Woman Wronged

LUST ... LIES ... INFIDELITY ...
PAYBACK
A WOMAN
WRONGED
REBONE THIBEDI-MOGOTSI
A WOMAN
WRONGED
REBONE
THIBEDI-MOGOTSI
publishing
Published by Quickfox Publishing
PO Box 12028 Mill Street 8010
Cape Town, South Africa
www.quickfox.co.za
info@quickfox.co.za
Tel: 0861 234 256 | Fax: 0865 600 444
Limited first edition 2010
A Woman Wronged
ISBN 978-0-620-49359-8
Available from www.publisher.co.za
Copyright © Rebone Thibedi-Mogotsi
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,

stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means,
without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Editor – Angela Voges

Cover and book designer – Vanessa Wilson
Typesetting and production – Quickfox Publishing
Printing – MegaDigital, Cape Town
DEDICATION
In memory of my late parents,

Florah and Memucan Thibedi, and my
late sister Lerato Nkokolele Thibedi.
You will be forever loved.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I want to thank God the Almighty for the vision and wisdom
He has given me. Glory and Praise and Honour are Yours.
To my eldest brother, Mathang Thibedi: thank you for believing that

I could write this book and for your unfaltering encouragement.
To my son, Thuto Mogotsi: thank you for keeping me grounded.
A big thank you to Angela Voges for the professionalism she

demonstrated in editing this book.
To Quickfox Publishing: a special thank you to Vanessa Wilson

and Rachel Bey-Miller. You are simply the best!
CHAPTER ONE
‘Honey, I’m home.’

Maxwell Richardson’s deep, husky voice preceded him as he burst
into the kitchen of his lavish two-storey home. His heavy briefcase
dangled from his right hand, causing him to falter as he made his way
to the table in the centre of the room. An enormous man he was, both
in height and girth. His stature befitted his position as a renowned
High Court advocate.
‘You’re quite late today, aren’t you?’
Mandy, his loving wife of ten years, was leaning over the sink with
her back to him. She was up to her elbows in soapy water, washing
the dishes she had used to prepare dinner. For the past hour, she had
checked the time constantly, becoming increasingly troubled. What
was keeping Maxwell at work so late? He was always home before six
o’ clock – unless, of course, he called to let her know that he was out
to play golf with friends, or was joining his colleagues for a round of
drinks at their favourite pub downtown. After a hectic day in court,
they sometimes needed to get things off their minds.
One of Mandy’s greatest fears was that something might happen to
7
her husband, that she might not know about it until she received the
phone call from the hospital, or until the policeman showed up on her
doorstep. She never told Maxwell about her fears.
As he neared the table, Maxwell almost tripped over his son’s toy
train. His eyes remained fixed on his wife; his deep affection radiated
from his whole face, lighting it up. It always pleased him to come home
and find her going about her duties in the kitchen with her face beaming
with pure joy. Most often, she’d be humming a song that they both
liked: one that he sang to her on the first night of their honeymoon.
Mandy sensed his penetrating eyes on her back. She whirled around
just in time to see his briefcase slipping from his hand, thudding to the
floor. She smiled to herself. In the years they’d been living together,
she’d become accustomed to that sound. She sometimes even ached to
hear it when she was on her business trips. She wrung out the dishcloth
and dried her hands before walking across to where he was standing
at the table, immediately rising onto her toes and wrapping her arms
lovingly around his neck. Involuntarily, they slid down to rest on the
strong muscles of his back. ‘You look so worn out, sweetheart. Did you
have a hard time in court today?’ she asked with genuine concern.
He nodded his head slowly, smiling down heartily at her. ‘It was
one of those hectic days when you just wish to come home afterwards
and have your wife massage you in bed. You wouldn’t mind giving
me a massage after dinner, would you, honey?’ He was used to being
pampered by his wife, who always fretted over him and did everything
for him so that he could unwind and enjoy the evening after an
exhausting day at work.
‘I think I can manage that, but only if you promise me one thing.’
‘Anything you want, as long as I get my massage.’
A mischievous smile formed on her lips. ‘I want you to lie wholly
naked in bed while I massage you.’
He threw back his head and laughed softly. Their eyes locked
as they gazed at each other. A beautiful smile appeared on her lips,
widening to expose her exquisite white teeth. When she smiled like
that, he thought there was a bright ring of light around her eyes that
flashed back at him. For a while he stood there, just looking at her and
8
A WOMAN WRONGED
thinking: Surely this is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.
Overcome by his deep passion for her, he drew her closer to him and
engulfed her with his arms. She melted in those arms, her own arms
tightening around his back. They remained clinging to each other as
though they had not seen each other for weeks, or even woken up in
the same bedroom that morning. It was a while before she eventually
pulled herself away from him.
As usual, Maxwell strolled idly to the refrigerator and returned
holding an icy can of beer. He cracked it open and took a long, thirsty
gulp. Mandy watched him with her head shaking slightly. She knew
him better than anyone, perhaps even better than his own mother. He
would rather drink the beer straight from the can than get himself a
glass. She took his long, tapered beer glass out of the cupboard, rinsing
it in cold water before passing it to him. He accepted it shyly, smiling.
For a little while he remained silent as he poured the beer into the
glass, careful not to create a head. He hated it when his beer left a white
strip on his upper lip, like a moustache. He was so thirsty that he raised
the glass to his mouth and did not put it back onto the table until he
had drank the beer to its last drop. He burped afterwards. Mandy gave
him a disdainful look and turned her back to him, returning to the
sink to dry the bowls and pack them back into the cupboard.
One glass of beer was never enough for Maxwell, not after an
exhausting day in court. He made his second trip to the refrigerator,
refilled his glass and then slumped onto a chair at the table. It creaked
ominously under his weight. ‘Something smells good in here,’ he said,
sniffing around with his lips tightly pressed together and pushed up
towards his nostrils. ‘What are we having for dinner?’
‘Roast leg of lamb and baked potatoes with salads,’ Mandy replied as
she bent over to check on her roast in the oven. The delicious aroma of
it saturated the room – she suddenly felt famished. It always delighted
her to cook for her husband. Every time she was in the kitchen, she
remembered what her mother used to say: an easy way to a man’s heart
is through his stomach. And she had been right. Maxwell savoured her
meals and openly showed his appreciation for her.
He licked his lips and rubbed a hand over his belly. ‘My stomach
9
is already screaming for that. Nobody cooks better than you. You do
know that, don’t you, honey?’
Mandy smiled inwardly. ‘Thank you, sweetheart. If only your
mother thought the same.’
‘Of course she does,’ he replied uneasily, knowing very well that
it was a lie. His mother had had no confidence in Mandy from the
first day he brought her to meet Mandy at her apartment. Mandy had
taken time to prepare dinner, but his mother only picked at it, her face
sulking each time she swallowed. Since that evening, his mother had
never stopped warning him that Mandy was not cut out to be a good
cook. Still, she loved Mandy as if she was her own daughter.
Mandy looked sharply at him. ‘Not after the last dinner she had
with us. She criticised the whole meal and said she felt sorry for you
that you’ll have to put up with my horrid meals for the rest of your
life.’ At that, Maxwell hunched his shoulders forward and chuckled so
much that his eyes became wet with tears. And when he saw that look
of annoyance she gave him, her lips steadily tightening into a thin line,
he lurched to his feet and walked across to her. Thin lines of laughter
were still lurking around his eyes as he drew her into his arms and
kissed the back of her neck. ‘You know she didn’t mean half the things
she said. Can’t you take a joke, for goodness’ sake, Mandy?’ He was
trying to make her feel better.
But Mandy was adamant. ‘I know a joke when I hear one, Maxwell.
She meant every word she said.’
‘Anyway, don’t worry yourself about my mother. You know she can
be cranky sometimes.’
He kissed her neck again, then began to pace the kitchen floor, his
beer glass firmly clutched in his hand as if he was afraid that someone
might come and snatch it from him. His free hand was stuffed in the
pocket of his trousers. He was deep in thought. When he reached the
door, he turned abruptly, and started back in her direction.
‘Someone got me really pissed today.’
‘I know that person can’t be me. You’ve only just arrived home, and
I haven’t said much to you to get you pissed.’
‘No honey, it’s not you that got me pissed.’
10
A WOMAN WRONGED
‘Then who is it?’

‘Do you remember the case I told you about yesterday over dinner
... between my client and this giant oil company?’
‘The client who’s suing the company millions of rands for a breach
of contract?’
He lifted his eyebrows and gazed at her with amazement. ‘I’m
impressed, honey. So you actually do pay attention when I tell you
about my court cases.’
She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Do I have a choice, sweetheart? That’s
the only thing you seem to talk about lately at the dinner table.’
‘That’s not true, and you know it,’ he said warmly. ‘Anyway, this
client of mine ...’ But Mandy could not let him go on, knowing that
once he started talking, nothing was going to make him stop until her
head began to throb. She walked over to him and put a finger to his
lips. ‘Tell me all about it over dinner, please, Maxie. I really don’t want
to burn the food. Danny is in the TV room. He’s been asking after
you the whole afternoon. Go over and say hello to him.’ She wished to
herself that he would then forget to broach the subject.
Maxwell relented grudgingly. He put his glass back on the table
and started for the door. As he brushed past her he gave her a good-
humoured smack on one buttock. She squealed and thrust a wet dish
cloth at him. He ducked his head just in time to see it flop on the floor
a few inches in front of him.
He dragged his exhausted body down the hallway. As he approach
ed the TV room, he heard the TV blaring. He pushed open the door,
stepped inside, and closed it without his son even noticing. Maxwell
tapped his shoulder, startling him. Danny turned to look up. A flicker
of joy ignited in his eyes at the sight of him. ‘Oh, hello daddy, I didn’t
hear you come in.’
‘With the volume of that television so high, you couldn’t have
heard a thunderous lightning storm.’ He walked over and turned down
the volume before he slouched on the couch next to him. He hesitated
for a second, then lifted his feet onto the coffee table without bothering
to take off his shoes. ‘What are you up to this evening, son?’ he asked,
although certain of the answer.
11
‘I’m playing my TV game. Want to join me, daddy? It would be

great fun.’
Maxwell was reluctant. He loved playing games with his son. It
made him feel thirty, rather than forty. He was tempted to say yes, but
his exhaustion leached out of his pores, and drowsiness was wearing
down his eyes. As much as he hated to disappoint his son, he knew
he could not do what he was asking. He stretched out his arm and
pulled Danny closer to him, allowing him to snuggle under his broad
shoulder. ‘Son, what do you say we play the game tomorrow when I
get back from work? Daddy is feeling very tired right now. What I
need is good relaxation and some quietness.’ When he noticed the
disappointment creep into Danny’s eyes, he rushed to cheer him up.
‘But you can tell me about the school play you’ve been rehearsing all
week. Did you guys get to perform it today?’
There was nothing Danny liked better than to talk about his
character in the play. It brought out the innate creativity and boundless
talents that exceeded his age. He sat up straight to face his father,
legs crossed on the couch and eyes glittering, and began to relate the
play. But his voice became a soothing sedative. It was not long before
Maxwell was fast asleep and snoring loudly, head slumped to one side.
Danny shook his head and shifted his attention back to his game. More
than ever, he believed his mother when she said his father was a couch
potato.
Mandy had just finished laying the dinner table in the dining room
and was hurrying up the stairs to the bathroom to freshen up for dinner.
The evening was hotter than it had been all afternoon. The hustle and
bustle of preparing dinner had made her all sweaty. In one hand, she
carried Maxwell’s heavy briefcase to drop in his cosy office on her way.
In the years of their marriage, she’d become used to picking up after
her husband. If it was not his briefcase left lying on the kitchen floor,
it was his jacket and shoes scattered on the TV room floor next to his
couch while he enjoyed his after-work siesta.
Mandy was an assistant director in a huge retail company. Every
one who knew her recognised that she was exceedingly beautiful. She
carried an aura of elegance that made people want to look at her. Her
12
A WOMAN WRONGED
body was slim, but curvaceous around the hips, with long, thin legs.
When she was a little girl, her father used to say she had ballerina
legs. At that she would smile, even though she had no inkling what
the word ballerina meant. To her it sounded pretty much like a warm
compliment.
No one cared more about fashion and jewellery than she did. Her
tailored business suits fitted her immaculate figure as if they were cut
specifically to her measurements and sewn on her. Her exquisite neck
stood out from the rest of her body. Even without a gold necklace or
scarf wrapped around it, it was noticeably fabulous.
She was born into a prosperous upper-class family as the only child.
Her mother was a gynaecologist who ran a busy private practice in Cape
Town, where she lived with her husband. Mandy grew up knowing
her mother as a strict disciplinarian and her father as reserved, and a
softy. He was a respected civil engineer and the mastermind behind the
construction of sophisticated bridges and highways.
Once, when she was a little girl, Mandy recalled overhearing her
parents talking. She did not try to listen to their conversation; their
voices just came unsolicited to her ears. ‘Our little Mandy has your
good looks and my quiet personality,’ her father had said to her mother
in that soft and gentle voice. It was only years later, when Mandy was
studying at university, that she came to understand what her father had
really meant by that. Her mother was extremely beautiful, constantly
turning heads. But she was overly loud and hectoring too. On many
occasions, her father would deliberately allow his wife to hector him –
not that he was afraid to stand up against her, but merely to maintain
the peace in their household.
It took Mandy a few minutes to freshen up before she walked back
downstairs to check on her husband and little Danny, and to announce
that dinner was ready. As she stepped into the TV room, she was met
by Maxwell’s loud snoring. It echoed in the room. Danny looked up at
her with that derisive look that said: Mummy, you were right; he sure
is a couch potato. Mandy did not waste time. She dragged Maxwell off
his seat and down the hallway to the dining room; his eyes were muzzy
with sleep. Danny was trailing behind them, secretly laughing at his
13
father. Sometimes Maxwell could look pretty much like a child, just
like Danny.
Maxwell hated it when his sleep was interrupted. He was still in a
trance-like state as they reached the dining room. He groped for his
chair as if in the dark and threw the weight of his body onto it. Much
like his own father, he always sat at the same place in the dining room,
at the end of the table with his back to the window; from there, he had
a good view of the whole room.
Dinner was delicious. But Mandy was just toying with her food,
eating slowly with no display of hunger. She seemed a bit jittery and
distant. That did not go unnoticed by her husband. He could tell
instinctively that something was bothering her. The curtains in the
room were blowing in the cool breeze from the open windows. Strands
of hair had blown onto her face. He reached across and brushed them
back with his fingers. ‘A penny for your thoughts?’
There was a pause. Mandy replied in a low whisper. ‘Better make
it a rand.’
‘Is it that bad?’ he asked in his typical frank manner.
Mandy nodded her head hesitantly, rubbing her nose fiercely with
her finger like someone suffering some kind of severe allergy. She was
consciously aware of her nervousness. It infuriated her. Throughout
her life she had never allowed herself to appear anything other than
outwardly calm. She drained her glass of wine and asked Maxwell to
refill it. He did. When he passed it back to her, she managed a nervous
grin.
There was a long silence in which Maxwell and Danny stole
glimpses at each other, their eyes filled with mounting curiosity. They
had never seen her acting so strangely, much like a cat on hot bricks.
Maxwell reverted to his earlier question. ‘Are you going to tell me
what’s troubling you, honey?’
She leaned over the table and whispered as though she did not
intend Danny to overhear. ‘Well ... I’ve been meaning to tell you this. I
have to leave for Port Elizabeth in the morning to represent my boss at
the quarterly board meeting.’
14
A WOMAN WRONGED
His expression changed abruptly, becoming suddenly stiff. ‘How

long have you known about this trip?’
‘Only since this afternoon. I didn’t expect it.’
‘But you’re not the only person in the sales team, are you? There’s
Tom and Henry too. Surely he could have picked any of them to
represent him? Why did it have to be you?’
She tapped the side of her glass with her index finger. ‘I guess
he believes I’m the best person to handle this kind of meeting,’ she
answered, matter-of-factly.
‘And I suppose you couldn’t wait to say yes to him?’
With great effort, Mandy refrained from responding to his sarcastic
comment, thinking it was a bit daft. Lately she had been observing him
and noticing how uptight he was. She imagined it was his stressful job
that was beginning to take its toll on him. She made a quick mental note
to phone their family physician and secure an appointment for him.
Perhaps she might even sweet-talk the doctor into issuing Maxwell a
prescription for mild sedatives, just to get him to calm down a bit.
‘What time is your flight, by the way?’ Maxwell asked, swallowing
mouthfuls of his beer in an attempt to calm himself. No matter how
refined and educated he was, he still retained the characteristics of a
conservative husband, always groaning and loathing it when Mandy’s
job took her away from home. He strongly believed that a wife should
be home to receive her husband when he returned from work. On
many occasions, he even tried to talk her into quitting her job. But
Mandy was stubborn and refused to let him have his way with her. She
was not one to believe that women belonged in the kitchen.
‘I’m boarding the nine-thirty flight,’ she replied abruptly. The way
he was glaring at her unnerved her. She finished her second glass of
wine so quickly that even she was stunned. She was almost tempted to
ask him to refill it when, from the corner of her eye, she caught sight
of Danny staring at her in a certain way – head tilted to one side and
supported on the palm of his small hand, eyes narrowing. She thought
she knew what was on his mind because it was on her mind too. He had
never seen her drink more than one glass of wine at the dinner table.
15
In the end, she rose from her chair and walked lazily to the kitchen,
returning seconds later with a can of soda.
Maxwell waited until she had settled in her seat. ‘I could drop you
off at the airport and pick you up in the afternoon if you want.’
‘Well ... that’s the snag, sweetheart. The board meeting is for three
days and afterwards I’m expected to chair the staff meeting and brief
them on the upcoming restructuring. I’ll be back on Friday evening.’
He frowned at her. ‘Are you hearing what you’re saying, for heaven’s
sake, Mandy? Does your boss know that you have a five-year-old at
home to care for, and a husband too, for that matter?’
Mandy folded her hands as if in prayer. Defensively, she said, ‘It
will only be for three nights. But I promise you from now on I’ll never
accept any trip that will keep me away from home, at least not for a
long while.’
‘Haven’t I heard that line before, for crying out loud? Just two
weeks ago you were away for the whole week, and the week before that.
When are you going to be home with us?’
Her temper was slowly rising, but she held it in check. ‘You make it
sound like I’m never home, which is not true at all. It happens once in
a month and for a few days only. Is it really that bad?’
‘It’s bad enough to leave behind a five-year-old and a husband to
fend for themselves.’ His eyes had suddenly turned cold, like water
flowing under ice.
Without warning she snapped at him. ‘That’s the most selfish thing
I’ve ever heard. Don’t make me feel like I am a bad mother and a wife
here, because I’m not.’ There was a momentary pause and she was in
control of herself again. ‘Sweetheart, please try and understand, just
this one time. I swear I’ll make it up to you when I get back. This is
a great opportunity for me – the greatest of my entire career. I can’t
afford to miss it.’ Her voice was soft and gentle as she said it.
But Maxwell was not convinced. ‘You seem to sacrifice what really
cannot be measured; the harmony and joy of your family. You can’t
keep letting your job take you away from home so frequently. Unless,
of course ...’
‘Unless of course what, Maxwell?’ Her senses were on the alert.
16
A WOMAN WRONGED
‘Unless of course you like it.’

His comment had left her stunned and she raised her eyelids in
question. ‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’
He covered his mouth and coughed once to clear his throat.
‘Perhaps you derive pleasure out of these trips and enjoy being away
from me and little Danny.’ Now that he started saying what had been
on his chest for a while, he plunged on, determined to express his
disgruntlement and have his say for once. ‘It’s becoming clear to me
that your priorities are set in your job and much less in your family. It
wouldn’t surprise me if there was someone keeping you company on
these endless trips.’
She glared at him in total bewilderment. For her it was inconceivable
that someone like Maxwell, who had known her for that long, should
have such malevolent thoughts about her. She had always believed
they had unwavering trust in each other. They were true soulmates.
She pressed her lips together in mute anger and flashed wrath-filled
eyes at him. ‘Are you insinuating that I’m cheating on you, Maxwell?’
Her voice, so smooth and gentle moments ago, had changed tone and
volume. She was literally yelling at him. She had never used that tone
with him before because she knew how much he hated it when people
yelled at him, especially when their voices quivered.
Maxwell rolled his sleeves up as though preparing to wade into a
fight. ‘That’s exactly my point, Mandy. Can you honestly look me in
the eye and tell me that I’m wrong about this – that I’m not making it
all up?’ He too had his voice raised at her, barking like an angry, caged
dog.
She wiggled an irate finger at him. ‘In case you don’t know, I
conduct myself within the range of my professional ethics and my
personal moral values.’
‘Then how do you explain this constant yearning to spend endless
nights in hotel rooms and not with your family?’
Mandy could feel her fists opening and clenching in uncontrolled
fury. She had a compelling urge to rise from her chair, walk around
the table to him, and to throttle his thick neck. But she let the urge slip
away. Instead, she jumped from her chair and stormed to the kitchen,
17
but when she got there she stood looking around, not sure what she
had come there for. For a fleeting second she thought of her mother.
She had been right to say that men could screw up your life if you
were not careful. Seconds later she was back in the dining room and
on her chair. For a long while she sat quietly, leaning her head back and
calming herself by listening to her breathing.
But Maxwell was not about to let her off the hook. He regarded her
fiercely. ‘Well, what do you have to say for yourself, Mandy? Is that true
or not? Are you seeing someone else? I didn’t hear you give a precise
answer.’ In his moment of anger, he had got carried away, and ended
up addressing her as if she was the accused on a witness stand. Mandy
sensed it instantly. It annoyed her. She answered him in the exact
manner in which he had addressed her. ‘I can only accept accusations
backed by evidence, but right now I don’t think you have any.’
‘I don’t need to dig any deeper for evidence. It’s lying naked for
anyone to see. Any fool can see what’s going on right under my nose.
I wouldn’t be surprised if tongues are already wagging at your office.’
There was an austerity in his voice that Mandy had never heard before.
‘How dare you accuse me of anything like that?’ She banged a
clenched fist on the table; the plates and cutlery rattled. So infuriated
was she with Maxwell that she did not notice Danny’s glass of apple
juice topple over and spill onto her white tablecloth. He picked it up
and refilled it from the jug in silence. It was not often that his parents
fought at the dinner table. It left him looking completely petrified, and
baffled too.
During an awkward silence, Maxwell felt a craving for nicotine. He
reclined in his chair and reached for the cigarette packet in the pocket
of his shirt. He pulled one out, brought it to his mouth and struck a
match to light it. For a while he allowed himself to relish the smoke-
filled nicotine as it filtered out through his mouth and nostrils. Each
time he puffed out the thick smoke, he kept his head flexed backwards
so he could watch as it coiled up at the ceiling, like a whirlwind. His
eyes cut through the smoke he was creating around himself like cat’s
eyes in the dark.
Mandy watched him, utterly repulsed. She hated it when he
18
A WOMAN WRONGED
smoked in the house, especially when Danny was around. He had

been doing too much of that lately. At the irritating smell of the smoke,
she wrinkled her nose with the back of her finger. And evidently not
a passive smoker, she began to sneeze. ‘Maxwell,’ she shouted at him
between the sneezing. ‘Have I not warned you before against smoking
in the house? This is not healthy for me and Danny. Very soon you’ll
turn us into passive smokers. And in the end there won’t be any
difference between you and us.’ Maxwell was not used to anyone telling
him what to do. He retorted at her in utter displeasure. ‘For heaven’s
sake, Mandy, can’t a man enjoy his smoke peacefully in the comfort of
his house? How many times should I go outside in the cold if I need
my cigarette?’
‘I still can’t understand why you’re finding it so difficult to quit
smoking. Need I remind you of what the smoke did to your father, of
the lung cancer that cut short his life?’
‘Why do you keep bringing up something that happened so long
ago?’
‘Because it could happen to you too, don’t you think?’
He shrugged his shoulders indifferently. ‘I’ll quit when you stop
nagging me.’
‘Nagging?’ She was appalled. ‘Since when have I ever nagged you?’
‘Isn’t that what you’re doing right now?’
‘I’m merely stating a fact about smoking. Do you call that nagging?’
Reluctantly, he stubbed out the cigarette, but left the matchstick
dangling from the side of his mouth, as if he hoped it would take away
his craving. The smoke was still coiling up and settling on the white
ceiling. And when her sneezing persisted, she rose slowly from her
chair and walked to the open window to gulp a lungful of fresh air.
‘You’ve been edgy and tense lately,’ she said as she stepped away
from the window to return to her seat. ‘I think it’s time you visited the
doctor for your routine check-up.’
‘Don’t you dare try and divert the attention onto me. This argument
is not about my health and how uptight I seem. It’s all about you and
what you’re doing behind my back.’ He was aggressive, shifting uneasily
in his chair.
19
‘Well ... I won’t dignify your foolish accusation with an answer,’ she
retorted, clicking her tongue in utter irritation.
‘What a convenient way to run away from the truth! It’s staring
you in the face, now, and you can’t handle it?’ He made an abrupt move
to get to his feet, but, with a second thought, sank back into his chair.
Droplets of perspiration were breaking out all over his face. He wiped
them with the back of his hand.
‘Just go to hell and stay there, Maxwell Richardson!’ She folded her
arms and reclined in her chair, staring up at the ceiling and wishing for
their bickering to end. It was futile to continue arguing with him. He
could be stubborn if he wanted to, always wanting his way even when
he knew he was in the wrong.
Danny had been quiet and meditative, but thought it wise to
intervene. All the bickering had made him lose his appetite. He had
pushed his half-finished plate of food to the far corner of the table.
First, he looked at his father, and then at his mother. ‘Why are you two
fighting? Is this all because of me?’ His little face bore a look of sadness
mixed with apprehension, eyes brimming with tears.
Mandy and Maxwell exchanged shocked glances across the table.
In their heated moments, they had completely forgotten that their son
was right there at the table with them, listening to every word they
were lashing out at each other.
Seeing his solemn face and the tears now trickling down it, Mandy
felt a spasm of guilt grip her. She pulled back her chair and ran around
the table to him, immediately wrapping her arms protectively around
him. She shot Maxwell a scornful look. ‘Listen to me, baby.’ She spoke
in a gentle and soft voice. ‘This little scuffle has absolutely nothing to
do with you. It’s all between daddy and me, but nothing that we can’t
resolve. You know very well that daddy and I love you very much and
would never do anything to hurt you, don’t you, darling?’ She waited
a short while until she saw him nod his head hesitantly before she
continued. ‘I promise you this will never ever happen again, okay?
Now, give mummy that beautiful smile of yours,’ she said, coaxing him
and tickling his armpits.
20
A WOMAN WRONGED
So comforting were his mother’s words that Danny began to

relax. As his mother continued to tickle him, a tiny smile twitched the
corners of his lips, and then widened until he was grinning like an
infant learning to smile for the first time. Mandy let out an inaudible
sigh of relief. Danny was the one who put smiles on their faces. They
always looked to him to say something flippant to make them all laugh
and to ease the tension in the house.
Danny’s insatiable appetite returned. He reached for his plate of
food and gobbled it, finishing every last crumb and licking his fingers
afterwards. Then he grasped the bowl of dessert, his spoon digging
deeply into the delicious rice pudding his mother had prepared with
love. It always pleased her to see him eat like that. While he was
tucking in, she and Maxwell continued to glare at each other like cat
and mouse – one planning to attack, the other frantically scanning the
escape route.
No sooner had Danny finished his pudding than Mandy gestured
to the door. ‘Run along and brush your teeth, darling. Daddy will
be with you in a minute to tuck you into bed and to read you your
favourite bedtime story.’
‘Okay. Good night,’ Danny said as he got to his feet.
Maxwell had his head tilted to one side, watching his son as he
started for the door. There was a forced grin on his face. At the door,
Danny turned abruptly to look over his shoulder, for no apparent
reason. He found that his parents were staring after him. He waggled
his finger at his father and said, ‘Don’t be too long, daddy.’
‘I’ll be with you before you know it, son,’ Maxwell answered, waving
a cheerful hand at him.
Danny’s smile was soon replaced by a worried look as he walked
down the passage. Secretly he was wondering if his parents had only
been waiting for him to disappear out of sight and hearing just so they
could get back at each other’s throats. Although he adored his father,
he sometimes resented him when he caused his mother to be sad. He
was overly protective over her, not wanting to see her hurting or even
crying.
21
It was not until his bathroom door had opened and closed behind
him that Mandy turned on Maxwell, eyes dark with rage. But when
she spoke she managed to keep her voice in a low whisper. ‘See what
you just did to our son? This jealousy of yours is getting way out of
hand. If you’re not careful, it will end up ruining this marriage. I am
going upstairs. This conversation is over. And you can forget about the
massage I promised you. If I was as mean and spiteful as you, I’d make
you sleep on the couch.’
She pushed back her chair with such force that it screeched on
the tiled floor. After she had taken a few steps out of the room, she
immediately retraced her steps, her face contemplative as though
trying to remember something. And when she did remember, she
snapped her two fingers like someone who had just struck some
lucrative business deal. She poked her head through the open door
and looked across at Maxwell. ‘You must know it’s your turn to wash
the dishes tonight. And while you’re at it, make sure you wash all the
pots and pans.’
She hurried down the hallway without looking back, swearing at
him under her breath. Maxwell waited a few seconds before he slowly
got to his feet. For a while it seemed as though he was following her
to their bedroom when suddenly he stopped dead in the middle of
the hallway, both his hands balled in the pockets of his trousers. He
remained standing there, watching her as she ran up the stairs two
steps at a time.
Despite the anger that was still seething inside him, he envied her
athleticism. He could have been an athlete himself, back then in his
school years. But he lacked the aggression and the drive, so much so
that even boys with less ability but more drive than him could beat
him on the track. Walking up the stairs of his own house always left
him panting. Each time he reached the top of the staircase he felt as if
he had climbed a thousand stairs or run a hundred-metre race. And it
stirred a dull pain in his right knee. The pain of it increased with each
step he took. Once, he had asked his family physician to explain it to
him. The doctor had cautioned him. ‘It’s osteoarthritis, Mr Richardson.
It gets worse with movement, and is common at your age.’ Maxwell had
22
A WOMAN WRONGED
listened attentively to the doctor with fear rising somewhere down in

his belly, and asked, ‘Can this arthritis thing be cured, Doctor?’
The doctor had given him a friendly pat on the shoulder and
replied, ‘Only with weight reduction, my friend. Otherwise prepare to
move downstairs to a guest bedroom. But I doubt if Mrs Richardson
will move down with you.’ The doctor’s last remark had aroused in him
the strong impulse to watch his diet and cut down on his booze.
As Mandy continued up the stairs, she was conscious of Maxwell’s
eyes on her, piercing right through her back like twin arrows. Only
after she had reached her bedroom door did she turn to look over her
shoulder. And there he was, staring up at her. She stuck out her tongue
and pulled a monkey-face before opening the door and slamming it
shut behind her. She almost took it off its hinges.
Maxwell picked up his steps until he reached Danny’s bathroom.
Outside the door he hesitated for a moment, then gently turned the
handle and stepped inside.
‘Oh, it’s you, daddy,’ Danny said, looking up at him with his
effortless smile returning to his face.
‘How is it going in here, son?’ He had added a cheerful tone in his
voice.
‘I’ve just run the water in the basin.’
‘Good. Now do everything mummy has taught you and let’s get out
of here.’
He supervised the washing of Danny’s face and hands, the cleaning
of his teeth and the brushing of his hair. Throughout the proceedings
he remained quiet and thoughtful. The bickering was beginning
to bother him. His rational senses were steadily returning, and the
embarrassment and shame were slowly kicking in. He recognised that
his outbursts and accusations were boisterous and unwarranted. He
regretted every one of them. Mandy had been nothing but a good wife
to him, and a doting mother to his son. If there was anyone with dark
and horrid secrets in their marriage, it was him.
His thoughts were interrupted by Danny as he locked his hand into
his. ‘I’ve finished, daddy. Let’s get da hell out of here.’
Maxwell cringed inside, knowing it was his foul language his son
23
had learnt. He knew he had a long way to go to undo the damage he

had done to his son. Oblivious to the turmoil that was boiling up inside
his father, Danny fell cheerfully into step beside him, swinging his
hand back and forth. His tiny hand felt warm and moist on his daddy’s
flesh. Maxwell cast a downward glance at him. Their eyes met. He was
moved by the expression of innocence on his little face. It stirred in him
a sudden sense of tenderness. Overwhelmed by emotions, he reached
out and scooped him up into his strong arms and began tickling his
armpits like his mother had done earlier at the dinner table. Danny
chuckled with the same degree of amusement. By the time they reached
Danny’s bedroom, Maxwell was in a surprisingly cheerful mood and
ready to tell his son a good bedside story – one that his grandfather
had told him when he was Danny’s age.
But Danny did not allow him a chance to get there. As soon as his
father had tucked him into bed, he asked, ‘Did you get to win that big
case in court today, daddy?’
The question caught Maxwell completely off guard. Smiling, he sat
at the edge of Danny’s bed and smoothed back his son’s curls. ‘How did
you know I had a big case in court today, son?’
Danny matched his smile to expose his large, irregular milk teeth.
‘I heard you telling mummy about it all through dinner yesterday.’
Not only was Maxwell stunned by his son’s interest in his job, he
was also impressed by his sharp little mind. He rubbed the back of
his head with his hand while his mind drifted to what Mandy once
said to him, that he had to be cautious of anything he said when their
son was around. Now he knew she had been right. Nothing seemed
to get past him in their household. He wondered how much of their
conversations Danny had told his teachers at school.
As though reading his thoughts, Danny plunged on before his
father had a moment to contemplate an answer to his question. ‘My
teacher asked me the other day what your job is, and I said you were an
advo ... advo ...’ He was stumbling for the right word.
‘Advocate.’ Maxwell finished for him, pulling him toward him and
allowing him to snuggle under his shoulder. Danny grinned gleefully
at him. Maxwell made a squeaking noise at the back of his throat as
24
A WOMAN WRONGED
though clearing it before he spoke. ‘The case you overheard me tell

your mummy about is not until tomorrow, son. But I promise you,
when I do win it, you and I will go out and celebrate.’ He was smiling
brightly as he said it. He always cherished moments of small talk with
his son. Each time, it left him feeling young at heart.
‘Do you promise, daddy?’ Danny’s voice was muffled by the bed
clothes. He too enjoyed his moments alone with his father and wanted
to chat some more with him, but it was becoming increasingly difficult
to keep his eyes open. His father’s soothing voice was slowly putting
him to sleep. Before he knew it, he was breathing through his half-
open mouth, deep in his sleep.
Maxwell tucked the bedcovers around him. ‘I promise, son. Now,
sleep tight.’ He kissed Danny’s forehead and tiptoed out of the bedroom,
switched off the light and closed the door behind him.
Moments later, he was in the kitchen, dutifully washing the dishes.
Again, his mind veered. He thought of the insomnia that had been
plaguing him for months on end. Bit by bit it was beginning to cause
him to dread going to bed. Each night he watched as his wife fell asleep
in bed beside him, then he lay awake for hours, staring bleakly at the
dark ceiling and listening to the night devils reminding him of his
wicked deeds. For a long while he remained still at the sink, holding
a plate between his soapy hands, eyes tightly shut as he tried to make
sense of how the relationship with his mistress had started.
There were stolen moments of innocent text-messaging that lifted
his spirits and made him feel like a high-school boy falling in love for
the first time; infrequent mid-week lunches in restaurants where no
one was likely to recognise him; then occasional stops at her place on
his way home from work, holding hands on the couch, cuddling and
kissing – until, one day, he was overpowered by his desire for her and
carried her to the bedroom, her arms tightly wrapped around his neck.
They began kissing. There was hunger and urgency in their kisses.
He undressed her, and she was helping him. She aroused feelings inside
him that he never thought existed, and forced him to do things to her
that he never thought possible, things he never would have thought of
doing to any woman. And then they began to make love. Her sexual
25
hunger had been insatiable and voracious. As much as he gave it to her,

causing her to scream with absolute pleasure, over and over again, she
kept begging him for more. Her hair was a damp tangle from all the
heavy sweating, strands of it drooping over her face and clinging on
her eyes – almost blinding her. Only when she saw him explode with
sheer exhaustion, head falling limply back on the pillows, did she allow
him a few moments to catch his breath and regain his strength before
she groped for his maleness and was on top of him again. Even when
he exerted his manly authority and tossed her aside just so he could be
atop her, she reversed the position with such tenacity, wanting to be in
complete control.
Their lovemaking was pure heaven! Each time they climaxed –
together – there was a loud explosion. A blissful rapture! If he had died
in those crazy moments and woken up immediately afterwards in hell,
he knew he would at least have tasted heaven. Since that afternoon,
she’d walked relentlessly through his mind. He could not banish her.
It was a long time since he had been preoccupied with any woman to
a point of obsession. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, he would
wake up with his wife sleeping peacefully beside him, after dreaming
he was making love to her. The dream would seem so real that when
he groped for his maleness in the dark it would feel hard as rock and
painfully erect, his whole body drenched in perspiration, heart beating
wildly. He lusted for her, day and night. And before he had any control
of it, his lust was full-blown. He kept going back, and begging her for
it. There was nothing he would not do for her, nothing at all, if it meant
getting her into bed and having her do to him all those exotic and
rapturous things that ignited explosions of pleasure inside him.
But a small, rational voice in the back of his mind kept gnawing
at him, urging him to walk away from her while there was still time.
Much as he tried, he felt powerless to heed it. What man in his right
mind would walk away from such bliss, such ecstasy? But as he stood
in the kitchen, looking back, he wished he’d had the courage and the
sense to put it behind him. Now the damage was done – an incalculable
damage.
Oddly enough, deep within his heart he had always known that
26
A WOMAN WRONGED
he did not want to be saddled with her later. It was the lust he wanted
to pursue, the fun of it, the challenge. But it was his wife he loved and
wanted to spend the rest of his life with. His eyes were brimming with
tears as he dried the dishes and packed them in the cupboard. And
when despair pressed down on him, he pulled a chair at the table and
slouched into it.
He sat there for what seemed like hours, his face buried in his
hands, and tried not to think about anything until he started to crave
nicotine. He pulled out the cigarette and lit it. It was not long before the
ashtray was full of freshly stubbed cigarette butts.
Then, a thought came to him like a helping hand, which he grasped
gratefully: perhaps that very night was the perfect time to confess his
infidelity to his wife, to explain to her that he was not in his right mind
when he committed it, and to beg her forgiveness. He knew that Mandy
loved him dearly; that much was certain. She would understand that
such things do happen, that lust makes people irrational, and that men,
being men, are bound to get lured by it at some stage in their lives.
Seeing how remorseful he was, she would find it in her heart to forgive
him.
At that instant he looked up at the ceiling with eyes tightly shut and
mumbled a silent prayer. ‘Dear God, please help me. I swear that I’ll
never commit infidelity again for as long as I live. From now on I’ll be
a better husband and father, and most of all, a better person.’
When he opened his eyes, he felt miraculously different. His heart
felt lighter. Much of the guilt and apprehension had ebbed from his
face. It was as though God had already answered his prayer. He thought
of Mandy upstairs with a rush of affection. He could not wait to crawl
into bed beside her and have a long chat with her. Perhaps when they
woke in the morning it would be the beginning of a whole new life for
him, and for his family. With great anticipation, he hurried to scrub
the pots and pans, then packed them neatly in the cupboard. Then, he
wiped the sink and table as he always watched Mandy do when it was
her turn to clean up.
Before he left the kitchen, he emptied the ashtray and wiped it
clean so that Mandy would not know he had been smoking in the
27
house again. He closed the windows, switched off all the lights and
hurried to the bedroom, deliberately ignoring the throbbing in his
arthritic knee. But halfway up the stairs, another thought occurred to
him, one that stopped him abruptly and left him reeling with sick fear:
Mandy was in a bad enough state as it was, after their little scuffle. If he
dared confess to her, her trust and respect in him would be shattered,
and their marriage would never recover. They’d been married by a
Catholic priest. When he said his vows, she had believed him to be as
sincere as she had been herself, that they would remain faithful to each
other, and that only death would come between them.
Just for a moment, standing there and looking down the stairs,
vertigo and breathlessness overcame him. He put out a hand and
clutched the banister tightly. He kept clutching it until the vertigo
subsided. By the time he reached the bedroom door, he was more
confused than he had ever been before – caught between wanting to
confess his evil sins to his wife and wanting to keep them to himself.
In the end, he decided not to say anything. Some secrets were best
kept secret if it meant preserving the family you love. Besides, what
the mind does not know, the heart does not grieve about. ‘But for how
long will I be able to keep this secret from her?’ he asked himself as he
turned the door handle and stepped quietly into the dark room.
28
CHAPTER TWO
In the bedroom, Mandy had undressed, switched off the lights and
sprawled into bed, immediately shutting her eyes – an act of com
posure that lasted for an hour and a half before Maxwell appeared at
the doorway. She heard him open and close the door, and knew he was
undressing in the dark. She listened, lying still and pretending to be
asleep.
For a long while Maxwell sat at the edge of the bed as he mulled
over an approach to his wife. He might not be brave enough to confess
his sins to her, but he owed her an apology for his earlier outbursts
and accusations. He thought of his late father. He used to keep heaps
of presents hidden in the basement where his wife would not find
them. Only he and Maxwell knew about them. It was their little secret.
Each time he slipped up and wronged his wife to a point where she
would steadfastly insist that he sleep on the couch, he would sneak
down to the basement, with Maxwell beaming the torch behind him,
and bring out one of the presents. Maxwell would then watch as his
mother dragged him to their bedroom, eyes beaming at the present.
And before long, some funny noises would come from the bedroom,
29
some loud squeaking of the springs on the bed and some soft calling
out of names. Although Maxwell had no way of knowing at the time
what all the sounds were really about, he just knew that his father’s
tricks had once more worked wonders with his mother and that they
were happy in there together. He wished at that moment that he had
been smart like his father and kept something in readiness to cajole
his wife.
After much deliberation, Maxwell snuggled into bed beside her. His
cold flesh brushed against her warm body. She stiffened and shifted far
away from him. He sensed the distance she had created between them
and drew closer to her, letting his hand rest over her shoulder. Mandy
hesitated for a second and shrugged it off her, and then she turned and
faced the wall. He drew closer until their bodies were touching. His
hands gripped her shoulders in an attempt to make her turn and face
him. But Mandy resisted, holding the side of the bed firmly.
He shut his eyes for a split second as though summoning another
prayer and said, ‘Mandy, please, don’t shut me out.’ He was begging her.
He had never begged anyone for anything his entire life, but he heard
himself begging.
‘I just want to be left alone, please, Maxwell.’ Her gentle reply
had surprised him. He had expected her to yell at him like she had
done earlier on. Without giving it a single thought, he groped for the
lamp switch on her side and switched it on. He was not in the habit
of addressing pressing family issues in the dark. He had always been
one who believed that things were better said looking into each other’s
eyes.
The sudden bright light blinded her. ‘What did you do that for?’
she asked as she rubbed her eyes.
Maxwell raised himself onto his elbow. ‘Sorry about the light. But
we need to talk.’
‘I thought I said I wanted to be left alone. What part of that don’t
you understand?’ The veins on her neck were starting to rise like dough
in the oven, pulsing so hard that she could swear they were an inch
from bursting open.
30
A WOMAN WRONGED
‘I heard you, and understand you perfectly. But I still need us to

talk.’
‘What’s there to talk about anyway? You’ve already drawn your daft
conclusions about me. I can’t change the way you think about me, can
I, Maxwell?’
‘You have every reason to feel the way you do. I’m an asshole. Call
me anything you want. But please, Mandy, give me a chance. Hear
what I have to say.’
At his persistence, Mandy turned, coming face-to-face with him.
Her face, inches from his, stiffened as her eyes met his. ‘Okay, Maxwell.
I’m all ears now. What is it you wanted to say to me?’
With a shaky start, and much to Mandy’s annoyance, he said, ‘I’ve
reflected on the odd events of the evening and recognise that I was
totally out of line with you. For what it’s worth, I’m truly sorry. The
truth is that I never meant to hurt your feelings.’ His voice was low,
almost inaudible. Mandy had to strain her ears to hear him out.
For a while she was silent as she allowed herself to absorb what
Maxwell was saying. She didn’t expect it. She sat upright and propped
herself back against the pillows, her arms crossed in front of her
breasts. ‘What in the world got you into thinking about something as
dreadful as me cheating on you? Do you have any idea how demeaned
and humiliated it made me feel? What do you take me for, Maxwell,
some kind of a slut or something?’
There was a moment when Maxwell was tempted to say he knew
that feeling too well, because he felt the same way each time he lay
in bed beside her, and each morning when he woke up next to her.
For him the feeling was reprehensible, and shameful. ‘I guess it’s this
insecurity I have each time you go away on your business trips. It leaves
me confused and unhappy and in the end I don’t know myself anymore.
I just can’t shake this strange feeling that someone might snatch you
away from me while you are out there. I love you so much, Mandy.
More than you can imagine. I don’t want to lose you over anything. My
life would be meaningless without you.’ He sounded so sincere.
While he was speaking, Mandy listened attentively without inter
rupting him. She searched his face closely as if expecting to see some
31
lie written in the middle of his forehead. Only when he had finished
all he had to say did she realise that he was genuinely remorseful. His
words had the magical power to soften her up. Her anger dissolved;
she reached out and touched his hand. ‘You’re not going to lose me,
sweetheart. You know I love you too. But you have to understand that
my job is just as important to me as yours is to you. We cannot carry
on like this if there is no trust between us. What kind of marriage ever
survives without that?’
‘I suppose you’re right. It will never happen again. Now, am I
forgiven?’ he asked, holding his breath.
She did not answer immediately. After a brief moment of indecision,
she nestled her head under his shoulder and said, ‘Only if you promise
me that it will never ever happen again.’
‘I promise, honey. I swear by my father’s grave. Peace?’
‘Peace.’ She was looking up at him, eyes glistening with renewed
adoration for him. She reached out and hooked her baby finger into
his, as they always did when they made up.
Maxwell slumped his shoulders forward as an enormous feeling of
relief washed over him, thinking secretly: It was not as difficult as I had
thought to bring her around. A delightful tiny smile lit up his solemn
face. Suddenly the mood in the bedroom changed. The cloud that had
overshadowed them dissolved. And when he pulled her tenderly into
his arms, she felt too helpless to push him away.
She flung her arms around his neck. All things aside, she loved her
husband dearly, more deeply now than before. She thought to herself:
If trust has gone, what does that matter after all, in the affectionate
intimacy of a good marriage?
Their faces were close, noses almost touching, as they continued to
gaze into each other’s eyes. The blazing passion was undeniably there,
shining through their eyes. He was breathing softly onto her face. His
breath smelt of fresh nicotine. Much as she hated to admit it to herself,
she thought it was spicy. Suddenly she felt a painful ache for him. Never
had she ached for him as she did at that moment.
The feeling was mutual. He whispered in her ear. ‘I want you so
much, Mandy Richardson. Please ... make love to me. Right now, this
32
A WOMAN WRONGED
minute.’ His hands slid down to her breasts and cupped them, his
mouth searching for hers.
It was his voice, more than anything else, that could turn her on.
There was something about its tone, with its streak of coarseness, that
she found irresistibly striking and sexy. ‘I want you too, sweetheart,’
she replied softly, her body arching to his. When his hands started to
explore her body she could feel her insides starting to melt as if she
had just been set alight. His strong hands slithered down her belly to
the moistness between her legs; she felt a thousand crackers exploding
inside her. Her yearning for him was excessive, overpowering. They
began to kiss. When she felt how much he needed her, she yielded
her body to him. And when he finally entered her she groaned with
pleasure.
They made love over and over again. Each time was a rapture that
was almost unbearable. It was as if they were discovering each other
for the first time. In the interludes between their lovemaking, he held
her tightly to him, not wanting to let go of her. Afterwards, they lay
spent in each other’s arms, silent, neither of them wanting to talk as
they allowed their breathing to settle gradually. His face was resting on
her bare chest.
Their lovemaking had been completely different. Mandy thought
he had brought to it some new techniques, some new flair, excitement
that had never been there before. She let wild thoughts run away with
her. It was as if someone had been teaching him what to do, showing
him how to do it. But who? Was it her imagination, or ... she was unable
to finish the sentence. Her thoughts made her uneasy. She fought to
banish them from her mind, while reproaching herself: Could I not just
smirk in the satisfaction that my husband has just given me the best
sex ever? What woman would not triumph in that? And besides, had I
not heard before that sex within marriage blossoms like a flower over
the years? From the look of things, ours is just beginning to blossom
after ten years of marriage.
She stroked his hair gently. Without warning, the ache for him
returned. When she could not control it, she flung her leg over his
naked body and drew him closer to her. He knew she wanted him and
33
shifted his position to take her in his arms. But suddenly, he arched his
back tightly and let out a small anguished cry.
‘Is something wrong, sweetheart?’ she asked, worried.
‘I have this tension in my back ...’ He grasped her finger and pointed
it somewhere down his spine where he thought it was sore.
Mandy smiled inwardly. Two things were possible: he had genuinely
pulled a muscle – their lovemaking had been ferocious and wild, much
too wild – or he was faking it just so she would give him the massage
she had promised him before their bickering. Without hesitating, she
rolled onto her side and pulled a bottle of massage lotion from her
bedside drawer. ‘Let me take care of it,’ she said as she squeezed the
lotion into the palms of her hands. With gentle circular strokes, she
began to rub the area he had shown her.
‘Is it here where it’s sore?’
‘No, lower down, a little to the right. That’s it,’ he said.
When the tight knots in his back began to soften up and relax, he
let out a soft groan of pleasure, asking, ‘Do they also give you such
lessons at work?’ His sense of humour was incredible.
‘Don’t be silly!’ she gave his back a shove with a clenched fist. They
were both in a surprisingly cheerful mood, all bubbly and fondly. They
made love again.
Long after Maxwell had fallen into a sated sleep Mandy remained
awake, listening to his soft snoring and recalling the events of the
evening. She beamed at his sleeping form. He could so easily lose
control of his temper, yet he possessed some innocence in repose as
if he was a baby nestled in its mother’s warm arms. And she could
not help but notice how handsome he really was, with his delicate
face and those dark blue eyes that seemed to make anyone melt inside
with adoration for him. In the ten years they had been married, he did
not seem to have aged a day. An uncontrolled rush of jealousy came
over her. She thought of his female colleagues at the law firm and had
no doubt that they too were aware of his good looks. But she drew
comfort from the fact that he was a one-woman man. He had his eyes
set on her, and her alone. When drowsiness started to creep over her,
34
A WOMAN WRONGED
she leaned over his sleeping form and switched off the lamp. There was
a content smile on her lips as she slowly drifted off to sleep.
Maxwell was up first in the morning. He was an early riser, getting
up before 6 a.m. His spirits were high. For the first time in days he had
slept peacefully and right through the night. He was whistling happily
under his breath as he prepared the tea tray in the kitchen.
Mandy’s eyes opened. Still drowsy with sleep, she discovered
immediately that her husband was not in bed beside her. She knew
without having to check the clock that it was already past six. Slowly
she rolled over to his side of bed, feeling with her hand the warmth on
the pillow and sheet where he had been lying, and relishing the odour
of his body.
At the sound of the door creaking open she looked up. And there he
was at the doorway, a tray of coffee in his hands. A stunned expression
sprang to her face. If her memory served her well, which it did, she
could not recall a time when Maxwell brought her coffee in bed. She
was greatly moved by the effort he was taking to make things right
between them, an act most men would perceive as a sign of weakness.
But she loved him more for that anyway.
A towel was wrapped around his waist, his hair a damp tangle. He
had just taken a shower. Mandy could smell his cologne and the fresh
shaving cream from as far as the door. His torso was bare, revealing his
strong muscles. Once again, she felt wet between her legs.
Her face flushed red. She knew that by the sudden rush of warm
blood up the back of her neck to her face. So embarrassed was she that
she immediately covered her cheeks with her hands so he would not
notice.
‘I thought you could do with a cup of coffee,’ he said as he placed
the tray on the bedside table and bent over to plant a kiss on her lips.
‘That was so thoughtful of you. Thank you, sweetheart.’
He walked to the window and yanked open the curtains and the
windows. A spurt of cold fresh morning air poured in. He poked his
head out and breathed the crispy air into his lungs. The sun had not yet
had the grace to appear in the sky. It was hidden somewhere between
35
the dark rainclouds that had been gathering all through the night,
menacing the sky.
Maxwell sulked as his eyes shifted to rest on the unkempt garden
below. It was the beginning of spring. The trees were loaded with
flowers. Some of them had fallen onto the grass and were scattered by
the wind all over the place.
‘The garden looks quite untidy,’ he mumbled, as if talking to
himself.
‘You’d better attend to it over the weekend. Lately you’ve been
so consumed with your work that you haven’t given it more than a
passing thought.’
‘I guess you’re right. I’ll mow the whole yard while I’m at it.
Hopefully it will help me to cut down a few pounds.’
Mandy was propped up on the pillows, watching him as he stepped
away from the window and switched on the radio on the mantelpiece.
The dreary voice of the weather man came on, predicting torrential
showers of rain. It was going to be a wet week. He poured their coffee.
It smelt wonderful. ‘How do you take yours?’ He had to ask since it was
his first time at it.
‘Black, with two teaspoons of sugar,’ she replied, yawning and
stretching pleasurably.
He held out a mug to her and took a mouthful of the coffee. It
tasted good. He came to sit on the edge of the bed beside her with his
steaming mug in his hand, one leg elegantly crossed over the other.
For a while they sipped their coffee in silence, both revelling in the
caffeine. Hardly a word was spoken about the previous night’s fight.
It was forgotten and buried and never to be broached again. As they
finished their coffee he got amorous with her again. They snuggled
back into bed and pulled the bedcovers over their heads. After all, she
had three hours to get to the airport.
An hour later she had bathed and washed her hair, and was taking
care of her make-up while deciding what to wear. She pulled a grey suit
from her wardrobe, its skirt cut fashionably high above the knees. She
laid it neatly on the bed and returned to the closet to find a matching
blouse. When she couldn’t decide, she asked her husband’s opinion.
36
A WOMAN WRONGED
He had excellent taste in colours, and often helped her to match her
clothes.
‘What colour blouse do you think would go well with this suit,
sweetheart?’ she asked him.
He pulled out her peach blouse. As she put it on, she found herself
smiling openly, wondering why she didn’t think of it. It matched
her suit so well. When she walked away from the mirror, she caught
Maxwell looking her up and down with nothing but admiration in his
eyes.
‘That suit looks splendid on you, love.’
She was glad he liked it. A friend at work had helped her to pick it.
Seconds later he was carrying her heavy bags on his shoulders,
staggering as he walked her to the car.
As was her habit each time she had to go away on business, Mandy
read him the to-do list for Danny. She was a particular woman who
liked things to be done in a particular manner. ‘Remember to give
Danny a good bath before dinner, and ...’ Her voice trailed as Maxwell
interjected. He could not let her go on with the list. She had read it to
him too many times before. He finished it for her with such speed that
he barely paused for breath between the sentences. ‘Never give the boy
ice cream before his meals, no junk food for dinner, get him to brush
his teeth before going to bed, tuck him in and read him a bedside story,
prepare his lunch box and leave it in the fridge before going to bed, and
get him to school on time.’
He grinned. ‘Did I leave anything out, honey?’
She nudged his shoulder with a closed fist. ‘This is not funny,
Maxwell.’
He waited until she was sitting on the driver’s seat before he poked
his head through the open driver’s window and watched as she turned
the key. ‘You take care of yourself, honey, and call me as soon as you
get there,’ he said quickly and turned to walk away. But she called him
back.
‘Aren’t you forgetting something, sweetheart?’
He walked back to her, smiling sheepishly, and kissed her full lips.
‘I love you so much, baby.’
37
‘I love you more, Maxwell. And take care of yourself too, and
Danny. I’ll be back before you know it.’
At seven thirty in the morning it was dark outside, almost as if
it was still night-time. The dark clouds of rain were looming in the
sky. Mandy had not been driving for longer than ten minutes when
the rain began plopping down and slashing at the windows. Soon, a
heavy vapour was collecting on the windscreen, forming a thick veil
and making it difficult for her to see the road ahead clearly. For a
long stretch she strained her eyes to focus, clasping the steering wheel
tightly with both her hands, head and shoulders hunched forward like
a teenager learning to drive for the first time.
From a distance she heard thunder clatter loudly, as lightning
flashed intermittently and lit up the sky. Suddenly she wished she was
not alone in the car, that Maxwell was there with her and driving the
car for her. She was clutching the steering wheel so tightly that her
knuckles began to turn pale. Her worst fear was losing control of the car
on a wet slippery road. The newsreader on the radio was not making
it any better for her. All that he seemed to report was how dangerous
the roads were becoming as the water level continued to rise. He was
sternly warning all motorists to drive slowly and with great caution.
Mandy flipped channels, searching for something to amuse her. But
all she could hear was the continuing horrid news about the flipping
thunderstorm. In the end she turned on the CD player and listened to
music.
It was not that she was frightened of the rain or strong winds – she
was afraid of lightning, more than anything else. Each time it struck
she felt a compelling urge to let go of the steering wheel and clasp her
hands over her ears, to block it all out. There was nothing else to do
but drive on.
As the thunder and lightning continued to rumble and flash before
her, some of her childhood memories came flooding back. On rainy
nights she would crawl to her parents’ bedroom with a torch in her
hand and sneak into bed between them. Her mother would wrap her
arms protectively around her, hiding her frightened face between her
38
A WOMAN WRONGED
breasts. When she awoke in the morning she would recoil with shame,
unable to look them in the face.
It was at that instant that she realised she had not talked to her
parents for a long while. She made a mental note to call them when
she arrived at the hotel. She missed them deeply and thought with a
pang how nice it would be if they would come for a visit, even just
for a weekend. It would put a smile on Danny’s face. He adored them,
more because they allowed him to do whatever he wanted and gave
him anything he asked them: typical of proud grandparents.
By the time she reached the airport, the thunderous rain was full-
blown. She was all edgy and jumpy. She was lucky to spot a luggage
trolley next to where she had just parked the car. As she stepped out to
open the boot, she checked her watch: eight thirty. She let out a loud
gasp. She had been stuck in slow-moving traffic for a full hour, and her
flight was boarding in the next thirty minutes! Her heart gave a little
leap as she thought of the long queues at the check-in counters. Would
she make it on time without missing her flight? And what if she had to
go on standby and they could not find a seat for her on the next flight,
or the one after that?
She thought of her boss and a cold chill ran up her spine. He would
completely flip out if she missed her flight and her million-dollar
meeting. Fear engulfed her. She was almost running as she pushed her
way through the crowded airport.
Once, she bumped her trolley against an elderly man’s heel and
watched as he jumped with excruciating pain. The old man turned
and glared at her. She almost swore he wanted to squeeze his frail
hands around her throat and throttle her. She apologised guiltily with
a slight nod of her head and made a point of steering the trolley more
considerately.
When at last she checked her luggage in at the counter, she breathed
an enormous sigh of relief. A cheerful teller advised her to hurry up
before the boarding gates closed. She thanked her and made a dash
for the boarding entrance, her laptop bag hanging heavily on her arm.
As she approached the boarding gate, she became dimly aware of
the intercom buzzing her name and announcing that she was the last
39
passenger waited upon to board her flight. She was urged to report
at Gate 18 instead of Gate 4. She barely stifled a fretful scream – this
meant changing her course completely and heading up another flight
of stairs. By the time she stepped onto the plane, she was breathing
heavily. As soon as she had settled in her seat, she shut her eyes and
said a silent prayer. She’d made her flight.
An eye-catching female flight attendant appeared before them to
demonstrate safety regulations. Very few passengers paid attention.
She watched with half her mind, while the other half was busy texting
a message to Maxwell. They were in the habit of texting one another
in between their busy work schedules, daft messages that cheered each
other up.
Love you lots, Maxie. I’ll be thinking of you the entire week.
Within seconds, and at the precise moment when it was announced
that all mobile phones be switched off, Maxwell replied.
Love u too, honey. Remember to hug the pillow for me each night. My
bed will be cold without you, baby.
Mandy switched the phone off and hugged it to her heart. As the
enormous Airbus raced down the runway and leapt off the ground into
the air, she reclined in her seat, smiling to herself. Already she was
missing her husband and her son.
40
CHAPTER THREE
On a Thursday morning, one week after Mandy had returned from

her business trip, she stood at the open window of her office with arms
folded over her chest, relishing the cool breeze from outside. The sun
was high in the sky. It was hotter than it had been all year.
The temperature inside was soaring, enveloping the building in
a vaporous veil. The air seemed to simmer and undulate, making it
difficult for everyone inside the offices to breathe. For the past hour and
a half, electricians had been working tirelessly on the air conditioners,
frantically trying to fix them before anyone collapsed.
Mandy was thinking about the telephone conversation she had just
had with her friend, Sharon Madison. Sharon’s husband, Robert, was
one of Maxwell’s colleagues, also an advocate. She had called to ask
if Mandy could let Danny sleep over at their place and share in the
surprise birthday party she was planning for her twin boys.
At first Mandy did not think it was a good idea as Danny had to go
to school the next day. But Sharon had assured her that since the boys
all went to the same school, she would bundle them all into one car and
drop them off. In the end, Mandy had given in.
41
An idea came to her as she continued to look out the window, up

at the clear blue sky. With Danny away for the night, she could well
surprise her husband with a romantic candle-lit dinner, and the rest ...
ooh ... would take care of itself. They might not even wait to reach the
bedroom.
By lunchtime, she found she could no longer focus on her job. The
more she considered the romantic dinner, the more her concentration
drifted away from her work. As soon as she finished compiling the
month-end sales report for her boss, she knew it was time to call
it a day. No sooner had she e-mailed it to him than she cleared her
desk, grabbed her briefcase and locked her office on her way out. A
minute later, she had her head stuck through her boss’s half-open
door, announcing that she was leaving the office for the rest of the day.
Recognising the hard work that Mandy had been putting in lately, her
boss dismissed her with a gentle nod of his head and a wide grin on
his face.
It was not long before she was racing in unusually busy afternoon
traffic to fetch Danny from school. When they arrived home, she
quickly helped him to change into his casual clothes, packed his
overnight bag and bundled him back into the car, eager to drop him
off at Sharon’s and get back home to prepare dinner.
The long drive out of their neighbourhood toward town was
done in silence. Mandy was deep in thought. Since Danny was born,
she could not remember the last time she and Maxwell had spent a
romantic evening all by themselves. And now that it was finally going
to happen, the prospect filled her with mounting anticipation. She
was even considering stopping at one of the stores to buy something
sexy to wear. She let the temptation slip. Her husband would admire
her regardless of what she picked from her wardrobe. And who knew
what might happen once he arrived home. They might decide to have
their dinner half nude! Some couples do it; it fires up the romantic
atmosphere and makes them discover each other all over again.
Downtown, as they drove past a chain of stores, Danny made a
casual remark about the twins’ birthday presents. Mandy flung her
hand to her mouth. It had completely slipped her mind. For a while
42
A WOMAN WRONGED
she drove the streets, until she spotted a familiar gift shop. Her car
screeched to a stop a few yards across from the store entrance. A second
later she was holding Danny’s hand as they crossed the busy street.
When they emerged from the store, they were carrying heavy bags
full of presents. Danny had managed to twist his mother’s arm. He’d
got her to buy him a TV game his friends had been talking about. He
had a way of being able to do that to her. He wore a contented smile as
he flopped on the passenger seat next to her.
At three-fifteen, Mandy was back in her kitchen. A pink floral
apron was wrapped around her tiny waist. Pots of vegetables were
simmering on the stove while she peeled the potatoes and stuffed the
chicken for a bake in the oven. Later, when the food was ready, she left
it in the warmer, laid the dinner table, and rushed upstairs to take her
bath.
She took just over thirty minutes to bathe and brush her hair,
and then spent the last remaining moments searching her closet for
something delicate to wear, something that would accentuate her
looks. She selected a black tight-fitting summer dress cut a few inches
below her knees. The neckline dipped over her breasts to expose her
exquisite cleavage. The contrast with her long black shiny hair was
stunning. There was only one word to describe her – gorgeous. Secretly
she wondered what Maxwell would say when he saw her.
She stepped out of the bedroom wearing matching black high-
heeled shoes, walking like a model on a runway with one foot before the
other, hips elegantly twisting. And she felt like a model too. Dazzling
gold earrings dangled from her ears and along the length of her neck,
almost touching her clavicles.
As she slowly made her way down the stairs, she checked the
time: a minute before six o’ clock. Her husband would be home any
time. With excitement mounting inside her, she hastened to light the
candles on the dinner table. When she remembered the wine in the
refrigerator, she brought it out and placed it at the centre of the table
in an ice- bucket.
She took a few moments to look around; satisfied that everything
was all set, she walked to the living room and stood before the open
43
window, looking out at the driveway and patiently waiting for her
husband to arrive. She was smiling openly, thinking, if only he knew
what was waiting for him! It was going to be the most pleasant evening,
one they would never forget.
At six thirty, when he had not yet arrived home, Mandy was
tempted to call his mobile phone, but decided against it. It would spoil
the whole surprise. At eight o’ clock, when he still had not arrived, she
started to worry. She paced the living room floor with the phone in her
hand. When her patience finally snapped, she dialled his number. But
his mobile was switched off; she left a message.
By nine o’ clock, she had left more than ten messages for him,
and not a single one was returned. Thirty minutes later she had given
up all hope of Maxwell ever arriving home for dinner. Her appetite
suddenly slipped out of her. Disappointed, she walked to the dining
room and blew out the candles, shuffled the food into the refrigerator,
and switched off all the lights on her way to the bedroom.
For a long while she sat up in bed and willed herself to keep awake,
at least until her husband arrived home. He had a lot of explaining
to do. Each time she heard the sound of an approaching car with its
headlights shining through the curtains, she leapt out of bed to peep
at the window, hoping and praying that it was her husband coming up
their driveway. And each time she would return to bed, feeling more
and more let down.
As the clock ticked and the minutes and hours passed, it became
apparent that Maxwell was not coming home. A hundred uninvited
thoughts invaded her mind. She began shifting restlessly in bed: what
if an accident had happened on his way home and he’d been taken to
hospital in a critical state? What if he’d been hijacked and hurt, and
was lying somewhere out there in the cold and calling for help with no
one to hear him?
Driven by fear and panic, she grabbed the phone and began dialling
the number of every hospital in town. She was given one and the same
answer, that there was no one by the name of Maxwell Richardson in
their casualty registers. When the clock struck eleven, she found she
was losing what was left of her mind. On an impulse, she dialled the
44
A WOMAN WRONGED
number for the morgue. But she stopped abruptly when the realisation
hit her that she was acting quite strangely. There was no way that her
husband was lying on some trolley in a cold fridge, his life having
ebbed away from him.
At midnight, when she still could not fall asleep, a disturbing
thought struck her. Perhaps he had met someone else, a young pretty
woman, more sexually appealing than her, and was now with her in
a hotel room somewhere where he knew he ran no risk of anyone
recognising him. The thought sent a chill up the back of her neck. Her
whole body shivered, despite the hot weather.
For a while she fought to rid herself of the troubling thought. One
thing was certain: she knew her husband too well, and trusted him. He
would never look at another woman, at least not in the way of love. In
the years since their marriage, he had never so much as hinted at doing
any such thing. They had a good marriage, a solid partnership.
When eventually her eyelids began to feel heavy, she could no
longer fight to keep awake. Against her will she drifted into a dead-
beat sleep. If what she had been waiting for happened, it would wake
her up, all right.
Her sleep was interrupted by the strident ringing of the telephone.
She awoke with a start, eyes still bleary with sleep. Without thinking,
she placed a groping hand on the pillow beside her, hoping to feel her
husband’s sleeping form. But the pillow lay cold and empty. He was not
there in bed with her. Her heart sank to the bottom of her feet. How
could he do this to me? How could he not come home to me? Where
had he spent the night, and with whom?
She lifted herself onto her elbows and looked across at the clock. She
gasped: it was six-thirty, time to get ready for work. She felt miserable
and desperately yearned for a few more hours of sleep. The phone kept
ringing but she consciously ignored it, pulling the bedclothes over her
head as she tried to get back to sleep. Whoever was calling the house
seemed to have no intention of giving up. In the end, she surfaced from
under the covers and angrily grabbed the receiver. She was filled with
mixed emotions. She was scared to death at what might have happened
to Maxwell, but felt mounting resentment at the thought that he might
45
actually have spent the night with some other woman. Why else did he
not come home, and not even bother to return her endless messages?
The bright light from outside was penetrating the thick curtains.
It seemed like a clear sunny day, for a change. She yawned miserably,
then answered the phone, her voice dreary and lifeless. Could it be the
police? Had they found Maxwell hurt? Was he alive? Apprehension
gripped her. Her heart began to pound hard in her ears, like distant
thunder.
‘Oh. Hello Mandy. This is Robert.’ Hearing her catch her breath,
he rushed to set her mind at ease. ‘Don’t worry, love, Danny is all
right with us. He had great fun with the twins last night. It’s Maxwell
I urgently need to talk to. It’s about our court case this morning. Can
you put him on the phone for me?’ He was sounding desperate, and
talking hurriedly.
Mandy was silent for a long moment as she allowed herself to
recover from her initial fright. And then she said, ‘I’m afraid Maxwell
is not here in bed with me.’
He coughed to clear his throat as he always did when they chatted
on the phone. ‘Is he taking a shower already? I can call him back in a
few minutes. This is very urgent, Mandy.’
Mandy hesitated for a second. She knew Robert way too well. When
he demanded something, he was determined to get it. She might as
well be open with him. After all, there had never been secrets between
them. He was like the brother she never had. Her voice was flat and
filled with sadness. ‘He didn’t come home last night, Robert.’
He gasped like a fish out of water. ‘He did what?’ he asked, making
no attempt to conceal his surprise.
‘I had a surprise romantic dinner prepared for us and he just didn’t
turn up, Robbie.’ Her eyes darkened with sorrow as she spoke.
‘Did he say where he was spending the night, and why?’
Mandy shook her head, as though he was able to see her over
the phone. ‘I’m worried sick, Robert. I honestly don’t know what to
make of this. He’s not one to sleep out for no reason. I left him endless
messages on his phone and he hasn’t called me back.’
‘Have you two been fighting, love?’ he asked, worried. He was not
46
A WOMAN WRONGED
afraid of asking questions, and he expected answers. In many ways, he

reminded her of Maxwell.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat with her head
tilted to one side, resting firmly on the receiver. ‘We had a bit of an
argument, about a week ago.’ She felt ill at ease immediately after saying
it. To reassure him, she added, ‘But it was nothing really ... something
very petty and stupid.’
‘Do you want to tell me about it, love?’ he asked in a brotherly tone.
His voice was so soothing that Mandy began to feel her shoulders
relax. She blinked back the tears that were threatening to form
underneath her eyelids. ‘It was about my business trips. He accused
me of enjoying being away from home, and insinuated that I cheat on
him on those trips.’
‘That was ruthless of him, Mandy, to even suggest anything like
that about you ... I’m sorry to hear that, love. I may have to take it up
with him when we meet. Everyone who knows you knows that you’re
an honourable woman. Maxwell has no idea how many men would
jump at the opportunity of having you as a wife.’
Mandy thought that was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to
her. Despite her dampened emotions, a broad smile appeared on her
face. Miraculously, it lit up her heart.
Robert was silent for a moment, recalled the first time Maxwell had
introduced him to Mandy just over ten years ago. She did not seem to
him the kind of woman who could be disloyal to her husband. She had
that aura of innocence and decency about her that had caused him to
take an instant liking to her. He broke the silence. ‘You sound like you
haven’t had much sleep. Why don’t you take my advice and call in sick
at work, only for today?’
Mandy pondered the idea for a short while, thinking how won
derful it would be to stay home in bed and let everything that was
happening sink in. She knew she was feeling miserable and dejected
and hated the thought of walking around the office in this state. People
talked, especially their nosy and inquisitive receptionist. Nothing ever
got past her in the building. She spent more time gossiping about
everything and everyone than carrying out the job she was hired to
47
do. Her resentment rose inside her. If she had her way, she would have
given the receptionist the boot a long time ago.
‘Are you still there, Mandy?’
‘I wish I could stay home, Robbie, but I can’t. I have a sales
presentation before the board of directors at nine o’ clock.’ Even as she
said it, she wondered hopelessly how she was going to get through the
meeting, and the rest of the day. Every nerve in her body was frayed.
‘That sounds serious. In that case, take a few moments for some
strong black coffee with your breakfast, and rehearse the presentation.
In the meantime, I’ll make a few phone calls and see if I can get hold
of Maxwell. Until then, remain calm and act as though nothing is
happening, do you hear me, love?’
‘I’ll do exactly that, Robbie.’ There was a sharp click, and the line
went dead.
For what seemed like hours, Mandy clutched the receiver in her
hand, reluctant to replace it. Unwillingly, she smiled as she thought
about her conversation with Robert. He could exert authority and be
instantly obeyed. It was one of the qualities she loved and admired
about him. But he also had a glorious sense of humour. For a split
second, her heart swelled with envy for his wife, Sharon. She had the
best husband in the world.
Suddenly she felt a pang of homesickness. She yearned for her
mother’s nearness and her hug, but she was far away on the other side
of town. When tears began to collect again in her eyes, she bit down on
her bottom lip and fought them back.
Her mouth was dry. She wished someone would bring her a
steaming cup of coffee in bed. As the yearning for it intensified, she
got out of bed, put on her bathrobe and reached under the bed for
her slippers. A sudden sharp, excruciating pain in her head jerked her,
causing her to slump back onto the pillows. It felt as if someone was
hammering nails into the insides of her skull.
She lay on her back with her eyes tightly shut. When the pain
persisted, she pressed the tips of her fingers onto her temples and
began moving them in gentle circles. But the pain would not go away.
It seemed as though nothing would make it dissipate.
48
A WOMAN WRONGED
She remembered the pain tablets she kept in her small medicine
box in one of the kitchen drawers. She got out of bed again, slowly this
time, and walked barefoot down the stairs to the kitchen. She found
the tablets, sighed with relief, and immediately flushed them down
her throat with a glass of water. For a long while she sat quietly at the
kitchen table, listening to her head as it continued to throb against her
temples. When the ache began to quieten down, she filled the kettle
and plucked it on. While waiting for the water to boil, she took Robert’s
advice and began pacing the kitchen floor, rehearsing her presentation
aloud. Later as she was sipping her steaming coffee, she felt a sensation
she had not felt for hours – a teeny appetite. Her last meal had been the
previous day at the office, a small toasted-ham sandwich.
She pulled out two slices of bread from the bread bin, toasted
them and spread peanut butter over them. That was her son’s favourite
sandwich. She took a hungry bite, and flushed it down with coffee while
pacing the floor. It tasted good. She smiled as she thought of Danny.
He would have said, ‘Mummy, you can’t eat while you’re walking.’ She
realised at that instant just how much she was missing him. It felt as
though he had been away from home for weeks, not just one night.
Suddenly she had a strong urge to puke. Her appetite ebbed away.
She threw the unfinished sandwich on the table, finished her coffee
and poured herself another cup. When she had finished rehearsing her
presentation, she hurried back upstairs to take a bath. The caffeine in
the coffee was bringing some life back to her. The throbbing in her
head had astoundingly dissolved.
In the bathroom, she caught her reflection in the mirror. She drew
closer to have a good look and could not hide her shock at her horrid
appearance. She looked 50, not 35 – frail, her eyes pulled deep into
their sockets. It seemed as if she had aged overnight. She felt sorry
for herself and turned abruptly away from the mirror. With her spirits
dampened, she ran a full bubble bath and soaked herself in it, wasting
away time she did not have.
Halfway through her bath, the telephone rang. She was startled,
water trickling down her face from her soaking hair. She mopped it
49
with a towel and picked up the bathroom extension, wondering if it

was Robert calling and if he had managed to locate Maxwell.
‘Hello?’ she answered despondently, then held her breath.
‘Hello Mandy, it’s me ... mother.’
Her eyes rolled up to stare at the ceiling. She was not surprised that
her mother was calling her. She always phoned precisely when Mandy
was at the lowest of her lows, in a dark tunnel, unable to see a light at
the end of it. It was as if her mother had psychic powers and could
read everything that was happening around her from a far distance. It
scared her sometimes.
‘Oh. Hello mother,’ she replied, forcing a cheerful tone.
‘Am I so glad to hear your voice, baby girl. And what a relief! All
through the night I slept with half of my brain awake, worried sick
about you.’
Mandy smiled inwardly. Her mother was right about her, as always.
She did possess psychic powers. She said ironically, ‘I guess you had a
premonition that something bad had happened to me, mother.’
‘That’s exactly why I’m calling you. Are you all right, sweetheart?’
For one flickering second, Mandy was tempted to open up her
heart and confide in her mother. She wanted to let her know that
she was feeling lonely in her marriage, and that her husband had not
slept at home or even bothered to call her and let her know where he
was. But she let the temptation pass. Some sixth sense told her it was
too early to say anything. She hated her parents knowing what was
happening in her household until she’d had time to deal with it. Or so
she thought. Besides, she knew her mother would not hesitate to take
the next flight to the city and spend days fretting over her while getting
on Maxwell’s nerves.
Mandy said brightly, ‘You’ve worried yourself over nothing,
mother. I am all right, really. I was just having a bath and am rushing
through to get to work. I’m late as it is. I have a presentation in the next
hour and a half.’
There was a pause. ‘In that case, let me not keep you. If ever there’s
anything you want to talk to me about, please don’t hesitate to call me.
I’ll always be here for you. You know that, don’t you, baby?’
50
A WOMAN WRONGED
Mandy smiled inwardly again. ‘You don’t have to remind me,

mother. I know. And I appreciate it.’
‘Now, run along and get yourself ready for your meeting. I love you
very much, baby.’
‘I love you too, mother. Tell daddy I love him.’
There was no more time to waste. She leapt out of the bath and
dried herself. She was almost running as she made for her bedroom
and straight to her wardrobe, wondering what to wear. She had wasted
more than forty minutes in the bathroom. Her darting eyes picked out
a black trouser suit. She pulled it from the rail and matched it with a
striped grey blouse that she knew revealed an inch of her cleavage. If it
was boobs men liked to see ... she might as well oblige!
She took some time studying her reflection as she applied her
make-up. When eventually she walked away from the mirror, she
smirked in the satisfaction that she looked radiant again.
Once she was at work, the morning hours passed in a flurry of
activities. Her presentation to the board members went without a
hitch. Her strategy to increase the sales margins by thirty per cent in
the last quarter of the year was approved by the board with thumbs up
and nodding heads. She was elated. And so were her two partners, Tom
and Henry. Both felt they had every cause to celebrate. At midday, the
two men showed up in her office, their faces beaming with triumph.
‘I know of the best restaurant downtown. What do you say we all
go there and celebrate?’ Henry asked, looking first at Mandy and then
at Tom.
‘What are we waiting for? Come on, Mandy.’ Tom was pulling her
arm and dragging her off her chair.
Mandy hesitated. With her husband apparently missing, she was
in no mood for celebration. But she hated to disappoint her partners.
They were two important men in her life, her best friends, and she
could not blame them for not being aware of how wretched she was
feeling inside. She grabbed her bag and followed them down the
narrow passage leading to the elevators. It was not long before they
were speeding up the main road with Tom behind the wheel.
All through the drive, the two men kept rumbling on and on about
51
her presentation and how cool and calm she had appeared, but her
mind was not there in the car with them. It was miles away. She stared
bleakly at the road ahead, saying a silent prayer and asking God to keep
her husband safe, wherever he was.
As they turned towards the restaurant, Mandy remembered to
switch on her mobile phone. There was a text message from Robert: I
am with Maxwell in court. He will call you later to explain himself.
Her face hardened. She hissed under her breath, ‘He’d better have
a good explanation for where he spent the night.’ She caught Tom
stealing a quick glimpse at her when he thought she would not notice.
She turned her head away and looked out the side window, not wanting
him to see the desolation on her face.
52
CHAPTER FOUR
The restaurant was packed. At that hour of the day, everyone seemed
to have flocked in to grab something to eat. It seemed a grand place,
where workers from the offices in the area gathered to socialise over
a good meal, just to get their minds off work. There was a long queue
at the door with people waiting to be shown to their tables. As the
minutes ticked by and it seemed that they were never going to get a
table, Mandy began to feel weary from all the standing. Her feet ached
in her shoes. When at last they were shown to their table, she heaved
a deep sigh. They had a table at the window, which looked out onto
a beautiful, well-kept garden. There was loud chattering and laughter
from every corner of the restaurant.
Mandy took an instant liking to the restaurant. ‘The place looks
splendid. I’m so glad you suggested eating here,’ she said as she looked
around.
‘And the fish is always excellent here. You must try it,’ said Henry.
A cheerful waitress strolled lazily to their table. She greeted them
heartily and handed them each a menu. Mandy was undecided for a
while, not sure what to order. When she finally made up her mind, she
53
looked at the men and said, ‘As they always say, if you can’t decide, the
only thing to do is to taste everything.’ She ordered a seafood platter
and a glass of wine. The two men ordered the same, with stiff whiskies
on the rocks.
The service was incredible. In just under ten minutes, the waitress
was back with their drinks. But the wine started to hit Mandy hard
on an empty stomach. For a while, as she waited for their meal to
arrive, she willed herself to appear sober and clear-headed, carefully
articulating her words.
The food was predictably delicious. As soon as their plates were
placed before them, Mandy ate to her heart’s content. She finished her
plate so quickly that even Tom remarked it would cause her indigestion
for the rest of the day.
Mandy refused to accept another glass of wine. Later, as the waitress
was clearing the table and they were ordering coffees, Tom gestured
enthusiastically at the entrance.
‘Is that Maxwell at the doorway, or is it his lookalike?’
Maxwell was in the company of a pregnant woman. He appeared
impatient as he waited to be shown to his table, his left foot nervously
tapping the floor and one hand rubbing the side of his face.
The last person Mandy expected to show up at the restaurant was
Maxwell Richardson. When she thought of the terrible ordeal he had
put her through the previous night, anger started to boil inside her. She
fidgeted in her seat, unable to sit still.
‘It’s him, all right. And the woman looks like she could deliver a
baby anytime.’
Henry was meditative as he sat watching Maxwell and his com
panion. The woman reminded him of someone he knew very well, but
he could not place her face. The likeness kept slipping away just when
he thought he had it.
Tom tilted his head to the side to glance at Mandy. ‘Do you have
any idea who she is?’
Mandy shook her head vehemently.
‘Is she perhaps one of Maxwell’s colleagues?’ Tom was asking
insistently.
54
A WOMAN WRONGED
‘I’ve never seen her before, Tommy. I would definitely know if she
was his colleague.’ She knew all her husband’s colleagues, even those
who had recently joined the firm. Once in a while, Maxwell invited
them all to the house for a Sunday afternoon pool party. Over the
years, Mandy had become bosom friends with the wives of some of
Maxwell’s contemporaries.
Something about the woman bothered Mandy. She could not take
her eyes off her, wondering silently how her husband knew her, and
for how long he had known her without bothering to mention her.
But something else disturbed Mandy as she continued to watch the
woman. It was the ease with which she was conversing with Maxwell,
and the gentle manner in which she continued to stare into his eyes as
though she had known him for a very long time.
Tom nudged her with his elbow. ‘Well? What are you waiting for?
Go over and invite them to our table. We have two more seats.’
Mandy remained indecisive for a second and then said, ‘I can’t,
Tom.’
Tom looked at her steadily with penetrating eyes. She was acting
quite strangely, not at all like the self-possessed and composed woman
he had always known. ‘What do you mean, you can’t?’
A lump in her throat prevented her from answering him. She
remained quiet for a short while, finding it more and more difficult to
meet the gaze of the two men. She sat there, looking down at her one
hand while biting the nails of the other, as she always did in difficult
moments.
Tom sensed her edginess instantly. He knew her too well not to
recognise that something was troubling her. He leaned sideways and
put his hand over hers. ‘Something is going on you’re not telling us
about. You know you can talk to us about anything, don’t you, baby?’
‘He didn’t come home last night, Tommy,’ she whispered, as though
she was afraid that the other diners might eavesdrop on her. ‘I was up
almost the entire night worrying about what could have happened to
him. I left endless messages on his mobile, and he never returned any
of them.’
The two men exchanged astonished glances. To them it was in
55
conceivable that someone as honourable as Maxwell could do any such

thing. There had to be a perfect explanation for his sudden behaviour.
‘Don’t be ashamed to talk to us about what’s going on with you and
Maxwell. Have you been having problems lately?’ Henry asked.
Mandy nodded her head, shook it, then nodded again. Henry was
watching her closely, confused. ‘That’s hardly an answer, is it, love?’
‘Well ... every married couple has a little fight once in a while,
which is exactly what we had a week ago. But that’s no excuse for a
man to sleep out without letting his wife know where he is.’
Hardly a word was spoken afterwards as their attention remained
set on Maxwell and his companion, as if they were the only two people
in the restaurant. They did not even notice when the waitress arrived
at the table with their coffee – which soon went cold.
As Maxwell was shown to his table, unaware that he was being
closely watched by three pairs of enquiring eyes, he wrapped his arm
around the woman’s waist and guided her as they walked between the
tables. When they reached their table he stepped forward and pulled
out a chair for her, and then he waited until she had settled into it
before he hastened to take his seat across the table.
Mandy covered her mouth with both her hands. ‘What in the world
is going on with those two? And what’s that hand around her waist for,
the son-of-a-bitch!’ Henry gave her a scornful look, and reproached
her openly. ‘What’s with your attitude today? That’s kind of impolite,
Mandy, and coming from you for that matter!’
‘I didn’t mean to sound rude, but ... that hand around her. Is there
something going on that I’m not aware of?’
Henry was too quick to come to Maxwell’s defence, even though
he himself was struggling to understand what was really happening. ‘I
think you’re blowing this way out of proportion, love. And don’t tell me
you’re jealous of a pregnant woman. He was just being a gentleman, for
heaven’s sake.’ When he saw her open her mouth to object, he added
quickly, ‘I also had my arm wrapped around you when first we walked
in here, remember? And it was quite innocent.’
For an instant Mandy appeared reassured. But there was this strong
instinct inside her, a gut feeling that kept gnawing at her and warning
56
A WOMAN WRONGED
her that something was just not right. Much as she tried to ignore the
instinct, it persisted, refusing to go away until it brought her abruptly
to her feet in outrage. ‘I’m going over there,’ she said, resolved. ‘I need
to know what’s going on. The bastard owes me an explanation! He has
the nerve to show up in a place like this when he hasn’t slept at home
or returned any of my calls!’
An alarm rattled inside Tom’s head. On impulse, he leapt from his
seat and took Mandy by her arm, gently forcing her back into her seat.
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, baby,’ he whispered.
For a while, Mandy wrestled to free her arm. When she realised
Tom was too powerful for her, she surrendered and sat grudgingly back
in her chair. ‘I don’t understand why you’re holding me back, Tom. You
were the one who insisted I go over and invite them to our table.’
‘Well, that was before I knew he hadn’t come home last night. That
changes everything, baby. You can’t afford to lose your temper with
him, and in a crowded place like this ...’
‘Is it his glorious reputation you’re worried about, or do you have
my welfare at heart?’
Tom gestured with one hand while the other continued to tighten
around Mandy’s wrist. ‘Both, I guess.’
Mandy thought she understood how highly Tom regarded Maxwell.
But he was her best friend, and best friends support one another. She
felt frustration rise up inside her. With his hand still gripping hers,
she looked him in the eye and said, ‘I just want to know one thing,
Tommy. If you were in my shoes, would you sit back and not care to
know what’s happening?’ The question caught Tom by surprise. If he
had an answer to that, he would have given it to her. He simply sat
there, staring back at her in desolation. Secretly he wished they had
never showed up at the restaurant.
Mandy waited for his response. When it did not come, she said, ‘I
guessed not! Now, Tommy, will you please let go of my hand?’ There
was a tone of finality in her voice.
Henry had been sitting with his head leaning back on his chair,
quietly listening to them with a thoughtful look on his face. He thought
it wise to interject. He beckoned Tom to let go of her. ‘It’s all right,
57
Tommy. If this is what she really wants to do, we can’t prevent her.’ Tom
obliged, unwillingly. ‘Promise me you won’t do anything you might
regret later? Please, Mandy.’ He was pleading.
Mandy shot him a hearty smile to put him at ease. ‘Don’t worry,
Tom. I’ll be modest about it.’
She rose to her feet and smoothed the creases on her slacks. With
her head held high, she walked gracefully between the tables, smiling
non-committally at the customers as she brushed past them. Her smile
hid the rage that was simmering inside her. Tom and Henry watched
as she disappeared between the tables, transfixed with apprehension.
It was Tom who finally cut into the silence. He looked across at
Henry and asked, ‘In all honesty, what do you make of this?’
‘That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out, Tom. If the woman was
not pregnant I most probably would have jumped to the conclusion
that he was having a fling with her. But she’s obviously some other
man’s wife. This might well be an innocent lunch they’re having.’
But Tom was not fooled. ‘What really worries me most is the fact
that he has never mentioned this woman before. Why the big secrecy?
Unless, of course ... ’
Henry finished for him, ‘Unless, of course, she’s his pregnant
mistress?’
Tom nodded, anxiously wiping the perspiration on his forehead
with the back of his hand. The thought had been burning his throat
and causing him to feel on edge.
‘But would he be so daring as to bring her out to a public place like
this, where he knows he runs the risk of being noticed? For heaven’s
sake, Tommy, Maxwell is smart enough to realise that he’s well known
in this neighbourhood. Someone is bound to recognise him.’
‘I know these predatory women so well. Once they gain a hold
on you, they can very easily manipulate you into doing anything they
want. She’s probably sick and tired of being kept locked in a closet and
is now exerting her authority, making her presence known.’
‘But at the expense of his marriage?’
Tom shrugged. ‘Do you reckon she cares a damn about what
happens to his marriage, or who gets hurt in the process?’
58
A WOMAN WRONGED
‘I just hope to God we’re wrong about him. Mandy wouldn’t be

able to deal with such a thing. She’s not cut out to deal with the pain of
betrayal,’ Henry said, with grim concern for her.
Tom sighed. ‘I hope the same, Henry, for her sake.’
They fell silent, their heads hanging down, their hearts gripped by
looming fear. When the waitress appeared to clear their untouched
cups of coffee, they both ordered stiff shots of whiskey. Their frayed
nerves needed it. None of them knew what Mandy was capable of
when pushed over the edge.
As Mandy approached Maxwell’s table, she felt her whole body
trembling. The courage she’d felt a few seconds earlier had crashed
out as soon as she had acquired it. She wished she’d had enough time
to calm herself. She stuffed her trembling hands in the pockets of her
slacks and took some deep breaths.
Maxwell was in a deep and serious conversation with his com
panion, totally unaware of the attention they had been attracting and
of the cyclone that was about to blow up in his face. He had his legs
stretched idly under the table as if he was sitting in the dining room of
his own house, leaning back, with one arm dangling over the back of
his chair. He held the menu in his other outstretched hand. Something
like a sixth sense caused him to look over the top of the menu. He
caught sight of Mandy taking long strides toward their table, her heels
sounding sharply on the polished wooden floor. The colour drained
from his face. The menu he was clutching slipped and dropped onto
the table. His mind started to race, searching for an alibi.
Mandy was miraculously calm by the time she reached Maxwell’s
table, thanks to the long, deep breaths she’d forced herself to take. She
stared at Maxwell for what seemed a long time, squinting a bit as if it
hurt to do so. And then she shifted her attention to his companion.
It had surprised and disturbed her that the woman seemed quite
young, about ten years her junior. From a distance, she had looked
pretty much Mandy’s age. Mandy noticed too that the woman was
extraordinarily tall with an elegant, slim body, despite her bulging
abdomen. Her long blonde hair was held back elegantly in a ponytail.
59
Her facial features were striking: large brown eyes that would melt
anyone’s heart, and exquisite high cheekbones.
Mandy could not help feeling jealousy stab her. But she drew
comfort from the fact that this woman must be someone’s wife. Henry
had been right. She had no reason to feel jealous of a pregnant woman.
It was silly and childish. Immediately, she gathered herself together.
She had promised Tom that she was going to be modest with Maxwell,
and she intended to keep that promise.
‘Hello Maxwell, how nice to see you. How are you doing today?’
Her voice was calm and cheerful. Instead of returning her greeting,
Maxwell looked up and exclaimed, ‘Mandy! What are you doing here?’
But as soon as the words left his mouth he realised it was a daft thing to
ask. In truth, he was the one who had no right to be there. He wished
he could take back his words.
Mandy fought to keep the rage out of her voice. ‘I was about to
ask you the same question. I didn’t know you took lunch breaks in
restaurants between your court cases. I left hundreds of messages on
your landline and mobile phone last night, but you haven’t returned a
single one. I was worried sick, Maxwell, thinking something bad had
happened to you. Do you want to tell me what’s going on?’ The question
sounded like an accusation. While she waited for his response, she
rolled up the sleeves of her jacket as her insides started to simmer with
heat.
From the corner of her eye, Mandy caught his companion gaping
at her with a stunned expression on her face. Only then did she
realise that she had raised her voice. She looked sideways to see if the
customers at the surrounding tables had noticed. Everyone appeared
deeply engrossed in their own conversations. Relief washed over her.
She made a point of keeping her voice in check when next she spoke.
Words were not coming easily to Maxwell. He remained tight-
lipped, leaning his head back on the chair in a position of utter
helplessness. Although he knew he ought to be coming up with a
believable alibi, he could not think of anything to say. His mind seemed
to have locked itself; the muscles around his mouth were completely
anaesthetised by shock.
60
A WOMAN WRONGED
Mandy stood there, glaring across at him and eagerly waiting to

hear what he had to say for himself. The tension in the air mounted
until it was tangible. When Maxwell still could not utter a word, his
companion thought it wise to come to his rescue, completely unaware
that she was talking to his wife. She looked at Mandy and said, ‘Maxwell
had his mobile switched off the entire night. It had me worried that his
mother might try and call him for some emergency and might not be
able to reach him.’
Mandy caught her breath as if she had just stepped into a cold
shower. First, she looked at the woman, then at Maxwell and back at
the woman again, thinking secretly: What has she just said? Is it my
imagination or does she imply what I think she is implying – that she
spent the night with my husband? A wave of dizziness swept over her.
Her head began to spin. Afraid that she might lose her balance and fall
over, she clutched the side of the table and held on to it. Her senses
were on the alert when she asked, ‘And who are you, missy? I don’t
think we’ve met before. Are you a relative of Maxwell?’ Mandy knew
the answer. When you are married to a man for as long as she’d been,
you get to know every member of his family, even his long-lost cousins.
The woman’s smile was quick and friendly. ‘I’m his fiancée,’ she
replied innocently, and shot an instant glance at Maxwell. There was
such an incredibly passionate look on her face as she gazed at him.
She was completely unaware of the immense damage she was causing.
And as if that was not enough, she reached across the table and took
Maxwell’s hand into hers, her smile widening to light up her face.
But the affectionate gesture was not met with the desired response.
Maxwell pulled back his hand with no drop of kindness in him. His
face was a film of perspiration. He let it drip, too stunned to wipe it off.
Mandy couldn’t believe what she had just heard. ‘Fiancée ... did you
just say you’re Maxwell’s fiancée?’ She almost grabbed the woman by
the collar of her dress, but somehow managed to restrain herself. The
woman nodded. It surprised her that Mandy seemed very unhappy to
learn about her relationship with Maxwell. But then she remembered
what Maxwell once said to her when they first started dating, that his
family and friends were still mourning the death of his wife and would
61
find it difficult to accept her as the new woman in his life. Although
she had found it a little strange, she had nonetheless agreed to remain
in the background to allow them sufficient time to grieve. Secretly, she
hoped that one day they would find it in their hearts to welcome her
into their circle. She cast an upward glance at Mandy and replied, ‘Yes.
We’re engaged to be married.’
What Mandy was hearing was inconceivable. For one second she
thought she might be asleep and having a terrible nightmare. She
wished for someone to pinch her just so she knew she was wide awake
and conscious. She could not pinch herself because that could still be
part of her continuing nightmare. How could this have happened?
How could Maxwell have allowed it to happen? She gave Maxwell a
tormented look and said, ‘There must be some kind of mistake here.
This woman can’t possibly be engaged to you. Please tell me this is not
true. Go ahead ... tell her that it’s not true. Please Maxwell, I’m begging
you.’
But Maxwell was no longer hearing her, or even seeing her. He had
a bleak look on his face, staring helplessly into nothing. His mind was
already in hell. What he was hoping for was for the ground beneath
him to open up and swallow him so that his physical body could
reunite with its mind inside the gates of hell.
The woman did not wait to hear Maxwell’s response. Now that she
had finally come out of the closet, she grasped the moment with both
hands and plunged in. ‘I must apologise, most sincerely. I had no right
to make such an announcement. Maxwell and I had agreed to keep our
relationship private until sufficient time had passed after the death of
his wife.’
Mandy was unable to conceal the shock wave that swept over her.
‘He told you that his wife had passed away?’
The woman nodded her head again. ‘Yes, four and a half years ago.
And may her soul rest in peace.’ Afterwards she made a holy cross on
her chest and took a silent moment staring up at the ceiling as though
saying a little prayer for the woman she would never get to know.
There was a long moment in which it seemed that Mandy was going
to burst out and tell the woman that she was not dead but very much
62
A WOMAN WRONGED
alive, and that Maxwell’s lawful wife of ten years was standing right
there next to her. Her mouth opened but no words would come out. It
was the same awful feeling you experience in a nightmare; you want to
scream for help but the sound will not come out, or you want to run for
your life but your legs will not move. Mandy remained frozen where
she was standing, knowing that if she took one step closer to Maxwell,
she would snap, lose all control, and do what she had been intending
to do all through the hours of the morning: wrap her hands around his
thick neck and throttle him! Just then, a new thought came over her.
It was evident that the mistress had no clue at all that she was talking
to her lover’s wife. If she played her game well and remained calm,
she could get more out of her than her cheating husband would ever
confess. It was not going to be easy, but she was determined to give it
her best shot. He was playing dirty with her; she was determined to
strike back and watch him crumble under his own deceit.
The woman extended her hand and said, ‘My name is Kristal. But
you can call me Kristy. Everyone does.’
Mandy hesitated for a second, then grasped her hand. The feel of
it on her own flesh caused her to shudder inside. Goosebumps broke
all over her skin. It felt as if she had just dipped her hand in a bucket
of corrosive acid. There was a moment, not more than a segment of a
second, when Mandy wanted to puke on her face. But she suppressed
the urge as she recognised that her anger was not so much directed at
her, but to her husband. She was merely a victim of a cheating husband.
She managed a jovial tone. ‘Hello Kristy. My name is Mandy, a long-
time friend of Maxwell.’ She almost gagged on her own lie.
Kristal flaunted a smile. ‘I’m so glad to meet you, Mandy. This is
the first time I’ve got to meet one of Maxwell’s friends.’
Maxwell sank deeper in his chair. He was looking at his mistress
as though he wished he had an axe with which to hack off her head.
The moment he had always feared had finally arrived, and it was his
mistress who was helping to dig the truth out and lay it bare and naked
on the table before his wife.
Mandy popped out her first probing question. ‘If I may ask, Kristy,
how long has your relationship been going on?’
63
Kristal’s answer was quick and short. ‘Four years.’

Mandy made a quick mental calculation: if she had passed away
four and a half years ago, and his affair with his mistress had been going
on for four years, Maxwell would not have given himself sufficient time
to mourn her passing! He was immediately eager to jump into bed
with a slut! Unsuppressed resentment flared up inside her. Nothing had
prepared her for any of this. Suddenly her knees buckled. Not trusting
if they would continue to carry the weight of her body, and without
being invited, she pulled out a chair next to Kristal and slumped into it.
As much as it hurt her, Mandy persisted in the conversation. She
needed to know everything. ‘How far are you, Kristy?’ she said.
A spark of vitality entered Kristal’s eyes. She stretched out her legs
under the table and rubbed a hand over her tummy. ‘I’m due in three
weeks. But the pregnancy is beginning to wear me down. My back is
killing me. You should see my feet in the evenings. They get so swollen
I can’t even put on my slippers.’ And when she thought she had noticed
a look of sympathy on Mandy’s face, she added hastily, ‘I wish I could
ask my doctor to consider a caesarean section and get them out. But
you know how doctors are. They never agree to an elective caesarean
unless there is a strong need for it.’
A sharp pain jerked her. ‘Did I hear you say them?’ Mandy asked.
‘Of course! I didn’t mention it, but we’re expecting twins. Both are
girls.’ She gave Maxwell an affectionate glance. Each of Kristal’s words
stung at Mandy like a bee. The pain went through her skin until it
lodged somewhere in the deepest layer of her soul. Her anguished eyes
rested on Maxwell for what seemed like a full minute. He looked away,
unable to meet her gaze. In the years since their marriage, not once did
he imagine that those eyes would be turned on him in utter repulsion.
Everything that was not supposed to go wrong was going wrong. And
worse still, in full view of the public. It was becoming increasingly
difficult for him to sit still. He began fidgeting with his wrist. There was
nothing that he could do to stop the conversation from continuing,
even if he wanted to. His mistress had already done enough damage.
But the shock on her face did not escape Kristal’s probing eyes.
Immediately, she jumped in to put Mandy’s mind at ease. ‘Maxwell was
64
A WOMAN WRONGED
as shocked as you are when we first found out about the twins. But it
took only a little while to come to terms with it. He’s now helping to
decorate the nursery, even though he’s still not willing to accompany
me to antenatal classes.’
Mandy was thinking secretly: Maxwell decorating the nursery? Is
this some kind of a sick joke? Where in the world is he getting the time
to do that? Her disbelief turned into rage. On impulse she flung her
foot underneath the table and kicked his ankle with the force behind
the anger that had been building up inside her all through the hours
of the night. She watched as he stiffened and pulled a face. ‘Serves you
right, you bastard,’ she heard herself mumbling under her breath.
Mandy was slowly running out of ideas. Not sure what to ask the
mistress anymore, she said, ‘Have you chosen names for the twins,
Kristy?’ She had never probed into someone’s private life as she was
probing now.
‘Well, Maxwell insisted that we name them after his mother and
grandmother. But I also have a mother, you know. So in the end we
agreed to share the names between our mothers.’ She was talking about
him as if he was not there.
Deep in his heart, Maxwell knew that his marriage was hanging
in the balance, on a very thin thread. It was a matter of time before
Mandy pulled the trigger on him. And he could not say that he did not
see it coming. Only, he was foolish enough to think he could get away
with it without being caught. He wished he could crawl like a baby
under the tables and out of the restaurant, and run as far away from the
two women as possible, where neither of them would ever find him.
With a shaky hand he produced a handkerchief from the pocket of his
jacket and wiped the sweat off his face.
Mandy felt she had heard what she needed to hear. She looked at
her watch and allowed a disguised frown to cross her face. ‘Oh my! I
didn’t realise how time has flown! I really have to go. My colleagues are
waiting for me at our table. We have to get back to the office.’
‘It was a pleasure meeting you, Mandy,’ Kristal said as Mandy got
to her feet.
‘The pleasure was mine, Kristy.’ There was an agonising moment
65
of silence as Mandy swallowed a lump in her throat and blinked back

the tears. And then she continued, ‘The little chat we had ... it shed so
much light on your relationship with my friend here. I now know how
much he loves you and wish both of you nothing but the best of luck.’
‘If you weren’t in a hurry I’d show you the twins’ ultrasound,’
Kristal said as she rummaged in her bag.
Maxwell shifted uneasily in his chair. He just knew he had to stop
Kristal. He opened his mouth and barked at her. ‘You heard her. She
said she has to get back to work!’
‘You don’t have to yell at me. That’s very impolite,’ Kristal snapped
back at him, refusing to be hectored by him.
Inwardly Mandy was grateful to Maxwell for saving her the agony
of looking at their unborn babies. That vivid image would have clung
to her for the rest of her life. She would have been tormented by it, day
and night, until she lost her mind. Just when she thought she was going
to break down and cry she turned abruptly and walked away from the
table.
She had not taken more than a few steps when she felt a hand on
her shoulder. It was Maxwell: he had come after her. She pulled away
from him so she could look at his face, and was not surprised to see
how stiff and tense he seemed. ‘What do you want?’ she asked in a
voice smothered by fury.
‘Can we talk for a minute, please Mandy?’ Maxwell was whispering,
overly careful not to be overhead by his mistress.
‘How amazing, Maxwell. All of a sudden you’re prepared to talk.
Why couldn’t you say what you want to say to me back there at your
table? Did the cat have your tongue the entire time?’
Maxwell ran an unsteady finger over his lips. ‘Listen, Mandy. I didn’t
plan for us to bump into each other like this. It came as a devastating
surprise. If there was anything I could have done to avoid ...’ His voice
trailed as Mandy interrupted him angrily.
‘You call this a surprise? Were you hoping to carry on with this filthy
affair without ever being caught out?’ She almost spat in his face, then
realised there could be people watching them, including his mistress.
She waggled an angry finger at him. ‘You know what, Maxwell, you
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A WOMAN WRONGED
disgust me. The sight of you makes me sick to the stomach. I won’t
stand here and listen to anything pathetic coming from your mouth.’
She turned to walk away from him but he caught her by the arm.
‘Please, Mandy, don’t walk away from me. Not now.’ He was getting
into the habit of begging her. ‘I know it must have been an ordeal for
you, finding out like this. And this may not be any consolation for you,
but there was not a single day that passed that I didn’t hate myself for
what I was doing to you. I owe you an explanation and an apology. As
soon as I get to the office I’ll give you a call.’ As he was talking his eyes
grew moist with tears. He turned his head away abruptly and reached
for a handkerchief in the pocket of his trousers, wiping his eyes under
the cover of blowing his nose.
Mandy almost felt sorry for him, then she reminded herself that
this was the man who’d blatantly betrayed her trust and her love. Her
face hardened. ‘There’s nothing you can say that will make this right,
Maxwell. You’ve done enough damage to this marriage. But you can
thank me that I didn’t cause a scene with your mistress in front of all
these people. It’s because I have respect for myself, which is more than
I have for you.’
‘Please ... Mandy.’
‘On second thoughts, I have a little suggestion. What do you say we
go back to the table? I’m sure your cute mistress will also be interested
in what you have to say to me. Do you think you can handle that?’
His face fell. He remained tight-lipped.
Her head shook in repulsion. ‘I didn’t think so. It’s evident that you
still intend to keep me buried. After all, I’ve been dead for four years!
Goodbye, Maxwell.’
She turned and walked away, leaving him staring after her. A
blazing fury sustained her as she stumbled in the direction of her table.
Her head was boiling. The heat of it undulated to her face. She did not
have to look in the mirror to know she was flushed. Her gait was sloppy
and sluggish, but she was determined to maintain her balance. She was
not sure how she could possibly get through the day, or the next day,
or the day after that.
A spell of dizziness flooded her. She clasped the edge of an unoccu
67
pied table and waited a few seconds until the dizziness had subsided.
A waiter came from behind and shot her an alarmed glance. ‘Are you
all right, madam?’ he asked, grimly concerned. ‘I could ring a doctor
for you ...?’
She was on the verge of tears, but replaced them with a nervous
smile. ‘That won’t be necessary. It must be something I ate earlier. I am
all right now. Thanks for your concern, though. It’s much appreciated.’
She knew she was not all right. She felt broken inside. Kristal’s hurtful
words continued to echo in her head like a faraway thunderstorm.
Fiancée; wife passing away; four-year relationship; twins; decorating
the nursery; baby names; ultrasound picture! She was as angry with
herself as she was with Maxwell. How could she not have known that
something like this was going on right under her nose?
So engrossed was she in her thoughts that she almost collided with
a tired-looking waiter carrying a tray of drinks. She apologised with
a nod of her head and a polite shrug of her shoulders. Suddenly the
restaurant seemed claustrophobic. She wanted nothing more than to
escape from it. She found she could no longer breathe the same air as
those two people. By the time she reached her table, she was breathing
heavily. Tom and Henry took one look at her terrified face and leapt to
their feet, almost at the same time. Tom grabbed her handbag from the
table and said, ‘Let’s get out of here.’
Mandy fell into step with them, but as they approached the main
door she found she could no longer keep up with their long strides.
Her whole body was shaking. The dizzy spell that had plagued her a
few moments ago was threatening to surface. As they approached the
door, Henry hooked his arm around hers and guided her firmly out.
She looked up at him and flashed him a washed-out smile filled with
gratitude. On his arm, she suddenly felt less fragile.
She was dimly aware of being dragged across the street and
bundled onto the back seat of a car. After that everything turned dark.
She must have passed out. When she opened her eyes, she was lying
on a hard hospital bed surrounded by screens. A drip was attached to
her left arm. She rubbed her eyes, trying to remember how she came
to be there.
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A WOMAN WRONGED
Tom was sitting on a small bench next to her, his back arched
and his elbows flexed before him on the edge of the bed. He had a
concerned look on his face. It had frightened him to watch Mandy’s
body suddenly going limp, sagging as she fainted in Henry’s arms. He
thought of Maxwell and his companion, wondering what he could
have said to her that got her to the point of passing out.
Henry was sitting across from Tom, on the opposite side of the bed.
He was fiddling distractedly with his gold watch, turning it around
and around on his wrist. It was Tom who first noticed that Mandy had
come around. He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. ‘Oh baby,
thank God you’re finally awake. You had us worried.’
As she tried to hoist herself up onto her elbows, she felt the IV
tugging on her arm. Her head exploded in excruciating pain. She cried
out in agony.
‘It’s all right, baby. You don’t have to wake up,’ Tom said soothingly.
‘What happened? Why am I in hospital?’ She had no recollection
of the series of events that had led her here.
‘Maxwell and the woman ... you came back from their table with
a frightful look on your face as if you had just seen a group of aliens
landing in a spaceship. You fainted, and we brought you here,’ Tom
said, as he tried to jolt her memory.
Henry squeezed her hand. ‘Try to remember what happened
while you were there at their table. Did he say anything about who the
woman was? Is she the reason you felt the way you did?’
Her memory started to come back in flashes. So painful were they
that she shut her eyes. Suddenly she was ashamed to meet the two
men’s gaze. Tom noticed. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder.
‘You don’t have to feel any shame about telling us what he said to you.
We’ll understand. Henry and I will always be here for you. You know
that, don’t you, baby?’
She opened her heart to them, not holding back anything. ‘He’s
been cheating on me. She introduced herself as his fiancée. The affair
has been going on for four years. They’re expecting twin girls.’ Her
voice was filled with pain and disappointment.
The two men exchanged glances. She had just confirmed their
69
worst doubts. For a while they remained silent, not sure what to say to
her. No words would lessen the disappointment she was feeling inside.
It ran much deeper than even the pain she was feeling in her heart.
‘This must be hard on you, finding out like this,’ said Henry with
sadness.
‘I wish it was all a terrible nightmare that I’d wake up from and feel
good about myself again! But it’s the truth, Henry.’
‘You couldn’t expect it of someone like him. What in the world
prompted him to do something like that?’
‘People change, Henry. He has changed. And to think he has been
carrying on with this affair for so long, right under my nose! How
could I not have known that something was wrong?’ She paused for
a moment to breathe through her open mouth as a sharp pain jerked
her heart, and then continued. ‘What hurts most is that I believed him
when he said he loved me. And I was naïve enough to think that he
was different from every other man out there, that he was not capable
of loving two people at the same time – simply because I wouldn’t have
been able to. But obviously I was wrong about him.’
‘Don’t beat yourself up, please love,’ Henry comforted. ‘You trusted
him because you loved him and believed in the sanctity of marriage.
There’s nothing wrong with that. He’s the one who betrayed your love
and trust. He made a conscious decision to live a double life, full of lies.
Everyone who knows the two of you knows that you’ve been a good
wife to him.’
But Mandy was inconsolable. ‘It’s one thing for a man to have a
little fun with his mistress, Henry, but to have a child with her is a
completely different story. How am I supposed to accept such bastard
children in my home? And how am I expected to explain to my son
that he has two stepsisters, conceived while his father was married to
me and living with us?’
Henry could feel her anguish. He wished there was something he
could say or do to ease her pain. ‘I’m so sorry this had to happen to
you, love.’
‘So am I, Henry. So am I. This is something we read about in the
gossip columns of the newspapers and magazines, or watch in the
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A WOMAN WRONGED
movies. Until it happens to you personally, you can only imagine it as

something that happens to others.’ There was a painful pause and she
said, ‘I don’t think I can get through this.’
‘Yes you can, and you will.’
‘How, Henry?’
‘One day at a time.’ But even as he said it, he had no inkling how
anyone could experience a betrayal of such magnitude and come out
of it unscathed.
‘I could deal with it if it was only a one-night stand or a relationship
of a few months. But four years! And with twins on the way! This seems
like an ideal marriage and a family. It’s totally unexpected ... cruel and
evil.’ She looked away and lapsed into silence. A heavy melancholy had
fallen over her, leaching the strength from her body.
Henry rubbed his sweaty hands together, searching for the right
words to say to her. And when he thought he’d found them, he took
her hand and said, ‘Life doesn’t offer us any guarantees, nothing that we
hope for, Mandy. It’s up to us to rise above the tests and the tribulations
of life. You have the inherent ability to do that. Women are blessed with
that. Dig deeper into it.’
‘But why did this have to happen to me, Henry?’
‘Sometimes we don’t have a choice. Things happen to us whether
we like it or not.’ The one person Henry never wished to see hurting
was Mandy. What Maxwell did to her was indeed cruel and evil. It was
going to take her a long time to recover, if she ever would, completely.
Tom was too distraught to speak. He sat there, thoughtful, his hand
continuously rubbing the back of his head. He was afraid for her, if
the truth be told. Very afraid. As the only child in the family, she grew
up being overprotected by two parents who loved her very much. No
harm could ever come to her. Now, as an adult, and for the first time in
her life, she was beginning to see the world through the eyes of others
– as cold and cruel.
The stifling silence that followed seemed to last for hours. When
Tom finally summoned the courage to speak, he grasped both her
hands in his and locked his eyes with hers. He started as if accustomed
to giving advice. ‘Listen to me, baby, I know this has come as a shock to
71
you. But whatever you do, don’t rush into making any hasty decisions
about your marriage. You just came face-to-face with a predatory
woman who would do anything to get a ring on her finger without a
care who gets hurt in the process. She has one foot on your doorstep; if
you let her, she’ll step in and destroy everything that you’ve built with
your husband. Just don’t let her. Talk this through with Maxwell and
find it in your heart to forgive him. He’s only human. No one ever said
he was God. A prominent figure in the community, yes, but certainly
not God. He made a dreadful mistake like any other man and deserves
your pardon, if he ever shows remorse. And I’m sure when you’ve had
time to think about this and get to hear what prompted him to do it,
you’ll agree that it will be the best thing ever to pardon him, the best
thing for little Danny. It will be the best thing all around.’ His voice had
quivered a little, and droplets of sweat had broken out on his forehead.
Henry handed him a handkerchief.
Mandy could swear Tom was on the brink of tears. She was so
moved by the intensity of his words that for a couple of seconds she
could not speak. If she had dared to say anything, she would have
choked on her own words. At that instant, Mandy knew that whatever
happened to her marriage, both men would be there to help her pick
up the pieces and start over. She knew she could depend on them for
anything. When hot tears began to gather in her eyes she wondered
if she was going to break down and cry, but she fought them back. If
anyone needed the strength, she did – for the two men in front of her,
and for her son, if no one else.
For a long while, she watched Tom, then shifted her attention back
to Henry. Never had she seen such expressions of hurt and sadness
on the faces of grown men. Overwhelmed by deep emotions, she
stretched out her arms and hugged them to her. ‘I don’t know what I’d
do without you in my life. I love you both so much.’
Henry kissed her forehead. ‘That’s what friends are for. We love you
too, Mandy, and we’ll always be here for you, anytime you need us, and
for anything.’
‘I know, Henry.’
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CHAPTER FIVE
It was a while before Tom gathered himself again. ‘Do you intend
calling your mother and telling her what’s happened, Mandy?’
Mandy did not answer immediately. She secretly wondered how
on earth she could possibly break such dreadful and shameful news to
her mother. It was not as if she was afraid it would shatter her mother
– she was a strong woman who’d always believed that a man was a
time bomb, waiting to explode in the face of a poor innocent woman.
It was her father she worried about, more than anything. His heart
was not as strong as it used to be since his last bypass. There was no
knowing how he would react to the devastating news. Only heaven
knew if he’d wake up in intensive care on a life-support machine. The
thought caused her to recoil inside. Ever since she was a little girl, her
father had never wanted anyone or anything to hurt her. Throughout
her life, he’d overprotected her and treated her like fragile glass.
‘I guess I’ll have to call her, but not right away. I still need some
time alone to absorb this and to make sense of it all. Everything has
happened so fast. It’s like watching an action-packed movie.’
73
Tom understood: even he and Henry were still finding it hard to

believe that Maxwell actually did what he did to her.
Each one’s thoughts began to drift ...
Mandy had her left hand stretched out before her as she stared
at her wedding ring. She began turning it around and around. That
was the ring Maxwell had put on her finger when they were young
and madly in love, with grand hopes and bright plans for the future.
Now all those plans had been thwarted. She had proved herself a good
wife to him and borne him a healthy, handsome son. And this is how
he repaid her! She thought of what her friends would say if they saw
her looking this distraught and deeply aggrieved. Each time they saw
her with Maxwell, their hearts filled with envy for her. They had this
notion that nothing bad ever happened to her. Whenever they talked
about an ideal marriage, it was always her and Maxwell they held up
as an example.
Tom recalled the years he had known Maxwell: a renowned legal
giant and a prominent figure in society, invited to attend esteemed
events and to meet with leaders and top businessmen, asked to speak
in public gatherings and to deliver eulogies. Tom had always been in
awe of Maxwell, and so was everyone who had an opportunity to meet
with him and to get to know him closely. His admiration and respect
for Maxwell was excessive. Now he felt sorry for Maxwell, a man who’d
traded everything he had built for lust. He recalled what his father used
to say, that a man does not get far without the right woman behind him.
Maxwell would know, deep within him, that his mistress was going to
be his greatest downfall. That day was doomed to come, sooner or later.
And what a fall from grace it would be for him! He now felt a deep
repulsion for Maxwell.
Henry had moved from his chair and was now sitting at the
head of the bed alongside Mandy. His arm rested affectionately on
her shoulder. His solemn eyes lit up as he constantly stole glances at
her beautiful face. He had been intrigued by her since his first day at
the company. Although he never mentioned it to anyone, not even
Mandy herself, his greatest wish was someday to marry someone who
resembled her in every possible way – someone who was loyal, loving
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A WOMAN WRONGED
and elegant, and who had a deep sense of commitment to family. In

the years he had known her, she had been nothing but a terrific wife to
Maxwell, and a doting mother to his son. She had given her marriage a
good shot. Nobody could say she hadn’t. His heart bled for her. She was
totally undeserving of what her husband was doing to her. Overcome
by his grand adoration for her, he drew her closely to him and snuggled
her under his broad shoulder. With his free hand he stroked her hair
gently.
They were all brought back from their drifting thoughts by the
doctor’s approaching footsteps. The doctor sensed the tension inside
the screens as soon as he stepped in. He glanced at each of them over
the rim of his glasses. ‘Am I interrupting something?’ he asked. ‘I could
come back in a few minutes if you want.’
Tom stood up. ‘It’s all right, doctor. We were just chatting. Please
... go ahead and attend to your patient. My friend and I will be waiting
at Reception if Mandy needs us.’ Henry followed him to the coffee
machine down the corridor. They returned with cups of coffee, and sat
waiting outside.
The doctor was a tall older man with a straight back. He wore a
white coat over a shiny, striped, navy-blue shirt. His black corduroy
trousers hung loosely around his thin waist and were kept from sagging
down by his black suspenders. A stethoscope dangled around his neck.
His steel-rimmed glasses drooped loosely over the bridge of his nose.
Mandy could do nothing but smile heartily up at him. She took
an instant liking to him, thinking he must have been good-looking
and charming in his youth. His face was freshly shaved. Behind his
thick glasses, his eyes appeared huge and dark. The skin on his face was
smooth and glossy. The tiny wrinkles at the sides of his eyes were lines
of laughter. His hair was black with no streaks of grey.
He stared at Mandy; she stared back at him. And then he grinned.
His smile had the magical power to rid one of pain and suffering, and
to leave one wondering why one had come to the hospital in the first
place. The ache in Mandy’s head dissolved. He held out his hand and
introduced himself. ‘I’m the doctor who attended to you when you
were brought in. Dr Jacobs.’
75
Mandy grasped his hand. It felt icy cold against her warm flesh. It
was as if he had been holding a few cubes of ice with it. But his grip was
firm and hard. ‘I’m pleased to meet you, doctor,’ she said, shaking his
hand while trying to wriggle her hand from his agonising grip.
He leaned over her and asked, ‘How are you feeling now, Mrs.
Richardson?’ His tone of voice was barely audible. Mandy had to strain
her ears to hear him. ‘I feel good enough to go home, doctor.’ She had
added some sparkle to her voice to make her words sound believable.
The doctor was amused at her answer. He straightened up and
crossed his arms over his chest. The laughter lines at the sides of his
eyes deepened as a broad grin pulled up his facial muscles. ‘I’m glad to
hear that, Mrs Richardson. I didn’t realise how good a doctor I really
was. You just came into my emergency room a few minutes ago and
already you’re feeling good enough to go home?’
‘I honestly feel good, doctor.’ She almost believed the words herself.
He pulled up a chair and sat beside her, crossing one leg elegantly
over the other. ‘You’ve suffered a minor shock,’ he said by way of
explanation. ‘If you can help it, stay clear of any situation that might
trigger the shock again. Your blood pressure and blood glucose are
normal. I’m going to discharge you with a clean bill of health.’ And
hearing her breathe a huge sigh of relief, he added, ‘But I urge you to
take the rest of the day off. Go straight home and get into bed.’ There
was a decisiveness in his voice that made Mandy not dare to object to
his order. All she managed was a slight nod of her head.
She watched as he removed her drip, and listened when he handed
her a prescription for strong sedatives, explaining that she take one at
bedtime. She thanked him and stumbled to her feet. As they emerged
from the screens, he turned to face her, and wagged a long finger at
her. ‘You take good care of yourself, Mrs Richardson. And call me if
you need anything.’
Mandy did not reply, but smiled to herself. In many ways, he
reminded her of her father. He had such an aura of tranquility about
him. She felt it flowing out of him and radiating through her. She began
to feel calm and tranquil herself. But deep within her she yearned to
return to the office and just bury herself in her work, thinking what a
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A WOMAN WRONGED
world of good it would do her to keep her mind off Maxwell and his
pathetic mistress.
As soon as Tom and Henry spotted her, they leapt to their feet and
closed in around her, fretting over her. It was as if they had overheard
the harsh instruction the doctor had just given her. Tom grabbed her
handbag from her. ‘We’re taking you straight home, and I’m not taking
no for an answer. I just wish the doctor had given you a few sick days so
you could stay home and have a long good rest.’ Henry trotted behind
them and said, ‘You don’t have to worry about work. Tom and I will
take care of everything at the office.’
‘But ... what about my car ... it’s parked at the building? And I have
to pick Danny up from school.’
‘You’re in no condition to drive, love,’ said Henry as he opened the
passenger door for her. ‘I’ll drive by and drop off your car tomorrow at
around lunchtime. Danny can spend another night at Sharon’s. I’ll call
her when we get to the office and let her know.’
Mandy realised she was no match for the combined forces of the
two men. She sank deeper into her seat and immediately threw back
her head in passivity, allowing them to take complete control over her.
She felt safe in their hands. It was the prospect of returning to an empty
house full of painful memories that dampened her emotions.
The long drive to her house was made in silence. She had her eyes
shut all through the way and consciously forced herself not to think
about anything that happened earlier. It was not long before they pulled
up in her driveway. At their insistence, the two men walked her to the
front door. Her hands trembled as she tried to put the key in the lock.
Henry stepped forward. ‘Let me help you with that.’ He got the key
into the lock with no difficulty and turned it, but the door would not
open. He shrugged his shoulders and said to Tom and Mandy, ‘Stand
back, you two. I am going to give it a little push with my shoulder.’
‘Be careful, Henry, lest you find yourself on the floor and on top
of the door,’ Mandy warned. Tom could barely contain himself as he
visualised Henry lying flat on the ground and on top of the door. And
when the thought became more and more ludicrous to him, he started
to laugh out loudly. Mandy shot him a quick glance and against her
77
will she too started to laugh, quietly at first, and then more loudly and
harsher as the ache in her head resurfaced. Before long, they were
blowing their noses and wiping the tears of laughter from their faces.
But her aching head continued to slam against the insides of her skull.
She wished she’d had the forethought to ask the doctor for a few pain
tablets.
Henry did not share any delight in their amusement. Instead, he
looked over his shoulder and gave them a scornful look. ‘That’s not
funny, you two. I’m trying to help here.’ With a good push, the door
creaked open, but his shoulder was left feeling slightly sore. He rubbed
a hand over it and said to Mandy, ‘The hinges need a bit of greasing.
Get Maxwell to attend to that.’
At the mere mention of Maxwell’s name, the lightness Mandy had
been feeling in her heart since they left the hospital was replaced by
sinking heaviness. She shot a solemn glance at Henry. ‘If he ever comes
back home,’ she said, her voice heavy with pessimism.
Tom nudged her with his elbow. ‘Of course he’ll come back home,
baby. He belongs here with you and Danny. Don’t be so pessimistic.
And remember to call us if you need anything.’
At Tom’s reassuring words, a lazy smile curled her upper lip. They
hugged and said their quick goodbyes. For a while she stayed at the
door, watching as Tom reversed the car out of the gate. She leaned
against the door after she had closed it. Suddenly she felt lonely, and
regretted letting them drive away without inviting them in for a cup of
coffee. That would at least have compelled them to linger a little longer
and keep her company.
The silence in the house was creepy, almost enclosing, even with
the curtains open. Despite the warm weather, she shivered under her
jacket and drew her arms around her. With deliberate steps she
stumbled upstairs and submitted herself to a hot bath, then curled into
bed. She doubted she would get any sleep. It had been a gruelling
afternoon. Her head sounded full of drums. The energy she’d expended
trying to make sense of her painful reality had left her frayed.
Miraculously, sleep came soon after her head hit her pillows. She slept
fitfully; her mind would not settle. When the tossing and turning in
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A WOMAN WRONGED
bed became intolerable, she eased herself out of bed with a moan and
went downstairs to find something that might occupy her mind, to
distract it from drifting back to her husband and his mistress.
As she walked past Maxwell’s office, some unexplained force
propelled her toward it. She kicked open the door and took a few steps
inside. In the middle of the room she stopped in her tracks, not sure
what she had come there for. When she felt some weakness creep into
her knees, she walked to his desk, pulled out a chair and slumped
onto it. Papers and files were scattered on the table. On the far end
was a family portrait taken when Danny was a few months old. She
reached out and brought it before her. For a long moment she studied
the photograph with a tiny smile tightening around her lips. She had
Danny on her lap. Maxwell was standing behind her with his arms
wrapped around her shoulders. He was looking down at Danny. There
was a cheerful expression on his face, one of an incredibly proud father.
In the minutes that followed, she could not control the memories
that flooded over her, memories of the good times she had shared with
her husband. One particular recollection stood out in her mind. It was
one sizzling evening after she had tucked Danny into bed. She was
bringing Maxwell a cup of herbal tea to his office. He was working
late that night, his laptop screen flashing back at him as he prepared
the opening speech for the case he was presiding over. He looked up
at the sound of the door creaking open and caught sight of her at the
doorway, wearing a see-through night shirt with nothing underneath
it. Her full breasts and immaculate curvaceous figure lay bare to his
naked eyes. She stepped slowly into the office, one foot placed before
the other as if she was a model on the catwalk. He beamed, peering at
her over the rim of his spectacles, his eyes melting with a deep ache
for her. He waited until she was standing a few inches away from him
before he got to his feet and took the cup from her. Much as he enjoyed
his evening tea, he did not bother to take a sip, but merely pushed the
cup away to the far end of the desk. His eyes were moving up and down
her sensational body. And when the ache for her became unbearable,
he wrapped his arms around her and whispered, ‘Let’s do it right here,
honey.’ With one swift movement, he ripped open her shirt and let
79
it slide down her shoulders. He cupped her breasts in his hands; her
flesh gave a sharp leap. Sensations of desire exploded inside her body.
She struggled to ignore them. With her eyes gazing deeply into his,
she heard herself mumbling, ‘I’m all yours, sweetheart. Let it happen.’
Her arms were entwined around his neck. They flopped down onto the
thick carpet, rolling and kissing. His cup of tea had long turned cold by
the time they surfaced from the floor, their hair dishevelled and both
gasping for air.
Such recollections inspired in her some tenderness. She experi
enced surprising difficulty in keeping herself from smiling. For a long
while she sat there, thinking. She missed her husband more than she
liked to admit. She could not imagine her life without him. There
would be nothing nicer than having him back in the house. Already
the house felt lonely and empty without him. His love for her might
have died, but hers was still alive and strong. She thought of Tom and
what he cautioned her about earlier at the hospital. There might be
some truth in what he said, that her husband’s mistress was a predatory
woman who would stop at nothing to get a ring on her finger. Already
it looked like she was succeeding. But Mandy was not going to let her.
Not without a fight. She had invested too much in her marriage to have
a callous man-hunter come in and rip it apart. Her son needed a father
in his life. No one was going to deprive him of that, not even Maxwell’s
unborn twins.
Suddenly the resolve to fight back kicked in strongly. It made her
whole body quiver with vengeance. At that instant she made a pact
with herself: she would find it in her heart to forgive him if he came
home to her. After all, she was not the only woman in the world who’d
been cheated on by her husband. It happens all the time. Not all of
these women hasten to walk away from their marriages. They cling on
to their husbands. So why would she walk away from hers? Everyone
deserved a second chance. Her husband deserved a second chance;
and that was exactly what she intended to give him.
Mandy was not used to being at home at that time of the afternoon.
Not sure what to do with all the time on her hands, she began to open
Maxwell’s desk drawers, one at a time, looking inside, searching idly
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for anything that would help to keep the memory of her husband
alive before her. She went through a stack of old bank statements and
wondered why he was still keeping them. One caught her attention.
She pulled it out: it was from their joint investment account, dated
five months back. The balance on it seemed bizarre to her. Something
about it did not add up – she knew they had a whole lot more invested
than what the statement was showing. She was never intrusive, but she
sat back in the chair and scrutinised it. One transaction at the bottom
of the page caused her to raise her eyebrows. It was a transfer of a
substantial amount of money, almost a quarter of their many years of
hard-earned savings.
A tremor came over her. She shut her eyes and sighed deeply. ‘Oh,
Maxwell. What in the world did you do with all this money?’ There
was only one way to find out. She picked up the telephone and dialled
the bank’s number, concealing her fear as best as she could. On the
fifth ring, a woman’s voice answered. Mandy asked to be put through
to the bank manager and while she waited she took a moment to calm
herself. If she was going to be given a service over the phone she had to
be composed and sound in control.
She waited for what seemed an eternity and then said brightly,
‘Good afternoon. This is Mandy Richardson. Am I talking to the bank
manager?’
The man on the other end of the line recognised her voice. ‘Oh,
hello, Mandy-girl. What a lovely surprise. It’s Mark you’re talking to. Is
there anything I can do for you?’ Her father was the only one who had
ever called her Mandy-girl. She breathed an enormous sigh of relief,
thinking: What a piece of luck it is to be put through to an old friend.
She and Mark grew up together as neighbours and schoolmates. A few
days after Danny was born, Mark had given her a surprise call and said,
‘How’s my godson doing?’ Three months later, he was holding Danny
in his arms at his christening, in front of a full church. He wore the
look of a proud godfather on his face. Despite her muddled thoughts
and frustration, Mandy smiled openly at the recollection.
‘Oh, Mark. Am I so happy to hear your voice!’ She was genuine
as she said this, and did not waste any time in getting straight to the
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reason she had called. ‘There’s something I really need you to check for
me, Mark.’
‘Anything for you, Mandy-girl; just name and it will be done.’
He found it a pleasant coincidence that she’d called, because he had
contemplated phoning her during the past few days to inquire about
her and Maxwell, and about his godson too. They were three people
who were closest to his heart.
Mandy mopped the perspiration on her forehead with her sleeve
and went on to explain about the bank statement she found, giving him
the details of the transaction.
‘Stay on the line while I check for you.’
It took a few minutes before he was back on the line again. ‘Do you
realise there’s a second mortgage on the house?’ he asked slowly.
‘Are you sure it’s our account you’re looking at, Mark? I would
definitely know if we’d taken a second mortgage.’
‘Well ... that’s where the money went to, Mandy.’
Her disappointment was obvious. She covered her mouth with
her hand so he would not hear the strangled gasp that involuntarily
escaped her. ‘I don’t know what to say, Mark. Maxwell never discussed
this with me.’
But Mark was not taken aback at all. This was what he had to deal
with every day in his office. Only, he never imagined it would happen
to someone he knew very closely, the one person he dearly loved.
When next he spoke his tone was filled with sympathy. ‘Mandy-girl,
what’s going on between you and Maxwell? You know you can trust me
with your secrets, don’t you?’
She knew that to be true. They’d always shared deep secrets, since
the tender age of five. It all started when one Saturday afternoon she
accidentally ran over a neighbour’s two-month-old puppy with her
bicycle, almost killing it. Mark was cycling behind her and saw it all
as it happened. In her moment of fright she made him promise not
to tell anyone she did it. He promised and kept the little secret. Later,
they both watched as the unruly boy a few blocks down the street was
accused instead, and given a beating.
‘I think I know who Maxwell took the mortgage for,’ she said in a
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sad voice. ‘He has been cheating on me. The affair has been going on
for four years now. I only found out today. It’s pretty serious, Mark.
She’s expecting his twins.’
At first Mark was puzzled, then distressed, then furious at the
shocking news. He tightened his jaw and clenched his hands into
fists. ‘So the son-of-a-bitch bought her a house with your money?
Wait till I get my hands on him.’ For the first time since he’d known
Maxwell, Mark felt a deep resentment toward him, and an even deeper
resentment to all the other cheating men out there, thinking secretly: If
left unchecked, men could do ghastly things to their poor unsuspecting
wives.
There was a brief pause. ‘Do you want me to put the account on
ice, Mandy-girl?’
Mandy nodded her head as though he could see her. ‘Oh, Mark.
Can you really do that without my having to come to the bank?’ Even
as she spoke, the lines of sorrow grew deeper around her eyes.
‘For you, I can do anything. Just consider it done. There’s one thing
you have to do, though.’
‘What, Mark?’
‘Go and see your solicitor. Don’t let the bastard get away with this,
do you hear me, Mandy? Slap him hard in the face with the divorce
papers and move on with your life. You’re a beautiful woman and there
are still a few good men out there. One of them will come and sweep
you off your feet when you least expect it, and give you the love and
happiness you deserve.’
‘I’ll make an appointment to see him first thing on Monday.’ She
was about to thank him and replace the receiver when suddenly she
remembered that their mothers were neighbours and bosom friends.
She was determined to keep the shameful news from reaching her
parents, at least until she had had time to confront her husband and
had sought the advice of her solicitor. ‘Mark,’ she said shyly on the
telephone. ‘My mother has no knowledge of this happening. I wouldn’t
want to worry her and daddy for now until I’ve had time to figure
things out.’
‘I won’t leak this to my mother if that’s what you’re afraid of. You
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can count on me on that one,’ he said with great sympathy. His heart
went out to her. He could tell by the tone in her voice that she was still
hopeful about working things out with her husband, and that things
would go back to how they used to be before he met his mistress.
He thought he understood why she felt that way: when she accepted
Maxwell’s hand in marriage, she believed in her heart that they would
have the same kind of respectable marriage her parents had, and that
he would remain true to her as her father had been to her mother.
The one thing he feared most was seeing her alienate herself from the
people who loved her, only to find herself caught up in an emotionally
abusive relationship from which there could be no escape.
They chatted for a short while as he inquired about little Danny.
Long after she had hung up the phone she sat quietly, thinking. The
word ‘divorce’ had left her feeling uneasy. For her, it meant failure;
and it also meant disgrace and shame. In her mind she had always
equated it with people who had very little regard for the sanctity of
marriage; people who made vows they could not keep, and who had
faltering commitment to their children. And now, all at once, her
whole perspective changed. She recognised for the first time that when
you are a woman wronged, divorce was a tool you could use to hold
onto your convictions and act on them.
She got to her feet and paced the room, studying it as though it
would provide some solace and comfort, or give her some answers. But
it remained cold and remote. Her eyes fell on the small liquor cabinet
at the far corner of the room. Taking a deep breath she walked slowly
to it and returned seconds later with a stiff glass of whiskey. Hunched
on the chair, she took a long gulp, stiffened as the whiskey burned its
way down her throat, then took another gulp anyway until she had
drunk it to the last drop. Afterwards her lips twitched with rage. The
urge to throttle Maxwell was overwhelming.
But the mounting curiosity inside her forced her back to the desk.
She resumed her search, frantically looking inside each drawer more
carefully than she had done before. They seemed to harbour skeletons. It
was the sudden noise of rain that brought her out of her concentration.
Heavy showers of water were plopping down on the ceiling above her
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and lashing ferociously at the windows. She sat back in the chair and
listened to the rain. The intermittent rumbling of thunder filled her
with terror. As she always did during a thunderstorm, she clasped both
hands to her ears to block it out. She remained in that position for what
seemed like hours until the rain eventually eased and the lightning
subsided. She resumed her search, prepared for anything but what she
was about to see.
One thick yellow envelope fell to the floor from the stack of papers
she had just pulled out from another drawer. She bent over and picked
it up. It was addressed to Maxwell in an erratic blue ink. She hesitated
for a moment before opening it. Some strong instinct told her that there
was nothing inside the envelope but horrifying news that would leave
her reeling with shock. She could feel her heart starting to beat wildly.
One trembling finger stretched out, lightly poked the gaping edge of
the envelope and ripped it open. Inside was a pile of photographs. She
scattered them on the table before her and began scrutinising each one
of them. Her mouth gaped, eyes steadily bulging out until they felt as if
they would fall out of their sockets.
The photographs were of Maxwell and some skinny tall young
woman taken at the beach. She took a closer look at the woman and her
heart stopped beating as the familiarity struck her. It was her husband’s
mistress, Kristal! She swore under her breath, ‘The flipping bitch!’
Much as it pained her to look at the photographs, she found herself
flipping through them, eager to uncover every secret he had been
hiding from her. Maxwell in white swimming shorts; Kristal in a red
bikini; them running and laughing; him carrying her on his back with
her legs wrapped around him, arms tight around his neck; them lying
on the sand and kissing; sitting on the balcony of a house across from
each other at the table with tall glasses in their hands; a little boy of
about two sitting on the step of the balcony a few inches from them,
holding an ice-cream cone, a grin on his face.
She was thoughtful for a long while, staring across at the blank wall
with a troubled look on her face. It was the photograph taken on the
balcony that bothered her more than anything else, because she would
recognise that balcony even in the darkest hour of the night. It was the
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balcony of her holiday house at the coast! A surge of nausea rose in her
throat. She was thinking, not only had he bought his mistress a house
with my money, but he’d been sleeping with her in my own house! At
that shocking moment of disbelief, a thought struck her. What if the
unborn twins were conceived there, in her own bedroom, on her own
bed? Her heart began to smash and crash against her ribcage, so hard
she almost swore there were bruises.
She gathered herself and grabbed the photograph, studying it
more scrupulously. There was something about the little boy in the
background that bothered her, some alarming and disturbing fami
liarity she could not put a finger on. It was as if she had seen him before,
even held him in her own arms. He was the splitting image of her son.
Just then a new thought crept through her. Was it possible the boy was
Danny? Had Maxwell taken her son with him on his filthy escapades
with his mistress? Her breathing ceased. She gasped for air.
Suddenly she felt a bitter taste of bile in her mouth and a strong
urge to throw up. Her hand covered her mouth as she pushed her chair
back and made a dash for the bathroom. And once she started to puke,
she found she could not stop. When the retching eventually subsided,
she rinsed her mouth under the tap while studying her reflection in the
mirror. But the disorderly thoughts kept infesting her mind. Suppose
the boy in the photograph was not Danny, but her husband’s son with
his mistress? She turned away from the mirror to avoid the look of
terror in her eyes.
But she refused to let go of her supposition, wondering if she might
have been mistaken about the boy. She summoned some strength and
dragged her limp body back to Maxwell’s office to take one more look at
the little boy. Danny had a birthmark just above his right eyebrow. The
boy on the photograph did not have one. There was only one plausible
explanation: he was her husband’s bastard son! There was nothing else
to do but scream. The sound of her shrill voice echoed in the stillness
of the house. When her body started to shake she crossed her arms
around her chest and hugged herself tightly.
Not sure what to do next, she walked to the window, yanked it
open and poked her head out. The cool breeze brushed softly against
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her face. She breathed in the air and exhaled slowly, relishing the
soothing crisp quality of the air. The rain had cleansed the atmosphere
of all malevolent odours and pollution. The air smelt of green leaves
after a heavy thunderstorm. For a while she remained standing there,
gulping air into her lungs and feeling the muscles around her neck
relax. When eventually she stepped away from the window, her heart
was feeling lighter.
Her frayed nerves yearned for another drink. She walked back to
the cabinet and poured herself one, finishing it at a pace that suggested
a desperate attempt to mask her shock. She kept refilling her glass. In
the end, she was unable to estimate how much of the alcohol she had
consumed. Suddenly she yearned for her bed, thinking: If I could just
sleep; only for a short while, I would feel better and be able to think
more clearly. With her head spinning lightly, she kicked off her shoes
and pulled back her chair. She got to her feet and started for the door,
finding it increasingly difficult to control her gait.
She had not taken more than four steps when a terrible weakness
crippled her legs. But she was determined to get to her bed. She stumbled
until she reached her bedroom. When she reached the bedroom, she
had difficulty getting her hand to close around the doorknob, but she
managed it finally. One step into the room, some strong power began to
pull her down. She watched herself helplessly as she sagged down until
her buttocks hit the ground. At that flickering moment, her husband’s
face spurted before her eyes. She hated him, hated everything about
him. She had heard of cheating men suffering heart attacks in the arms
of their mistresses. She wished it would happen to Maxwell, and that
he would not survive the attack.
For a long while, Mandy stayed on the floor with her knees flexed
to her chest and her back against the wall. Much of the inner strength
that had sustained her throughout the night and all through the hours
of the day was swiftly ebbing away from her. Her resistance crumbled.
She opened her mouth and dissolved into tears, uncontrolled hot tears
that had been waiting to come out for too long, but had been denied.
Sobs shook her slim shoulders.
She had no recollection of how long she had been sitting there and
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crying. For the first time in her life she had lost track of time, of the
passing of seconds and minutes. When the sobs finally subsided, her
body was soaked in perspiration. The trouser suit she was wearing was
becoming more and more uncomfortable on her. She wriggled out of
it, taking off her blouse and bra as she did that, and tossed them on the
floor a few inches from where she was sitting.
A new kind of pain jerked her heart as she sat there, thinking
about her husband’s mistress. She could see the vivid image of Kristal’s
bulging pregnancy before her eyes. The time was nearing when she
would give birth to her husband’s bastard twin girls. Evidently, she
would expect Maxwell to be there at her bedside, holding her hand
and breathing with her with each strong contraction. Afterwards,
one milestone would follow the other: the twins’ first birthday, their
first day at school. The list was endless. Each time, Maxwell would be
expected to show up as a proud father and fulfil his responsibilities
toward the girls. And there was their brother too. There was no doubt
that he was already making his own demands on Maxwell, otherwise
why else did he not come home the previous night? They were his new
family and he was already beginning to sacrifice his marriage to be
with them.
The determination to fight for her marriage with every fibre in her
body suddenly left her. Much as she loved her husband, she was not
going to force him to be with her if he loved someone else. It would
only make him unhappy. He would forever look back and wonder what
it would have been like. Besides, when love comes to such a dead end,
who says you can battle on?
For the first time in her life she conceded defeat. Her husband’s
betrayal was just too much to bear. She thought of her best friends:
Tom, Henry and Mark, and Sharon and Robert. And there were also
her loving parents. She drew some comfort from the fact that she was
surrounded by people who truly loved and cared about her, people
who would always be there to help her rise up and face the world again.
Such people were rare. She counted herself as one of the blessed.
She must have fallen asleep hunched on the floor. She woke to her
body shivering with cold. Even her eyes were watering from cold. Only
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then did she realise that she was half naked. She lifted herself from the
ground and staggered to her bedroom. From the wardrobe she pulled
out a pair of pyjamas, slid them on and snuggled into bed, immediately
pulling the bedcovers over her head.
For a while longer she lay there, half asleep and half awake, like a
whale in the sea. She started to think more clearly and realised there
were a few more things that needed to be taken care of. She might be
broken and shattered inside, but she was not lying flat on her face.
Deep within her there was still some spirit left that kept nudging her
on. Women are blessed with that. It sustains them. As they go through
pain, they know they will get through it, and that when it is all over
they will remain standing.
She sat up in bed, grabbed the telephone directory from the bedside
drawer and started searching for a number. When she found it, her
fingers closed in on the phone. She counted the number of rings. On
the sixth ring, just when she thought her call would never be answered,
a man’s voice crackled on the other end of the line. ‘Locksmith, how
can I be of service?’ His voice was deep and strong.
Mandy hesitated for a moment, but only for a moment, and then
said, ‘This is Mandy ... Mandy Richardson.’ She paused. What she
wanted to say seemed to have slipped away.
‘What can I do for you, Mrs Richardson?’ the man asked politely.
‘I need the locks on my doors changed.’ Her voice was raw with
pain and bitterness.
‘How soon would you like that done, Mrs. Richardson?’
‘I want it done today; this very afternoon,’ she replied, with some
tenacity and urgency in her tone. Time was of the essence. Every
minute and second counted. If Maxwell thought he was ever going to
walk into her house at will again, he was in for a big surprise!
‘Do you have an electronic gate?’ the man asked.
That had completely slipped her mind. She sighed gratefully. ‘I’m
glad you asked. Yes, and there are also garage doors.’
‘My men will be there in thirty minutes. I presume there’ll be
someone at home to receive them when they arrive?’
‘That will be me. I’ll be waiting for them.’
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‘Good. Now stay on the line while I take your particulars.’

When she replaced the receiver, she wore a satisfied smile on her
face. As far as she was concerned, Maxwell no longer had a home with
her and Danny. But there was one last thing she still needed to take care
of. His belongings! She wanted everything that belonged to him out of
her house – his clothes, his shoes, everything in his office. If he was
going to walk away, which was what she intended to see happen, it had
to be a proper walk-away; complete, whole, with nothing remaining to
remind her of him.
She remembered the boxes that Maxwell kept in the storeroom of
the guest house, and was secretly grateful that he never got rid of them
when she asked him to. It was about time they were put to good use.
She could not imagine the satisfaction it would bring her to see his
belongings bundled into boxes like rubble and left in the storeroom for
him to collect. It was that feeling of retaliation that impelled her out
of bed. She put on her robe and hurried downstairs to get the boxes.
As she reached the back door, she was startled by the telephone. Her
first reaction was to ignore it and let it ring. Besides, no one was ever
home at that time of the afternoon. So who could be calling? If Tom
and Henry needed to check on her they knew to call her on her mobile
phone.
And then she thought of the locksmith. Perhaps it was him trying
to get hold of her to double-check her address. She hastened to pick
up the extension in the kitchen. ‘The Richardsons’ residence, how can
I help you?’
‘Oh Mandy, thank God I finally found you. I’ve been trying to call
you at your office for the last two hours. Your phone kept on ringing.’
Maxwell!
At the sound of his voice, she felt weak. Without warning, the
receiver slipped from her hand and made a loud bang on the side-
table. With a shaky hand she picked it up slowly and brought it back
to her ear. She was silent for a long moment, wondering if she ought to
talk to him or just slam the phone down in his ear.
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‘Mandy, are you there? Please don’t hang up on me.’ He was

pleading.
Right then she made the decision not to sound as pathetic on
the telephone as she was feeling inside, not wanting to give him the
satisfaction that he had broken her heart into pieces. She took a moment
to recover from his unexpected call. But when at last she spoke, her
voice became frail, dwindling in seconds, almost to a whisper. ‘What
do you want, Maxwell?’
He replied in the same tone of voice. ‘We need to talk, but not over
the phone, of course. I am in my office. The walls here have ears. But all
I wanted to say for now is that what you saw and heard this morning at
the restaurant ... it’s not what you think. I can explain. Please, Mandy,
give me the chance to say what I have to say.’
A part of her wanted to tell him to go to hell, but another part of her
hankered after the explanation of why he’d done what he did to her. In
the end she yielded, thinking it might help her to get some answers and
the closure that she needed to move on with her life. ‘Where do you
propose we meet to talk?’ she asked.
‘We’ll talk when I get home, of course. Why do you make it sound
like I don’t live there anymore?’
Home! She suppressed the strong impulse to pronounce that he no
longer had a home with them. Instead, she replied sarcastically, ‘Oh!
Do you still live here? I thought you moved out yesterday, for good.’
‘Listen, Mandy, I know it was thoughtless and inconsiderate of me
to sleep out. But I can explain, honestly.’
She thought to herself: You have a whole lot more to explain than
that. ‘What time will you be here?’
‘The usual time I arrive home, at five-thirty.’
Her eyes fell on the clock across the room. She made a quick
mental calculation; by that time the locksmith would have finished
changing the locks, and she would have packed his belongings. She
exhaled deeply as though she had been holding her breath. ‘That will
be fine. I’ll be waiting for you.’
Her calmness unnerved him.
‘You’re scaring me, Mandy,’ he remarked nervously.
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‘In which way am I scaring you?’

‘I don’t know. You sound different ... so obscure ... elusive.’ He was
struggling to find the right words.
‘Did you expect me to let out a cheerful crack of laughter at the
sound of your voice, and pretend that nothing ever happened?’
He cleared his throat. ‘I guess not. It was a daft comment I made.
Forget that I ever said it. But still ...’
She cut him short, feeling sick in the stomach at the constant sound
of his voice. ‘See you at five thirty then.’ She slammed down the receiver
and stormed out of the house, reappearing later carrying two heavy
boxes almost half her height, and breathing heavily as she trotted up
the stairs to her bedroom. From the dressing-table drawer she pulled
out a pair of scissors and some duct tape, then set out to work.
She flung open the wardrobe doors; for an instant, she stood staring
at his clothes. They were hung in the precise orderliness he had always
insisted on: shirts buttoned all the way down and facing one side; next
to his golf shirts; next to designer suits of different colours; next to
leather jackets and sports jackets. His underwear and socks were neatly
folded in drawers. As her rage threatened to flare up, she reached out
and scooped the clothes from the rail with both her hands, along with
the hangers, and then stuffed them into the boxes. She was swearing
out loud at him as she did that. And when she realised that his countless
pairs of shoes were going to need an extra box, she hurried back to the
guest house to get one. Later, when everything was safely packed, she
grabbed the scissors, cut strips of duct tape and sealed each box tightly.
Forty minutes later, after she had cleared Maxwell’s office of all the
files and stacks of papers, she rolled the boxes down the stairs and back
to the storeroom. With a deep sigh of relief she realised that getting the
boxes down the stairs was faster than getting them up, provided she
was careful not to let the tape break loose.
Despite the heavy rainfall earlier, the temperature inside the house
was soaring. Droplets of sweat soaked her face, some of them dripping
onto her chest and wetting the pyjama shirt she was wearing. She ran
upstairs and treated herself to a quick shower. Later, as she was drying
and brushing her hair, she pondered what to wear. If that afternoon
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was going to be her last encounter with her husband, then she’d better
look fabulous for him. She pulled from the closet her favourite white
summer dress, which exposed her curvaceous body and immaculate
cleavage. But soon after she had put it on, she took it off again. ‘Why
would he care how I look, anyway?’ She was talking as if there was
someone in the room with her. ‘I always looked good for him, but he
still had his eyes searching somewhere else!’ The bitterness she was
feeling inside was excessive.
She pulled out denim shorts and a matching floral shirt and put
them on. On her feet she wore white flat sandals. As she applied make-
up to her face, she took a closer look at her reflection in the mirror,
anxiously trying to see herself through the eyes of her husband. But
the face that stared back at her was one of a pretty and elegant woman.
Although a few years older than his mistress, she was undeniably
very pretty. There was no justifiable reason why he had to run after
another woman ... unless, of course, he found her sexually gratifying.
The thought caused her uneasiness. She banished it from her mind,
gathered herself together and walked downstairs to make herself a cup
of tea. Minutes later she carried the tea tray to the front balcony, and sat
there sipping her tea. She had a worried look on her face as she poured
herself a second cup, wondering what was keeping the locksmith. They
should have arrived fifteen minutes ago.
Just as she was about to fill her cup for the third time, a white lorry
appeared up the steep road and within seconds screeched to a stop at
her gate. It was the locksmith’s men arriving, two of them. She could
see them looking around and gaping as they admired the splendour
of the house, with its richly colourful roses lining the entire area
around the balcony. It made her wonder if it was the first time they
were assigned to carry out a job in such a neighbourhood. She let them
in and watched as they went about their job, both clad in blue long-
sleeved flannel jackets and matching trousers.
In spite of the increasing afternoon heat, the men worked meti
culously. Before long they had completed their task. Mandy walked
around and tested each of the locks, and when satisfied that it was a job
well executed, she wrote out a cheque and handed it to the taller man
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who appeared to be the supervisor. The shorter man beside him kept
glancing at her with those darting, round eyes, his red beefy tongue
sticking out and licking his cracked lips.
Mandy thought she knew what he wanted. From her purse she
pulled out a few rands, tipped each of them and then watched with
repugnance as the shorter man’s lips parted into a wide grin – only to
expose his decaying front teeth. He was still grinning as his supervisor
slowly reversed the lorry out of the gate.
She waited until the men had disappeared around the bend before
she walked back into the house to refill her cup of tea. Her head was
beginning to throb. She imagined it was the result of the stiff drinks
she’d had earlier in Maxwell’s office. But she had no regrets about
taking them. They had helped to ease her pain. She was feeling a
thousand times better.
She had just returned to the balcony when a strong wind from the
south started blowing. It rattled her cup and saucer, spilling some of
the tea onto the mahogany table. While it brought with it the refreshing
coolness that had been missing the entire afternoon, she found she
could not enjoy her tea any longer. The wind was continually blowing
strands of hair over her face. In the end, she carried her unfinished tea
back inside the house, remembering to lock the door behind her. She
took her seat at the kitchen table and patiently waited for her husband
to arrive.
But the clock on the wall seemed to be standing still; the seconds
ticked at a snail’s pace. When eventually it struck five thirty, the
intercom buzzed. She thought, with mounting anxiety, that this must
be Maxwell – it was the moment she had long been waiting for.
She could barely wait to see the look of aggravation on his face when
he realised he had been locked out of his own house. Unhurriedly, she
pushed back her chair and walked to answer the intercom. Her heart
was beating hard against her chest.
His voice as he spoke was calm and totally unsuspecting. ‘Honey,
it’s me. The gate won’t open. It must be my flat battery. Please open up
for me.’
Mandy covered her mouth and laughed softly. She let him in.
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A minute later, there was a loud bang on the front door. ‘Open
the bloody door, Mandy!’ He was now barking at her without caring
a damn if their neighbours were listening and peeping through their
curtains, as they always did when they heard something unusual in
their secluded neighbourhood.
Mandy deliberately took her time as she paced the kitchen floor,
just to make him wait. He was not used to being kept waiting; no one
ever had the courage to make him wait for anything. The banging
on the door persisted, getting louder and more annoying. When she
was afraid he was about to kick it and smash it open, she hurried and
turned the key in the lock. Before her hand grasped the handle, he
flung the door open and stormed inside, almost knocking her over with
his briefcase. He was a bundle of nerves. His chest was hyperinflated,
nostrils flaring as if suffering a sudden attack of asthma.
He regarded her angrily with those dark blue eyes. ‘Can someone
please tell me what’s going on here? First, it was the gate that wouldn’t
open, and now the garage door and the front door. Have you been
fiddling with the locks, woman?’
Never before had he referred to her as ‘woman’. It left Mandy
frowning in astonishment, and speechless. He gave her an angry stare.
‘I asked you a question, dammit! Have you been fiddling with the
locks?’
It was the word ‘dammit’ that infuriated her more than anything
else. She waggled an irate finger at him. ‘How dare come to my house
and talk to me like that? You flipping bastard! I’m the one who should
be yelling at you after everything you’ve done to me!’
Maxwell was quick to recognise that he was out of line with her. He
swiftly pulled himself together. ‘I didn’t mean to shout at you. Please
forgive me. It’s just that when I couldn’t let myself in I got a bit irritated.’
The atmosphere inside the house was disconcerting. Determined
to ease it a bit and to show her how repentant he was, he took hesitant
steps toward her until he was standing an inch away from her. He would
have kissed her cheek had she not abruptly turned her face away. She
could not bear him to touch her or to feel his lips on her. Those were
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the very lips that had been kissing another woman for four long years.
She flinched inside.
Instinct prevailed. Maxwell sensed the coldness in her. It was as
if she wanted him to be gone from the house. He looked her up and
down with eyes filled with suspicion. ‘We’re not falling out, are we,
honey?’
‘What do you think, Maxwell?’ she asked coldly, throwing the ques
tion back at him as she closed the door behind her. She left it unlocked,
knowing that it would not be long before he had to walk out of it again.
He scratched his scalp fiercely like someone infested with head
lice. ‘Well, that’s the reason I’ve come home, to talk this over with you.’
He followed her to the kitchen. As usual, his briefcase was hanging
heavily on his right hand. At the kitchen table, he let it slip to the floor.
It made the usual thud as it hit the ground. Deep within her heart,
Mandy knew she was going to miss that about him. If the truth be told,
she was going to miss a whole lot of things about him. When tears
of desolation began to gather in her eyes she turned away from him
with her whole body so he would not notice, and walked slowly to the
window. In the seconds that followed, she stood looking out at the tall
green trees lining the back wall as she allowed her eyes to dry.
Maxwell was silent the entire time, watching her closely. His
hand was supporting his chin. It was at that moment that it dawned
on him just how much he had hurt her. He hated himself, and most
importantly, he hated his mistress; he swore by his father’s grave that
he was never going to see her again. As far as he was concerned, their
relationship was over. His heart was now in the right place, with his
wife and son. Nothing, and no one, was ever going to come between
them. He had learnt his lesson the hardest way. The one thing he was
hoping for was that she would pardon him.
He came stealthily behind her, his heart sincerely remorseful. All
he wanted, more than anything else, was to take her in his arms and
whisper to her that everything was going to be all right. He wanted to
assure her that their lives would go back to how they used to be before
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he’d met this other woman, that given a second chance he was going
to prove himself as the best husband ever.
Mandy seemed to sense his aura as he drew closer to her. She turned
just in time as his hands reached out to grab her by her shoulders.
Goosebumps erupted all over her body. She shuddered and stepped
away from the window, creating a reasonable distance between them.
But she was not one to delight in hurting anyone’s feelings. Almost
immediately she noticed the expression of disappointment on his face.
Her heart softened a bit. She hurried to make him feel better as she
asked politely, ‘Would you like something to drink? Beer, or coffee?’
An alarm bell jangled in his head, causing him to turn and stare
sharply at her. In all the years they had been together, she’d never
had to offer him beer. Coffee, yes, but certainly not beer. Something
was undoubtedly going on that she was not telling him. Somewhere
deep in his belly he felt some mysterious fear grip him. ‘I’ll have beer,
thank you. But I’ll get it myself.’ He asserted himself, wanting her to
understand that he was still the man of the house. He started in the
direction of the refrigerator, taking long strides as he always did when
he arrived home from work and his craving for an icy cold beer was
consuming.
But Mandy was not about to let him walk around her house as he
pleased. So much had changed. Everything had changed. She leaped
forward and blocked his way, beckoning him to take his seat at the
table. ‘No, Maxwell,’ she said in a low and gentle voice. ‘You’ll do no
such thing as get the beer yourself. Please sit down and allow me to be
your host.’
‘Why do I feel like a visitor in my own home?’
She pretended not to have heard the derisive question as she pulled
the cold can of beer from the refrigerator. She began to pour it into his
glass, careful not produce the white foam that he hated so much. When
she handed him the glass, her hand was trembling a little. He swallowed
the beer and asked her to bring him another one. She did. When she
handed the can to him she realised that her hand was shaking. She
was steadily losing her cool, and knew right then that she, too, needed
a drink to lighten her up, the same stiff drink she had had earlier on
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in his office. But she did not have to go all the way upstairs to fetch it.
Maxwell had an exclusive bar at the far end of the living room where he
took great pleasure in entertaining his friends on Friday evenings after
an exhausting day at work.
She slammed out of the kitchen and walked to the bar, leaving
Maxwell staring after her, open-mouthed. When she returned seconds
later, she had a bottle of Vodka in her hand. It was not as if she
particularly cared for the brand. All she cared about was the liquid
inside the bottle, its power to soothe her and numb her pain.
‘What in the world are you doing with that?’ he asked, his face full
of disbelief. He knew she occasionally took a glass of wine at the dinner
table, but certainly not spirits.
‘Why would you care?’ she answered as she flung open the cupboard
door and brought out a glass.
‘I know how much you’re hurting, Mandy. And I take full respon
sibility for that. But you don’t have to do this to yourself. Drinking that
stuff is just not the answer.’
‘What do you reckon is the answer? Accepting your infidelity with
a smile on my face, and basking in the delight of your unborn bastard
twins? Is that what you call an answer?’
‘I didn’t mean it that way and you know it.’
‘Well ... I don’t see any answer to what you’ve done to me. So,
please, just leave me alone and let me enjoy my drink in peace.’ She
poured the liquid into her glass and lifted it to her mouth, immediately
taking a long sip at it.
A spasm of guilt stabbed him as he continued to watch her. He was
the one who had turned her into a person she was not, and he was the
one who had to put a stop to it before it was too late. Without warning,
he jumped from his seat, and was almost running as he rounded the
table to where she was sitting, immediately reaching out with both
hands and attempting to grab the bottle from her hand.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ She wrestled with him, deter
mined to hold onto the bottle as if her whole life depended on it. Her
glass almost toppled over as they rocked the table. With one hand she
steadied it.
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He was unyielding. ‘I’m not going to let you drink this stuff. It’s not
good for you.’ So close were their faces that he could smell the liquor
on her breath. He knew right away that she had been drinking before
he arrived. His heart sank.
She regarded him with resentment engraved on her face. ‘What
do you know about what’s good for me? All you ever cared about was
yourself.’
‘That’s not true and you know it. I care about you, more than you
can imagine.’
‘So much so that you pursued another woman and fucked her until
you got her pregnant? Please, Maxwell, don’t give me that crap about
caring!’
‘Please ... Mandy.’
‘If you don’t let go of this bottle I’m going to scream so loud that
the entire neighbourhood will come flooding the house,’ she warned.
The grave tone in her voice told him she meant what she’d said.
Reluctantly, he released his grip on the bottle, and watched with
apprehension as she continued to swallow her drink.
No one spoke until she had finished her drink. The wounds he had
inflicted on her ran deep. Before she could deal with the horrid wound
of betrayal, other fresh wounds had erupted, each one more painful
than the one before. She wondered how women survived such injuries.
The quivering in her hands began to dissipate soon after she had
gulped the last drop of her drink. She refilled her glass, oblivious to the
disapproving look on Maxwell’s face. When she eventually spoke she
flaunted her arms in the air. ‘You didn’t come here to talk about my
drinking, did you? Let’s hear what you have to say for yourself. When
were you planning on telling me? On my birthday? Our anniversary?
When the twins were a year or two old?’
He sat back in his chair and looked her in the eye. ‘There was never
a single day that passed that I didn’t want to come clean with you. But
I was afraid, Mandy, very afraid that you might leave me.’ He sounded
sincere as he said it.
Her mouth tightened into a thin line. ‘I want you to be truthful
with me. What drove you to do it?’
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He made an enigmatic gesture with his hands and looked away,

and then looked back at her. ‘It was just a brainless sexual attraction.’
Her expression became serious. ‘By sexual attraction ... do you
mean lust?’
He hesitated, then nodded slowly. ‘I suppose you could call it that.’
‘I need a direct answer. Was it lust that drove you to this woman?’
No sooner had the words left her mouth than she regretted probing.
What if he said in all certainty that he did lust for Kristal? Would she
be able to understand it without feeling her heart breaking into pieces,
without her confidence as a wife and as a woman crashing out? But it
was too late to retract the question. She breathed in and crossed her
fingers under the table.
‘Yes.’ His outright admission cut deeply through her, more deeply
than he had intended. He saw the distress rise in her eyes. He rushed to
put her mind at ease. ‘But I don’t have any emotional connection with
her. It’s you I love, Mandy. It has always been you that I love.’
‘Oh please, Maxwell. This is a four-year relationship we’re talking
about here, not a one-night stand. How naïve do you think I am to
believe that you could chase after someone for so long without having
any emotional connection with her?’
‘You don’t seem to understand ...’
‘Then please help me to understand!’ Her voice was suddenly
raised at him.
‘It was just the thrill of it I was chasing, like any man out there.
Please believe me, Mandy. There was only this one time that I ever
cheated on you, you know that very well. Surely you can understand
that I’m only human and made a wrong decision.’
She made a sulky face. As someone who truly believed in love,
what she was hearing was utterly dreadful, sounding pretty much like
a nightmare you have after watching a disturbing late-night movie
and retiring to bed immediately afterwards. Silently, she was thinking:
Is that how cheating men think of the women they take to bed? She
raised her eyebrows and gazed at him as if seeing him for the first time.
Her eyes were filled with repulsion. He did not seem like the man she
had been married to and living with for ten years. The side of him
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that she never knew existed was steadily surfacing. It petrified her. He
seemed cold and ruthless. How could he have such little regard for a
woman who was carrying his unborn twin babies? How cruel could
he be as to lead her on for that long, until, out of her love for him, she
procreated? How could he live with himself knowing that he had put
someone’s life on hold while inwardly he knew all along that he had
no emotional feelings for her, and did not intend to spend the rest of
his life with her? She felt the bitter taste of bile in her mouth and had a
compelling urge to spit on his face.
There was a burning question at the tip of her tongue. Before she
could think it through or hold it back, it slipped out. ‘Did you enjoy it
when you made love to me, Maxwell? Or did you wistfully imagine it
was her you were actually fucking?’
‘You don’t have to torture me about this, please Mandy.’
There was a sickening silence. For what seemed like a full minute
Mandy sat there, her face hidden behind her hands to conceal the
dismay that had swallowed her up. Her mind started to float back to
the idyllic nights they shared in bed, making passionate love to each
other while she yielded her body and soul to him, unreservedly. And
all that time he had been sleeping with another woman, coming home
afterwards only to sleep with her! A gush of nausea swept through her.
She almost puked on the table; she covered her mouth and fled to the
bathroom.
When she returned seconds later to take her seat across from him
at the table, she was feeling dizzy from all the retching, holding on to
pieces of furniture for support. She glanced at Maxwell with rage in
her eyes. ‘What else have you been hiding from me? This is your only
chance to come clean with me.’
He moved uneasily in his seat. ‘I’ve told you everything you need to
know. And you already heard what that woman told you.’
Secretly, Mandy was glad that he was thoughtful enough to refrain
from saying his mistress’s name to her face. The mere mention of her
name would have sent her back to the bathroom, to puke again. She
might even have puked on his face. Her eyes were not leaving his face.
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‘I’m asking you for the second time. Are you sure there’s nothing else I
need to know, that you’ve been concealing from me?’
His eyes were darting like a thief caught in the act. ‘Nothing,’ he
replied in an almost inaudible voice.
From the pocket of her shirt, she pulled out the picture of the little
boy and tossed it across the table at him.
‘Would you care to tell me who this little boy is?’
Cold fear immobilised him. He sat there, simply looking at the
photograph on the table before him, without making any attempt to
pick it up. He knew that his answer would bludgeon their marriage to
death. There was no way Mandy was ever going to forgive him.
Mandy waited anxiously for his answer, her mouth twitching
uncontrollably at the sides. And when it did not seem like he was going
to give her one, she clenched her hand into a tight fist and banged it
hard on the table, startling him out of his catatonic state. ‘Cat got your
tongue? I asked you a question and need an answer. Who is the boy in
the picture?’
He bit his bottom lip. ‘He’s our son.’
Her rage multiplied. It almost caused her to leap from her chair.
Somehow she managed to restrain herself. ‘Let me get this straight.
Did you just say this boy is our son?’
‘I meant he is my son with her ... the woman.’ Once again, he
could not bring himself to mention her name. His face was soaked in
perspiration. He pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed it. He had
confirmed her worst nightmare. She lost all control. Something inside
her snapped, like an overstretched elastic band. What she did next she
was not able to comprehend later, for it was something she had never
done before, something she could not imagine ever doing.
She grabbed her empty vodka glass and threw it at his face with a
force she never thought she possessed.
He ducked his head in time, only to hear it crashing on the floor,
pieces of glass splattering all over the kitchen.
The silence that followed lasted much longer than the previous one.
It was intensely painful to her. Her heart was pounding hard against
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her ribs. She put her hand to her chest in a desperate attempt to slow
it down.
‘How old is the boy?’
There was a pause. He was staring at her but not seeing her.
She clutched the sides of the table and shook it like a crazed woman.
‘I said, how old is the boy?’
‘Four.’
‘You had a four-year-old son all this time we’ve been together and
you never mentioned a word about him? How could you do this to me,
Maxwell? How could you do this to our own son? Do you realise what
you’ve done to this family? You have wrecked two lives, and all for lust!’
He hunched his shoulders and hung his head in shame. The truth
was looking him in the eye. There was no running away from it.
She locked eyes with him. ‘You know, Maxwell, I loved you with
my whole heart. You were my first. I saved myself for you, and I gave
you my heart and my soul. But all you did was trample over them. And
I’ve been nothing but a good wife to you and a good mother to your
son. Is this how you repay me?’ The lump in her throat almost choked
her, causing her to pause and swallow hard, so hard it hurt. When she
spoke again her voice trembled. She was at the brink of tears. ‘You
deserve to be institutionalised. You’re a psychopath. You don’t know
right from wrong. I doubt if you have any shred of conscience in you.
You’re nothing but a child. My son doesn’t deserve a father like you
because he has better sense than you.’ She got to her feet and began
pacing the floor, only to return a minute later to take her seat back at
the table.
Maxwell knew at that instant and deep in his heart that he was
paying a high price for infidelity. He did not wish for that to happen
to any man. It had a way of eroding the good life you have had with
your wife, and all the good things you have done to her – forever. All
that remains in her mind is the monster you have become. Tears were
brimming in his eyes. He blinked them back, biting his bottom lip as
he did that. He knew he ought to say something deep and weighty to
mend the damage he had caused. But all he could come up with was an
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insubstantial apology. ‘I know there won’t be any use in saying this. But
for what it’s worth, I’m sorry, Mandy.’
‘Sorry is not enough. Did you ever think for one minute that a
bastard child could not be kept hidden forever, that eventually he
would surface with the most dreadful consequences?’
‘Eventually I was going to tell you about him.’
‘When, Maxwell? Were you waiting for the right time, when the
twins were born, so you could take my hand and say, by the way, honey,
I have three children that I’ve been hiding from you?’
She was seething with rage like a provoked rattlesnake in a zoo
cage. At that instant of fury she flung her arm up and slapped him hard
on the face. When she tried to slap him again, he blocked the attack
with the back of his arm.
She fidgeted for a while in her chair. ‘For the very last time, is there
anything else I need to know about?’
The undertone in her voice sent a chill up his spine. He realised
his problems were multiplying. He was not sure anymore what she
had up her sleeve; he knew he just had to come clean with her. It was
becoming more and more embarrassing to meet her gaze. He looked
down at his hands and began tapping his fingers nervously on the table.
‘I borrowed some money from our investment account.’
She could hear her own heart beating. ‘You mean, stole it from our
account!’
‘I was going to repay it someday, I promise. But I guess that doesn’t
change what I did, and for whatever it’s worth, I hate myself. You
couldn’t hate me anymore than I already hate myself.’
‘You bet I could. And if I may I ask, what did you do with all that
money?’ She asked even though she already knew the answer. It was an
ensnaring question, and he knew it. There was no doubt in his mind
that she had been in communication with the bank and had all the
answers in her head, but wanted to hear him confess his sins to her
face.
He took a moment before he answered, pondering the answer. His
mind was racing. Just when she thought she was never going to get an
answer from him, he said, ‘I bought her a house.’
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She thought to herself: At least he told the truth. But that did not
make her feel any better. Instead, it only tripled the bitterness she was
feeling inside. She searched for something to say to him but found she
had run out of words. It was time he left her house.
He must have read her mind. When she opened her mouth to
speak, he put a finger on his lips, beckoning her to be quiet. ‘Listen,
Mandy. I know I’ve made mistakes. I’m not perfect, nobody is. But
mistakes are not the end of the road. They’re just detours until you get
back onto the right road.’
‘And how do you propose getting back onto the right road with a
bastard child on your back and two more about to be born? How would
you get back onto the right road without turning our lives upside down
and into a complete nightmare? Don’t you know that such children
are not additions to the family, but invasions, only meant to overhaul
people’s lives?’
‘But Mandy ...’
She cut him short. ‘Tell me how you’re going to explain to our son
that he has a half-brother and two half-sisters years younger than him
and born outside the confines of our marriage, without creating some
confusion inside him as he grows older? Do you want him to grow
up believing that infidelity is something a woman should put up with,
some kind of a marital norm a woman should turn a blind eye to and
carry on with as if nothing happened?’
She paused and waited for his response, and when it did not come,
she continued. ‘It’s an enormous responsibility as it is to raise and
support one child, and costly too. And I can imagine it’s an even bigger
responsibility, and one that’s becoming increasingly costly, to support
three more children. Even if I were to find it in my heart to forgive you,
where would you get the time to spend with these children? And the
money to support them, together with their mother, without affecting
our joint budget and sacrificing all the good things that Danny is
entitled to as the only child in the family?’ She was bitter, very bitter,
and with good reason.
He knew, deep in his heart, that everything she was saying was the
absolute truth. As if by mutual agreement, they pulled back their chairs
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and began walking back and forth across the kitchen floor. She had
her arms crossed in front of her breasts, head facing down, and was
deep in thought. His fists were balled in the pockets of his jacket. There
was a troubled look on his face. He was thinking silently: If only she
could believe me when I say I’m truly sorry for what I did. The truth
is, if he were to die and come back, he would wish to come back as the
honourable man she had married years before the damn bitch stepped
into his life and turned it into a horrendous nightmare.
He knew he had one last opportunity to turn the situation around.
He turned and walked slowly toward her. They stood facing each other,
inches apart, his eyes piercing right through hers. He opened his heart
and poured out his feelings. ‘Whatever you may think of me, I want
you to know that you’re the only woman I’ve truly loved, whom I still
love and will always love. I will do anything to get help. There are many
kinds of counselling. I can go to a counsellor, see a therapist ... anything
to help me to do things differently and better.’ It did not even shame
him when hysterical tears started trickling down his cheeks. He could
not remember the last time he’d ever truly cried.
But his words sounded empty to her, like the empty growling
of a hungry stomach. She knew, even as he was speaking, and from
somewhere deep within herself, that their marriage was over. Even if
she’d had a few days to think it through, she knew her mind was made
up.
‘You can make things better by taking yourself and your briefcase
out of my house and back to your mistress. Both of you ventured into
dangerous waters a long time ago. Unluckily for you, swimming clear
of them is virtually impossible. Your mistress has made sure of that by
sealing your filthy relationship with the children she bore you.’
He stood rooted to the spot, simply staring at her, knowing that he
had tried everything he could have to make things right with her. His
heart bled as he watched her pick up his briefcase and shove it into his
hand. Half-heartedly he grasped it. She walked ahead of him, leading
him to the front door. ‘I’m sorry, Maxwell,’ she said without bothering
to look over her shoulder. ‘Things can never go back to how they were.
The damage you’ve caused to this marriage is immense and beyond
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repair. I hope you find your happiness in your new life, with your new
family. I’ve packed all your belongings into boxes and left them in the
guest house. They’ll be couriered to you. Just make sure you forward
me your physical address.’
Without giving it a thought, he grabbed her by the shoulder and
whirled her around. ‘Please don’t do this to us, Mandy. We can work
this out. I know we can, you and me ... we’ve come too far to allow
something like this to tear us apart.’
‘You should have thought of that before you indulged in your
flagrant acts of adultery. And don’t you ever touch me again.’
He tried one more time, desperately, to cajole her. ‘I understand
perfectly how you’re feeling right now. Perhaps if you slept on this, just
for one night, you would be able to think rationally the next—’ She cut
him short. ‘I couldn’t think more rationally than I’m doing right now.
My mind is already made up. It’s over between us.’
‘Please, Mandy.’
She stopped in her tracks and turned to face him, arms folded
before her. In a tear-jerking voice she said, ‘I want to know one thing
before you go, Maxwell. If the tables were turned, and I asked you to
forgive me, would you?’
He looked down at his shoes. He always looked down at his shoes
when he did not know what to say.
‘I didn’t think so. Your manly pride wouldn’t allow you to. Now, I
really need to be alone. Please go, Maxwell. Go, and never come back.’
When she reached the door she opened it and held it wide open
for him.
‘This is not the last time you’ll hear from me. Whether you like it
or not we’re going to talk about this again. This is about our future. We
have a future together, you and I. Be sure to find me here when you get
back from work. I’ll arrange for dinner to be delivered at six.’
She almost chuckled. ‘And watch me choke over it? Oh no, Maxwell!
Dinner with you will turn out to be disastrous. By the way, don’t waste
your precious time trying to sneak back here because you won’t be able
to get into the house.’
‘Meaning what?’
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‘I’ve changed all the locks.’

‘You wouldn’t do that. This is my house too, you know.’
‘Not anymore. Consider the house you bought that bitch of yours
with my money your home from now on. I want a divorce. God knows
I have sufficient grounds for that.’
He rubbed the side of his face vigorously with a nervous hand,
knowing it would be senseless even to consider contesting the divorce.
He had given her all the ammunition she needed; she was now in
complete control over him. Besides, divorce courts were more lenient
to women wronged by cheating husbands. He stood to lose so much
more than just the house he had built for her. His mouth went dry. He
craved a cold beer but knew better than to walk back to the kitchen for
one.
‘I want to see my son,’ he said, not sure if he really wanted to see
Danny at an overwhelming time like this, or if he was deliberately
stalling. His wife was throwing him out of his own home and there
seemed to be nothing he could do about it but watch with a sickening
feeling of helplessness. It was more than he could take.
‘Danny is not here. Did you really think I was going to have the boy
around the house and let him see me in such a pitiful state?’
‘Where is he? Where’s my son?’ His voice was suddenly raised.
‘He’s spending the night at Sharon and Robert’s place. The twins
had a birthday party yesterday.’
For an instant he appeared reassured. Robert was one of his best
buddies. But the next instant he was agitated again. ‘I hope this is not
one of your attempts to keep my son away from me.’
‘You’re the only one who’ll estrange yourself from him.’
He walked to the sink, splashed cold water onto his burning face
and returned to face her as he mopped himself with a paper towel.
‘I may have messed everything up, Mandy. But I’m certainly a good
father to my son and I intend to keep it that way.’
‘I hope you do, for your own sake, and for Danny.’
He regarded her. ‘I still say you’re making the biggest mistake of
your life. I love you, Mandy. And I care about you, you must know I do.
And I know that deep down in your heart you love me too.’
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‘The only mistake I ever made, one that I’ll live to regret for the rest
of my life, is letting you into my life and into my heart. Your mistress
can have you all to herself. You deserve each other. You don’t have to
sneak out for it anymore. Now, get out!’ She stormed to the front door,
pulled it open and held it wide open for him with her shoulder slanting
against its smooth edge.
As he approached the door, he looked nervously around the room
as if he had forgotten something. For a long moment they gazed at
each other. There was a lot of pain in their eyes. The irony of it was that
deep within their hearts they still loved each other. But sometimes love
alone is not sufficient to sustain a relationship.
She remained standing at the door and watched as he slowly made
his way to the parked car, her hand clutching the door handle so tightly
that her knuckles began to feel numb. She kept watching him as he
drove the car out of the gate and out of her life, for good. She could
do no more than cover her face with both her hands, tears of despair
tracing down her cheeks.
One journey was over; somewhere in the future, another one was
going to begin. She had no inkling at all what the future held for her and
little Danny. But whatever happened, she knew she could always look
back to this moment and say she had given her marriage everything.
One thing was certain: she was never going to allow any man to break
her heart the way Maxwell had done, ever again. She was a wounded
woman, determined to remain guarded.
She locked the door behind her and walked tentatively to her
favourite sofa in the living room, at the window overlooking a neatly
kept garden, and threw her lifeless body onto it. She curled there
like a foetus in its mother’s womb. The house suddenly felt quiet and
desolate. The only sound was the tick of the clock in the living room,
and her pounding heart.
For a long while, she pondered her confrontation with Maxwell,
wondering if he had any impression at all of just how much he had
hurt and disappointed her. Before she knew it, and much against her
spirit, her mouth broke open and she dissolved into tears. She cried
for herself, for her marriage, and for the hopelessness of it all. It was
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the ringing of the telephone that cut short her sobbing, piercingly
upsetting the stillness in the house. She let it ring until whoever it was
relented and replaced the receiver.
As the sobs continued to wriggle her shoulders, the reflection of
her son’s face appeared before her. A new kind of pain ripped her heart
apart, leaving her breathing deeply with her open mouth. He was going
to grow up without a father in his life, while Maxwell’s bastard children
would be surrounded by their father’s love. He would be right there at
their every waking hour, to guide them as they grew up. What a great
feeling it was going to be for them to know that their father would
always be there whenever they needed him.
She had no doubt in her mind that Maxwell would provide well
for his son, but no amount of money would make up for his absence
in Danny’s life. Throughout his childhood, Danny would have to deal
with difficult questions about his father. Children could be mean and
cruel, most of the time boasting about their fathers and what they did
together on weekends. And when that happened, poor Danny would
have very little to say about his own father, if anything at all. Only
heaven knew how much it would affect him emotionally.
When dusk came, Mandy felt too listless to get to her feet and
switch on the lights in the house. The word ‘lust’ kept echoing in her
head. It was evident that her husband no longer desired her sexually.
Why else would he pursue another woman for so long? If he was no
longer interested in her sexually, why would another man ever desire
her? She thought of her age; her face fell. She was thirty-five. In just
a few years, she would be forty. She might as well accept that she
was going to spend the rest of her life all alone and miserable. The
thought caused her more pain. As the pain intensified, she kicked off
her sandals, rose from her seat and staggered to the kitchen, switching
on the lights in the living room and the hallway along the way. Their
sudden brightness momentarily blinded her. She shut and rubbed her
eyes with the back of her hands.
As she stepped into the kitchen, a growling in her stomach
reminded her that she had not had anything to eat for hours. But it
was not food she craved. She needed something that could take away
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her pain. It was overbearing. Her eyes fell on the vodka bottle on the
table. That was exactly what she needed. She brought out a glass from
the cupboard, rinsed it at the sink and pulled a chair at the table. In the
hours that followed, she drowned her sorrow with the liquor. After all,
what was the rush in retiring to an empty bedroom and to a cold bed,
only to lie there in the dark and look up at the ceiling, with no one to
talk to, and no one to hold her in his arms and love her?
The night was turning chilly; she began to shiver. Her head was
spinning. It seemed as if all the alcohol she was consuming was going
straight up to her head instead of down to her stomach. In the end she
could no longer hold the liquor bottle without fearing that it would
slip from her hand, topple onto the table and roll onto the floor. But
she carried on drinking – until it became increasingly difficult to keep
her eyes open. Drowsiness was creeping over her. It was time she went
to bed. She imagined it might be nearing midnight. When she lifted
her eyes to check the clock on the wall across the table her vision was
bleary. She could faintly make out two clocks standing alongside each
other, each one showing a different time.
With great effort she pulled back her chair and lurched to her
feet. When she reached the middle of the room, she felt a sudden
terrible weakness in her legs. She looked around her with growing
apprehension in her eyes – there was nothing to hold on to to prevent
herself from falling. She landed on the floor, arms flung before her, and
began to vomit as if she would never stop. The tiles beneath her felt
cold against her flesh.
When her vomiting eventually subsided, she reached out and
grasped the leg of the table tightly, hoisting herself to her feet. She was
more resolute than ever to make it to her bedroom. She had not taken
more than three steps when she slipped on her vomit and fell back onto
the floor. For a long while she lay there, cold sweat breaking out all over
her body. There was nothing else to do but crawl.
By the time she reached the bottom of the staircase, she knew
that she would not make it to her bedroom. She thought of Danny’s
bedroom and began crawling in its direction, inwardly grateful that
she had had the forethought to switch on all the lights in the hallway
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before she indulged in her drinking. When eventually she reached

Danny’s bed, she leaned with her back against it and began wriggling
out of her clothes. They were soaked in cold perspiration, causing her
body to shiver even more. Clad only in her underwear, she climbed
into bed, pulling the bedcovers over her head straight away.
Sleep came quickly.
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CHAPTER SIX
Maxwell’s eyes overflowed with tears as he drove slowly into the next
town, miles away from his home. He had no idea where he was going
or wanted to go, and circled the streets while deeply engrossed in his
muddled thoughts. He could not get the vivid image of his wife holding
the liquor bottle out of his mind. It continued to gnaw at him. He knew
what Mandy had said was right, that he had ruined their lives. Not only
had he caused her pain, but he had driven her to drinking. He feared
for her safety and her life, wishing he had the new keys to the house so
he could go back and see if she was all right.
So profoundly absorbed was he in his thoughts that he nearly drove
through a red traffic light. He screeched the car to a stop just in time.
While waiting for the light to turn green, he thought of calling Tom,
Mandy’s best friend, and asking him to drive past the house to check
on her. But he decided against it, thinking how preposterous it would
sound when he had to explain to Tom that he had cheated on his wife
and was now afraid she was drinking herself to death.
Hot, unrestrained tears began trickling down his cheeks. He was
thinking, if only Mandy had believed him when he said he loved her,
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because he did. It had been easy for her to say his mistress could have
him all to herself because she had no idea just how much he hated her
now, more than he had ever hated anyone his entire life. If it had not
been for her, he would not be in this mess. But what choice did he have,
other than to go back to her? His wife had thrown him out into the
street, into the cold. He needed a place to lay his head until he figured
out what to do next. One thing was certain, though: he was going to
remove himself from his mistress’s life. All he needed to do was hope
and pray that Mandy would somehow find it in her heart to pardon
him and take him back.
Disgusted with himself, he swerved, then drove speedily in the
direction of his mistress’s house. All he wanted was to get to the house
and into bed. At seven-thirty he pulled into the garage and walked
slowly into the house. His briefcase was heavy in his hand; dread filled
each step.
Kristal was in the dining room, walking barefoot as she laid the
dinner table for her and David. As was the case on most evenings,
her feet were swollen to a point where she could not find anything to
put on. Her back was aching, her muscles continually contracting in
agonising spasms from her pregnancy. She could scarcely wait for the
day to arrive when her waters would break and the first contraction
would hit her body. The radio played in the living room, so she didn’t
hear the door open and close, didn’t see Maxwell until he was standing
a few inches away from her. Involuntarily she startled.
‘Did you have to sneak up on me like that? You scared the hell out
of me.’ Her expression showed utter fright. But she collected herself
immediately.
‘Were you expecting someone else?’ He was growling at her.
‘Not unless you said you were coming by. And you didn’t say, did
you?’ She walked to him and gave him a warm hug.
At the feel of her arms around him, something inside him hardened
and froze. It was as if some deadly snake had just wrapped itself around
his body. Very slowly, he wrenched away from her.
‘Will you be staying a bit longer with us?’ she asked, knowing how
he always rushed to get away as soon as he had popped in to say hello to
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her and little David. It was as if someone expected him to come home
and would be furious if he did not. He never ceased to puzzle her. If
she did not know better, that his wife had passed away, she would have
suspected that he could be married and was concealing it from her. But
there was this innocence about him each time she looked into his dark
eyes, an innocence that always dispelled her suspicions.
He nodded his head without bothering to answer.
With a pang, she looked guiltily at the two plates on the table. ‘I
only prepared a meal for me and David. But I could whip something
up quickly for you.’
‘I’m not hungry. You go ahead and eat.’ He knew deep down in his
heart that even if she had prepared enough food for the three of them,
he would not have had the desire to touch it. Food was the last thing on
his mind, especially if prepared by her.
‘It’s no trouble, really. I can fix you a sandwich or something.’ Her
evenings at home with her son were always lonely, and each time
Maxwell came to see them she would do anything to keep him from
rushing back home. She was even thinking of sweet-talking him into
watching a movie with her.
‘You heard me, for heaven’s sake! I said I’m not hungry. Do you
have a problem with your hearing?’ He was a very bitter man.
She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head lightly, wondering
what was troubling him. He always carried himself like a true
gentleman, never one to yell at her unless she had done something that
really pissed him off.
The evening was turning cold. At the far end of the living room,
and close to the fireplace, was a rocking chair, his favourite seat in the
house. He walked over and threw his hefty weight onto it, straight away
stretching out his hands before him and warming himself at the fire
Kristal had lit. There was a long and uneasy silence during which he sat
staring bleakly at the blazing fire. But he could sense her eyes on him,
piercing right through him as if she was reading his mind. Although
she was never one to unnerve him, she unnerved him a great deal that
evening. It enraged him. He whirled around and raised his eyes, glaring
at her. ‘Get me a cold beer, woman. Don’t just stand there and look
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at me.’ He said it with aggression in his voice that stunned even Kristal.
She stood there, perplexed, holding her breath for what seemed like
a whole minute before breathing out again. She was quickly losing her
temper. He had been in a strange mood from the moment he walked
into the house. ‘Why don’t you fetch it yourself, you thick-head?’ she
snapped back at him. She was not about to allow herself to be hectored
by him.
She watched as he strode to the kitchen, her head shaking with
annoyance. Seconds later, he returned to his chair with an icy can
of beer in his hand. She walked over and stood beside him, hands
supporting her aching back. ‘I’m going to keep David away from school
for a week,’ she said, a moment after she had regained her composure,
refusing to allow his temper to ruin her evening.
‘What for?’ he asked, as he lifted his beer to his mouth without
bothering to turn and look at her.
‘He has chicken pox.’
‘Well, you do what you have to do. You’re his mother and you know
best.’
She looked briskly at him and was about to ask what was bothering
him when David appeared in the room. At the sight of his father, he
ran over and threw himself at him, arms tightening around his neck.
His mother had applied calamine lotion to his face and all over his
body to ease the itching of the chicken-pox rash.
For a short while, Maxwell held him in his arms but made very
little effort to show interest in him, not even bothering to inquire how
he was feeling. He had too many worries of his own. Kristal noticed,
but brushed it aside. She thought he must have had a bad day in court.
She and David ate their meal in silence while Maxwell drowned his
sorrows in his beer. By the time they had finished eating and she was
clearing the dishes from the table, he had already consumed six cans of
beer. It began to worry her. She had never seen him drink like that, and
without eating anything. She waited until she had settled David in his
bed before she confronted him. ‘Is something bothering you, darling?
You’ve been acting quite strangely since you arrived here,’ she asked in
a gentle voice, jolting him out of his deep thoughts.
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He forced the hate and anger out of his voice. ‘I’ve come home to
stay with you and David, permanently.’ His voice was lifeless.
For a moment Kristal thought it was the beer talking. ‘I don’t
understand.’ She collected the empty cans in a rubbish bag.
‘I thought you’d be happy to hear this. It’s what you’ve always
wanted, isn’t it?’ He was now glaring at her, finding it increasingly
difficult to conceal his anger.
‘I didn’t say I wasn’t happy, but don’t you think you should at least
have discussed it with me first?’
He remained thoughtful for a minute. She was not as dumb as he
had initially thought. He made a point to be more tactful with her lest
he found himself out in the street again. His tone of voice when he
answered was unexpectedly soft and subtle.
‘Listen to me, Kristal. I just thought I needed to be here when the
twins are born. You will need me to help with their night feeds and
with changing their diapers.’ He shrank back immediately afterwards,
unable to remember waking up in the middle of the night and changing
Danny’s diaper, or feeding him his milk. Mandy did all that without
complaining, allowing him to enjoy his sleep in peace so he could wake
up in the morning all fresh and rested for his appearances in court. She
was undeniably the great woman behind her husband’s success.
Kristal was silent as she pondered what he just said, imagining it
was the most considerate thing he had ever said to her. But still, it did
not add up. How could he expect her to believe that he was sincere
when in the years they had been together he had never even introduced
her to his family or friends? His mother and siblings had not even met
David. Just last night she had to put her foot down and hide his car
keys to make him spend the night with them. She noticed how restless
he had been, tossing and turning in bed and unable to fall asleep, as
if he wished he was in his own bed at his own home. Now, all of a
sudden, he comes and makes a bizarre announcement about wanting
to stay with them permanently! She shook her head in amazement,
wondering if she would ever get to a point where she could safely say
she understood him.
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‘When did you make this decision?’ she asked with mounting
suspicion.
He fidgeted uneasily in his chair. ‘It’s something I’ve been consid
ering for weeks. But I finally made up my mind this afternoon at work.’
‘And you couldn’t call me and let me know about it?’ She paced the
living room floor, her feet swelling up even more as she did that.
‘I meant it to be a lovely surprise. Do you really think it’s never
concerned me that we lived apart for all these years? That I wasn’t there
to help drive David to school and to read him bedtime stories? I love
you, Kristal. I really want us to be a family.’
He almost choked on his own lies. If only Mandy could hear him
now. She had been right about him. Not only was he a psychopath as
she had alleged, but a pathological liar too. It was time he visited a
shrink, he thought to himself.
But his tone of voice had sounded so convincing that Kristal
instantly believed him. For one fleeting second she thought she even
caught a glimmer of burning passion in his eyes. Her heart swelled
with affection for him. She let go of her doubts. After all, he was right.
Having him home with them was something she had always wanted
and prayed for. Finally they were going to be a family. Overtaken by
emotions and a rush of relief at the same time, she walked over and
sat on his lap, flinging her arms lovingly around his neck. The chair
squeaked threateningly under their combined weight.
She gazed into his eyes. ‘Well ... I must say I’m glad you’ve finally
come to your senses, darling. What about your clothes? Did you
remember to bring them with you?’
He scratched the side of his face. He had not thought of that
and could not give an immediate answer. It came as a relief when he
remembered that he had actually texted Mandy Kristal’s address a few
moments after he had pulled the car into her garage. He was sure she
would not hesitate to get them delivered first thing in the morning just
so she got them out of her house, out of her sight. He sighed deeply and
lied shamelessly. ‘I went to the house before I came here and asked my
housekeeper to pack them into boxes. They’ll be delivered tomorrow
morning.’
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A spark lit her eyes. ‘We really should celebrate this, my darling. If
it wasn’t for this pregnancy that’s wearing me down and causing me to
feel so wretched inside, I’d give you that steamy lovemaking we always
had before I got into this condition. But wait till it’s all over. I promise
I’m going to make it all up to you.’
He cringed inside, thinking: It’s that steamy lovemaking that got
me into this mess in the first place. His hate for her doubled. He turned
his head away so she could not see the blazing hate in his eyes.
‘Do you reckon we could start setting a date for our wedding?’
‘What?’ He almost fell off the chair. How could she even think
of marriage when he was mourning the imminent death of his own
marriage to his loving wife? He remembered that she had no idea that
he was a married man, and pulled himself together.
‘Not right away, of course,’ she replied when she noticed the fright
in his eyes. ‘After the twins are born and as soon as I’ve managed to get
rid of the babies’ weight.’
‘The babies’ weight, hey?’ he said as he mopped the sweat from
his forehead. The notion of marriage had completely taken him aback.
But he only had himself to blame. He’d mislead her into believing he
wanted them to be a family.
‘Yeah, we can do it together, darling. You can help me to lose the
weight faster,’ she was saying with nothing but affection in her voice,
her arms tightening around his neck as she let her head rest on his
shoulder.
Maxwell realised that this moment was a good time for him to
summon the courage as a man and to tell her the truth. He hesitated,
knowing how much it was going to paralyse her with shock to learn
that he had been married all the time he was with her, and that his wife
was very much alive. She might even do as Mandy had done, and throw
him out of the house. Where else could he go? He could not go back
home and put up with his nagging mother, and the idea of waking up
in a cold hotel room did not appeal to him. He had to do what he had
to do, even if it meant buying more time with her until he figured out
what to do next. When next he spoke, his voice was without aggression
and his attitude was polite. ‘About this marriage thing, let’s take one
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step at a time. We have all the time to plan this. Right now we need to
concern ourselves with getting to know each other better, as a family.’
If she was disappointed with the cold response he gave her, she did
not show it. ‘I agree with you, darling. But we shouldn’t wait too long.’
‘I promise it won’t be long. Just be patient.’
Suddenly he craved a cigarette. He pulled one out and lit it. He was
distant as he smoked, as if he was not physically there with her. One
thing was certain: Kristal never reproached him for smoking in the
house as his wife always did. She rose from his lap and pulled a twin
rocking chair beside him, and then sank onto it, eyes glancing into the
fire while her hand gently stroked his hair. But he found that for once
he did not enjoy the cigarette. The nicotine tasted bitter in his mouth.
After only a few puffs, he stubbed out the half-smoked cigarette and
waited until the smoke had cleared before he spoke again. The cool
breeze from an open window blew in and scattered the cigarette ash
all over the living room floor. Neither of them could find anything to
talk about. It was as if they were two strangers put together in one
room and left there to get to know each other. Maxwell needed to be
alone with his thoughts. He got slowly to his feet, afraid to stir up the
arthritis in his knee. ‘I’m going to bed,’ he announced, then stumbled
away, leaving her staring after him with a puzzled look on her face.
‘Remember to close the windows and switch off the lights.’
‘I’ll be with you in a minute,’ she shouted after him. But for a long
while she remained sitting on the chair, rocking it back and forth, and
thinking. She was not going to accept what he said and wait much
longer to walk down the aisle. It was easier for him to suggest that they
wait simply because he had once tasted what marriage was like and was
now careful not to hasten and jump into another one. It was utterly
different for her. In just a year, she was turning thirty. For too long now
she had been standing on the other side of the fence, only imagining
how it was to be married. And now that the opportunity had finally
presented itself, she was determined to grasp it with both hands.
A miniature smile appeared on her lips. She spoke softly to herself,
‘I’m going to be Kristal Richardson. At long last, I’m going to be Mrs
Kristal Richardson. And finally my son and the unborn twins will have
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his name!’ She thought of her friends and wondered how they would
react when she made the announcement. And when she imagined
Maxwell lying in her bed, half naked, she bubbled with deep affection
for him. Suddenly she longed to feel his warm body brushing softly
against hers, his arms holding her tenderly. She had almost forgotten
about her aching feet and back as she leapt to her feet, hurriedly closing
the windows and switching off the lights on her way to the bedroom.
Maxwell lay in bed with his mind on the alert. As soon as he heard
the bedroom door open, he shut his eyes, pretending to be fast asleep.
Through his half-open eyes he watched as she stepped into the dimly
lit room. He waited while she undressed, and until she had switched
off the lamp, before he opened his eyes again. His body flinched as
she climbed into bed beside her, wishing he could rather sleep on the
couch.
She tapped his shoulder lightly. ‘Darling, are you asleep already?’
she whispered, her arm gently rubbing the side of his face. He faked
a snore. Not wishing to disturb his sleep, she groped for his chin and
kissed him softly on his full lips before turning to give him her back.
He lay awake in the dark, his mind shifting from his mistress back
to his wife. He recognised that it was only a matter of time before she
got over her pain and sorrow and moved on with her life. She was a
beautiful woman. No one could dispute that. Soon, some man would
come her way and sweep her off her feet; someone who would cherish
her and treat her as a woman needs to be treated, and be faithful to
her. His heart constricted in painful spasms. He could not imagine her
in another man’s arms. Neither could he bear the thought of his son
looking up to some strange man as his stepfather. He himself had never
wanted a son who was not his own. He had no control of the tears that
began to well up in his eyes and dribble down his cheeks. They were
tears of hopelessness. He sobbed in silence, covering his head with the
bedclothes, his hand tight over his mouth to conceal the sobbing.
The night dragged on; he tossed and turned in bed. Much as he
yearned for his sleep and did all he could to clear his mind, disorderly
thoughts kept him awake. He listened with envy as Kristal continued
to snore softly in her sleep, wishing it were him sleeping so peacefully.
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Once, in her sleep, Kristal shifted and snuggled under his shoulder,
her one arm stretching out to rest on his bare chest. Her flesh felt
warm against his. The muscles in his stomach tightened into knots.
He removed her arm and moved away from her, and faced the wall.
Secretly he was thinking: How could I have been so foolish as to allow
her in my life? Why couldn’t I just get what I wanted from her and then
walk away like all the other men in her life did? Why did I have to be
the one to father her children when it did not happen with any of the
men who took her to bed before me? Now here I am, lying alongside
her, yet I feel nothing for her anymore, and can barely tolerate her
touching me!
The painful reality was that they never really had anything in
common. It was their steamy sex that had brought them together in the
first place, and it was all that they ever talked about, or thought about.
And now that the lust they felt for each other had died, they could
hardly hold a sensible conversation. All she could ever talk about was
how her pregnancy was killing her, and how wretched she was feeling
from her aching back.
When he woke up the next morning he had no recollection of
falling asleep. His eyelids were puffy and his eyes were red, as if he was
suffering from some kind of infection. There was an excruciating pain
in his head. He caught his reflection in the dressing-table mirror as he
got out of bed and his mouth broke open in sheer disbelief. He seemed
to have aged ten years overnight!
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CHAPTER SEVEN
Mandy slept deeply.

Her intoxicated body felt as if it was floating in bed with nothing
to hold on to. In the middle of the night she awoke after dreaming
that she held Maxwell’s unborn twin girls in her arms, chortling and
chuckling at them, while Danny was sitting hunched on the floor at the
corner of the room with his back to his mother and the little girls, tears
brimming in his eyes. He was openly rejecting the babies, not able to
bring himself to catch a single glimpse at them. Much as his mother
beckoned him to come to them, he refused, and in the end started
to throw temper tantrums, causing the babies to cry with fright. The
dream had seemed so real that it left her shoulders shaking. For a while
she sat straight up in bed, arms hugged around her, afraid to fall back
to sleep lest the terrifying dream came back to haunt her.
As the clock continued to tick and the minutes passed as slowly as
they came, she realised it was more terrifying sitting in the dark with
eyes wide open than lying under the covers with her eyes firmly shut.
She fell back on the pillows and pulled the bedcovers over her head,
listening to her racing heart. When she still could not fall asleep, she
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spoke out softly, gently assuring herself, ‘This was just a bad dream and
nothing real, Mandy. Just pull yourself together and get back to sleep.’
Sleep finally came again. Before long, she was snoring softly
with her mouth half-open. But there was no escaping the nightmare:
Maxwell was in the bedroom with his mistress. The door creaked open
a few inches and Mandy heard some loud noises. It opened wider and
she saw them in bed, lying on top of the bedcovers, both naked. He was
atop her, and inside her. She watched with terror in her eyes as they
continued to make love, bodies rocking together in one rhythm. The
sound of their groaning and moaning carried through the door. When
she could bear it no more she clasped both her hands to her ears. But
somehow their noises seemed to find their way through her hands,
driving her close to hysteria. Before she knew it, she had her hands
clenched into fists and was screaming, ‘Stop it! Just stop, you two!’ At
the sound of her hysterical voice, they whirled around to look at her,
and when they caught sight of her, they began to laugh at her, softly at
first, and then more and more loudly and harshly.
She awoke completely horrified, her whole body drenched in
perspiration. Her hands touched her cheeks and she felt real tears
flowing down her face and converging underneath her chin. So scared
was she of the dark that she leaned over and switched on the side
lamp, immediately glancing around the room as though expecting to
see Maxwell and his mistress there. She lifted herself onto her elbows
and propped her back on the pillows. She was in Danny’s bedroom,
in his small bed, clad only in her underwear. She had not the slightest
recollection of how she’d landed there. Her head was throbbing. She
tried to make sense of it, when then the memory came rushing back
to her. She could do no more than place a pillow over her mouth and
scream.
Afterwards, she was more determined than ever not to allow
Maxwell to turn her into a person she was not. Anger propelled her out
of bed and down the stairs to the kitchen. She had a warm winter sheet
wrapped around her half-naked body. No sooner had she stepped into
the kitchen than she caught sight of the half-empty vodka bottle on
the table. Instantly, her whole body cringed; the nausea very nearly
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returned. She grabbed the bottle and hurried to pour it into the sink.
She was tempted to clear out the rest of the liquor from Maxwell’s bar
in the same manner, but managed to restrain herself. Every bottle was
worth a sizable amount of money. She could give them away to her
friends instead of having them go to waste.
As her anger began to settle down, she filled the kettle and plucked
it on. While waiting for it to boil, she strolled to the window and peeped
through the curtains. The night outside seemed so peaceful. It seemed
as if she was the only person in the entire city who lacked peace. She
moved abruptly from the window, feeling sorry for herself.
She brought the medicine box from the cupboard drawer and
rummaged inside for pain tablets. Her hand pulled out the sedatives
that the doctor had given her earlier. She sighed, thinking that was
exactly what she needed to help get her back to sleep. With a tall glass
of water she washed the sedative and some headache tablets down her
throat.
A few seconds later, she was sitting at the kitchen table with a
steaming mug of tea in her hand. The painful nightmares came back
to haunt her. But she refused to allow them. She sat back in her chair
with her arms crossed over her chest and looked straight ahead at the
blank wall across the room, eyes not blinking, and blocked them out of
her mind. She maintained that position for what seemed like the entire
night. And when eventually the sedative began to take full control of
her body, her head increasingly light with drowsiness, she finished her
tea and stumbled back to Danny’s bedroom, immediately switching off
the lamp as she crept into bed.
Her sleep came as soon as her head hit the pillows. It was serene,
without haunting nightmares. She awoke in the morning to a loud
ringing of the telephone downstairs in the living room. Bright sunlight
penetrated Danny’s thin curtains. She knew without having to check the
clock on the wall that it must have gone past nine o’ clock. The sedative
had crashed her out minutes after she had taken it. The throbbing in
her head had miraculously quietened down. Even her heart felt much
lighter. As she got out of bed, she yawned and stretched gratifyingly.
But her stomach rumbled with hunger. Her last meal had been at the
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god-forsaken restaurant where she’d walked in on her husband and his

pathetic mistress. The mere thought of them brought out goosebumps
all over her skin. She shivered despite the warm weather.
She hurried upstairs to answer the telephone from the extension
in her bedroom.
‘Is that Mrs Mandy Richardson?’ a man asked hesitantly.
‘Yes. Who’s calling?’
‘Do you mind answering a few questions about the series of events
that happened yesterday?’
‘What series of events are you referring to? And who the hell are
you?’ Her senses were on the alert.
‘I’m calling from—’ The connection was cut abruptly. It might have
been the result of a poor network, because when the phone rang again,
Mandy answered it but the voice from the other end of the line could
not come through. In the end she put the phone down, slamming
the receiver so hard it almost cracked. She remained sitting on the
edge of the bed, thinking how weird it was that a total stranger had
demanded some kind of comment from her. She was perturbed and
still pondering the bizarre phone call moments later as she ran the
water in the bathtub, and long after she was all washed and dressed
and brushing her hair.
Her stomach continued to roar with hunger, but she lacked the
enthusiasm to prepare a meal herself. She thought of the coffee shop
down the road. The breakfast there was yummy, and they made the
best coffee in town. Her mouth started to water. But when it struck her
that she might have to walk all the way there, her emotions dampened.
Her car was still parked at the office. Henry was only bringing it back
at lunchtime.
It was a warm, sunny Saturday morning. She was wearing khaki
shorts and a matching floral khaki shirt. Her long shiny hair was held
back in a ponytail. For someone who had suffered terrifying nightmares
for half the night, she looked pretty, like a porcelain doll. As she stepped
outside through the front door, the bright light from the sun blinded
her eyes. Immediately she put on her dark glasses and began strolling
lazily down the winding road, whistling softly under her breath. The
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cool air was brushing against her cheeks. It still retained the sweet crisp
odour of green leaves following the previous afternoon’s heavy rainfall.
She relished the fresh air, breathing a lungful of it and momentarily
holding her breath before exhaling slowly. After a few more breaths she
could feel her shoulder muscles starting to loosen up a bit.
The street was deserted. Only one motor vehicle came from behind
and drove past her. A few yards ahead it screeched to a stop as soon as
the motorist recognised her as his neighbour. Thinking she might need
a lift, he reversed the car until he came to a stop alongside her. Mandy
stood on the pavement and waved the man away with a hearty smile
on her face, politely saying she needed to walk and stretch her legs.
Deep inside she knew she was in no mood for a petty conversation
with anyone. She wanted to be left alone with her thoughts.
As she approached the coffee shop, she could not help but inhale
the delicious aroma of coffee that saturated the air. Her hunger pains
grew worse. She pushed open the door and looked around for a table.
The shop was almost empty, with only a handful of customers. Her eyes
picked out an elderly couple at the far corner of the shop. They were her
front-door neighbours. She waved a hand at them. They waved back
with odd expressions of sympathy on their faces. She hated it when
people looked at her that way, as though they knew something about
her that she did not know herself. It worried her even more when she
noticed the rest of the customers staring at her with the same degree
of sympathy. Determined to avoid their disturbing looks, she chose a
table by the window overlooking the deserted street, giving everyone
in the shop her back.
A bored-looking waiter came sluggishly and took her order. As he
left her table, the owner caught sight of her from behind the counter
and hurried to her table to greet her. He was a cheerful man of about
sixty, and had known her and Maxwell ever since they’d arrived in
the neighbourhood. He pulled a chair across the table from her and
chatted for a while. Although he sounded as cheerful as she had always
known him, his eyes, as he gazed at her, had some sadness about them.
Mandy was about to ask him if there was something she should know
that was causing everyone to stare at her so oddly, when the door
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opened and a middle-aged couple entered the shop. The owner leapt
to his feet, apologising politely to her that he needed to go over and
attend to them. Mandy sat back in her chair, staring after him with her
head shaking in amazement.
As soon as her meal arrived, she delved into it, eating as if she had
not touched food for months. Her plate was soon wiped clean to the
to the last crumb. She signalled to the waiter to bring her more coffee.
While she waited, she walked to the newspaper rack and brought back
with her the Saturday-morning paper. What she saw on the front page
caused her to catch her breath and hold it for what seemed like hours.
RENOWNED LEGAL GIANT RICHARDSON CAUGHT AT RESTAURANT
WITH PREGNANT MISTRESS
Below the headline was a picture of Maxwell and Kristal; and next
to their pictures, her own picture. She was not prepared for the publicity
Maxwell’s infidelity would attract. At the time, it had not occurred to
any of them that some callous journalist was hiding somewhere in the
restaurant and taking their pictures. Disbelief turned into mystified
anger. ‘When will people ever mind their own fucking business?’ she
heard herself muttering. Her heart started to pound in her ears as it
always did when her fury was overwhelming.
But curiosity took the better of her. She found she could not take
her eyes off the paper, interested to know what the readers out there
knew about her husband’s shameful secrets. She dug her eyes into the
paper and began to read the article.
Maxwell Richardson was spotted at the Ritz restaurant yesterday
afternoon having a meal with his pregnant mistress. Sources closest to
the mistress revealed that the relationship had been going on for a good
number of years, and that the two already have a love child of about
four years. Richardson’s wife, the mighty Mandy Richardson, happened
to be at the same restaurant having lunch with her business partners. She
reportedly left their table after spotting her husband in the company of a
woman, and went over to have a confrontation with him. No incidents of
violence were reported. It is rumoured that the mistress is carrying twins,
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and is due to deliver anytime. Advocate Richardson could not be reached

for comment.
Slowly, Mandy laid the paper down. She remembered the myster
ious phone call she received earlier at the house and knew right away
that it had been the reporter seeking to get her comment on the
story. She wondered if by any chance one of the nosy reporters had
followed her from the house. First, she turned and peeked through the
window. When she was satisfied that there seemed to be no living soul
outside, she looked over her shoulder at the customers at the tables.
As expected, she caught them looking at her. It was at that instant that
she knew they had read the morning paper long before she made her
appearance in the shop. That explained the odd looks they gave her. All
the pieces of the puzzle were finally coming together. Her heart sank.
Deeply despondent, she covered her face in her hands and whispered,
‘Oh. Maxwell. What have you done to our lives?’
When the waiter returned with her coffee she realised she had
been holding her breath. She exhaled slowly before sipping the coffee
to moisten her dry throat. Her hand was trembling so much that she
almost spilled the coffee on the white tablecloth.
Just then her mobile phone rang, startling her. For a while she was
reluctant to answer it, thinking it might be a reporter, but when she
saw it was Tom’s number she let out an inaudible sigh of relief and held
it to her ear.
‘Hello Tom,’ she answered in a low voice.
‘Have you seen this morning’s paper? I am so sorry, baby.’ His voice
was filled with sadness and shock.
‘I’ve just seen it. It’s ... it’s dreadful ...’ She was stuttering.
‘Stay in the house and don’t go outside until Henry and I get there.’
In the aftershock, her lips could not move as she tried to speak. She
rubbed a trembling finger over them until she could feel the numbness
slowly dissipating. ‘I’m not ... I mean ... I took a walk and am ...’ She
struggled to put the words together into a rational sentence.
‘What are you saying, Mandy? Where are you?’ Tom asked appre
hensively.
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She took a long, deep breath to calm herself, taking a gulp of coffee
afterwards. ‘I’m at the coffee shop a few blocks from my house.’
Tom gasped on the telephone. ‘Oh Lord! Do you have any idea how
much the reporters would like to get hold of you for your comment on
the article?’
‘I had no idea until I saw the paper ... right here in the shop. What
must I do, Tommy?’
‘You need to get back to the house. Do you reckon someone in
there can sneak you out without your being noticed?’
‘I’ll ask the owner.’
‘Is he someone you can trust?’
‘Yes. Maxwell and I have known him for many years. He’s an
honourable man.’ She was slowly regaining her senses and could think
rationally.
‘Good. Now, listen to me very carefully. Keep your phone on but
don’t answer any number you’re not familiar with. And refuse to give
any comment to anyone. Do you hear me, baby?’
She nodded her head. When she realised he was on the other end
of the line and could not see her, she spoke softly. ‘I’ll do as you say,
Tommy.’ There was a sharp click and the line went dead.
With great effort, she forced herself to her feet and walked to the
counter. Every muscle in her body was aching. The owner heard her
soft approach. He looked up from under the counter, where he had
been unpacking boxes.
Mandy waited until he had straightened up. ‘You’ve read the paper,
haven’t you, Mr Roberts?’ she asked in a whisper.
He hesitated and then nodded his head. He still wore the same odd
look in his eyes. ‘I guess you only just saw it now, child?’
She nodded. ‘I probably wouldn’t have seen it had I not walked
in here when I did.’ She could imagine the embarrassment she would
have suffered having to learn that from friends over the phone.
The shop owner sensed her sorrow and took both her hands. ‘I
have a daughter pretty much your age. It would break my heart should
something like this happen to her. I know how heavily this is weighing
on you and feel the pain with you. I’ve known you and Mr Richardson
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for many years. He’s a good person. I don’t know what got him into
doing something like this. If there’s anything I can do for you, anything
at all ...’
She was silent, listening to him as he was talking and looking down
at her hands, hoping she would not dissolve into tears. ‘There’s only
one thing I need you to do for me, Mr Roberts. Get me out of here,
now. Just get me home.’
‘But what about your car, how did you get here?’
‘I didn’t come in my car. It’s parked at the office. I walked.’
The old man appeared confused, but decided not to probe. It
was evident to him that a lot more was going on than the newspaper
had reported. He remained thoughtful for a moment, but only for a
moment. ‘Well ... I am going to do everything I can to get you home.
But you must also do your part.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Mandy replied, raising her eyebrows at him.
‘You can’t risk being noticed by the reporters. One of them might
have followed you here. You must lie flat on the back seat and cover
yourself with the table cloth I’m going to give you until we reach your
house.’
She heaved a sigh of relief. ‘Oh, Mr Roberts. I’ll do anything you
want me to do, as long as you can get me home safely.’
‘Then follow me,’ he said, his voice hoarse.
She fell into step beside him as he led her to the back of the shop
and out through the emergency exit. Her unsteady legs were barely able
to maintain her balance and twice she bumped against the cupboards.
The old man noticed and put his strong arm protectively around her
shoulder, guiding her to the car.
The ride to her house was made in silence. As soon as the car pulled
up on her driveway she thanked the old man and made a dash for the
door, slamming it shut behind her. First, she checked the messages on
the phone. The first one was from Mark, the bank manager, reassuring
her that he still had their investment account on ice, and urging her to
see her solicitor. She smiled inwardly, appreciating his thoughtfulness.
But she deleted the message. The word ‘solicitor’ had a peculiar way of
sending a chill up her spine.
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She moved to the next message. It was from Robert. ‘Hi love, it’s me.
Sharon and I are deeply saddened about the article in the newspaper.
Don’t be scared to call us if you need anything. Danny is fine and happy
with the boys. We’ll keep him with us a little longer till we know you’re
all right.’ He was speaking rapidly, as usual. Mandy realised then just
how much she missed her son, and wished he was there with her. In
many ways he would have made her feel better about herself; his soft
kisses on her cheeks, tiny hands cuddling her and smoothing her hair
while he reminded her that he loved her. A teardrop fell from her eye.
She saved the message.
The next message was from her mother. ‘Honey, it’s me. What’s this
we see in the papers about Maxwell? Your father and I are worried sick
about you. Call us as soon as you get this message.’ Without hesitation
she deleted the message, but made a quick mental note to return the
call. Suddenly she yearned for a drink. She walked to the kitchen
and returned seconds later with a tall glass of orange juice, drinking
thirstily at it while dialling her parents’ number. The phone rang once;
her mother answered. It was as if she had been sitting with her hand on
the phone, waiting for it to ring.
‘Oh my poor baby! Is it true what the media is saying about Maxwell
and this predatory bitch?’
Mandy closed her eyes and took a moment before she answered.
‘Yes, mother. Everything is the truth.’ Against her wish, her overwrought
nerves snapped and she let out a single strangled sob, covering the
mouth piece with the palm of her hand so her mother would not hear.
‘Why didn’t you come to us with your problems? We’re your family.
We could have been there for you. You didn’t have to deal with this all
by yourself.’
‘I didn’t know about it until yesterday, mother.’
‘Are you telling me you didn’t know he had a bastard son all this
time?’
‘No, mother, and still wouldn’t know had I not walked into them at
the restaurant.’ More than anything, she was tempted to tell her about
the house he bought Kristal with her money, but let the temptation slip
away. It would only enrage her mother more. And heaven knew what
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she might do next – she’d almost certainly give Maxwell a frightful call
on his mobile, and swear at him.
Her mother’s fury was insurmountable. She was ten times angrier
than Mandy. ‘That good-for-nothing son-in-law. I hope you’ve kicked
him out of the house by now! I’m taking the first flight tomorrow
morning. God help him if I find him in your house, because I’ll skin
him alive with my bare hands.’
Despite her anguish, a suppressed smile twitched at the corners of
Mandy’s mouth, then broadened until she was grinning openly. She
was thinking secretly: Some people never change. Nothing, or no one,
was ever going to change her mother. She sounded just like the same
no-nonsense hectoring mother she had known all her life, but whom
she loved very dearly.
‘There’s no need for you to come down, mother. I can handle the
situation, really. This is the busiest time for your practice. You can’t
afford to leave your patients stranded because of this.’
Her mother was steadfast. ‘In that case, find yourself a housekeeper.
Someone has to be there with you in the house should you need
anything.’
Mandy sensed her worst fear. She addressed it head-on. ‘Mother,
are you afraid I might do something stupid ... like taking my own life
over this?’
‘You wouldn’t do that, would you, honey?’
‘Of course not, mother! How could you even think of such a thing?
But this notion of a housekeeper – I really don’t want to live with some
stranger in my house.’
‘Once you get to know her, she won’t be a stranger anymore. You
really need someone to help clean the house and do the washing and
ironing.’
Mandy knew that it was futile trying to argue with her. In the end,
her mother always got her own way. ‘All right, mother. You win. I’ll
advertise the position. Does daddy know about the newspaper article?’
‘He’s the one who showed me the paper.’
‘How did he receive the news, mother?’
‘You know him. He’s too distraught to talk to anyone. He can’t even
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bring himself to call you. He’s hurting so much, baby. I had a delicious
breakfast prepared for him and he only toyed with it. He really loved
his son-in-law like he was his own flesh and blood. How’s my grandson
holding up?’
‘He has no knowledge of this. He’s staying over with friends. I
couldn’t let him see me in this state.’
‘You did a good thing. Let me know how things go. And remember
that we love you very much.’
‘I love you too, mother. Please give daddy my love too. And tell
him not to worry too much. I’ll be fine.’ They said their goodbyes and
hung up.
Mandy held the receiver long after her conversation with her
mother had ended. Not letting go of it gave her some degree of
comfort, as though her mother was still there on the line with her.
When eventually she let go of it and slammed it down, she carried her
glass of juice to the sofa at the far end of the room and threw herself
onto it. She wanted to cry but the tears would not come. They seemed
to have dried out. How she wished she had never met Maxwell! How
she wished she had never loved him!
The intercom buzzed, jerking her out of her distressing thoughts.
She hastened to answer it, first peeking through the open curtain. It
was Tom and Henry at the gate. Henry was behind the wheel of her car,
with Tom following closely behind in his own car. The relief she felt at
the sight of them was too much. She almost burst into tears as she let
them in. And as soon as they stepped into the house she threw herself
into their arms, hugging each of them so tightly she just about sucked
the lives out of them.
They too appeared distraught, as though they had been up all night
and were now yearning for a few hours of sleep. She knew what they
needed, and hurried to the liquor cabinet to pour them each a drink.
She waited until they were fully settled in their seats and halfway
through their drinks before she pulled out a photograph of the little boy
from the drawer. She tossed it at them, her eyes deliberately avoiding it.
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‘This is Maxwell’s bastard son with his mistress, can you believe it? He’s
had this child for four years and never said a word about him.’
The two men looked at the picture and gaped. Tom gasped like a
fish pulled out of the water. ‘This can’t be!’
Henry was equally shocked. ‘Are you sure about this, love? He
looks pretty much like your own son.’
‘Only because they are half-brothers,’ she said with deep resent
ment. ‘The son-of-a-bitch shamelessly admitted to that last night when
I confronted him.’
‘I know there are unborn twin girls on the way, but this is something
else!’ Tom said, still reeling with shock. He was holding the photograph
in his hand, barely able to shift his eyes from it.
‘Well, if you think this is one shocking revelation for the day, wait
till you see this ...’ She thrust the bank statement into Tom’s hand. ‘He
bought the bitch a house with my hard-earned savings.’
‘Oh no!’ Tom exclaimed.
‘Oh yes, Tommy. Now, do you still reckon I should pardon him and
work on keeping my marriage together?’
Tom finished his vodka in one long gulp and shook his head
vehemently. ‘Kick the son-of-a-bitch out of the house and out of your
life!’ He got to his feet and began pacing the floor, nervously mopping
his sweaty face with the back of his hand. When he reached the centre
of the room, facing Maxwell’s bar, he turned to stare at Mandy. ‘I need
another drink. Do you mind if I get it myself?’
‘You go ahead, Tommy. And while you’re at it, refill Henry’s glass
too.’ She walked to the kitchen and poured herself another glass of
juice.
‘I think you should take a few days off work until this whole thing
cools off. The boss wouldn’t object to that. He’s probably reading the
newspaper as we speak. He’ll understand your situation.’
Henry left his seat and went to sit next to her, taking her hand and
rubbing it. ‘I agree with Tom, love. A short holiday is just what you
need right now. You have a holiday home at the coast, don’t you? Take
a few days and go there. The fresh air from the sea will do you good.’
‘And where do you reckon I sleep when I get there, Henry? Do you
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propose I use the same bedroom that Maxwell and this bitch have been
sleeping in, the same bed in which they’ve been fucking each other?’
‘I’m not sure I understand what you’re trying to say, love.’ Henry
said with deep concern. He was afraid for her, worrying that she was
losing her mind. Betrayal of this magnitude had a way of affecting
people’s minds in the worst possible way.
Mandy walked over to Tom, grabbed the photograph from his hand
and held it before Henry’s eyes. ‘Take a closer look at the balcony of
this house. This is my holiday house, Henry. Maxwell has been taking
his mistress and her son to my own house! And who knows whether
this little boy, and the unborn twins, were conceived there?’ She was
shouting at the top of her voice.
Henry placed his index finger over her lips, quietening her. ‘Keep
your voice down, for goodness’ sake, Mandy. You don’t want your
neighbours overhearing this, do you?’
‘What difference will it make, anyway? It’s all out in the open. The
whole country knows about his scandalous relationship. They might as
well hear the rest.’
Tom and Henry exchanged stolen glances and shrugged their
shoulders in despair.
Tom tried to sway her. ‘How about your parents’ home, baby? It’s
still at the coast. You could walk on the beach every morning and
breathe in the fresh air from the sea. You know how much it will please
your parents to have you and Danny visit them for a while.’
‘Of course they’d love to have us around. But will I be able to keep
my mother from fussing over me as if I was incapacitated? Oh no,
Tommy. I’d rather go back to work.’
‘But ... you know how people at the office talk. Would you rather
have them talk behind your back? It will only make you feel worse than
you already do, don’t you see?’
‘I appreciate your concern, Tom. But I can’t live in solitary forever.
At some point I’d have to come face-to-face with the very people who
gossip, and have trivial conversations with them. At least it will keep
my mind from continually drifting back to Maxwell and his mistress,
and their pitiful brood. One more day alone in this house will drive
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me crazy. Can’t you understand that, Tommy?’ Suddenly her eyes were
teary.
Henry drew her to him and wrapped his arms tenderly around her.
‘I know this is hard on you. But it might be a double-edged sword for
Maxwell. His reputation and marriage are evidently injured, and his
relationship with his mistress could be hanging in the balance as we
speak. One thing is certain: his mistress is not going to take his deceit
lying down. The heart is not something to play with. In the end, he
might find himself all alone and miserable.’
Mandy sat staring into nothing, absentmindedly stamping her foot
on the ground. She could not care a damn what happened to him. As
far as she was concerned, he and his mistress deserved one another.
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CHAPTER EIGHT
Kristal had just finished taking a long, hot shower, and was dressed
up, feeling more relaxed and looking forward to enjoying the beautiful
sunny Saturday with her family. Before she tiptoed out of the bedroom,
careful not to wake Maxwell, she looked down at his sleeping form,
wondering what had caused him to look as troubled as he did the
previous evening. He was sleeping peacefully, his loud snoring echoing
in the room. But what she did not know was that he was only just
catching up on his sleep after lying awake the entire night, staring up
at the dark ceiling and crying his heart out as he mourned the end of
his marriage.
On her way to the kitchen, she yanked open the curtains and
windows in the house to let in fresh air, poking her head out through
one of the windows as she did that. The sun was high in the sky, with
a few scattered white clouds surrounding it. It surprised her that she’d
slept so late. She was always up before eight. The time had just gone past
ten. She realised she was starving. Once in the kitchen, she scrambled a
quick breakfast for her and David, and carried the tray to his bedroom.
Little David had been up since seven, and had already had his glass
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of milk and his cookies. His mother knew him to be an early riser and
always left a flask of milk, a mug and a jug of cookies on the kitchen
table for him. He had already helped himself to that and was sitting
quietly in his bed with his back propped against the pillows, playing
his TV games. He whirled around at the sound of the door opening. A
delightful grin appeared on his face at the sight of his mother.
‘There you are, darling. How long have you been up?’ she asked as
she bent over to kiss him on the cheek before she placed his breakfast
tray on the bedside table.
‘I’ve been up a long time, mummy. Look at that,’ he replied, pointing
with his finger at an empty glass of milk and crumbs of cookies on the
saucer. ‘I’ve already finished them.’
She wriggled his ear playfully. ‘Good boy. Now be a darling and eat
your breakfast. I grilled you your favourite pork sausage. I’ll be in the
kitchen if you need me.’
David had had an insatiable appetite since he was a baby. No
sooner had his mother left the room than he attacked his plate of food.
As she walked down the corridor, she remembered something and
immediately retraced her steps back to David’s room. He looked up;
his mouth was smeared with crumbs of toast, one hand holding a large
piece of sausage. Kristal smiled adoringly at him. It always pleased her
to see him eat like that. Unlike other children of his age, she never had
to force him to eat and finish his food. She walked over to him and
put her arm around his shoulder. ‘Daddy is in the bedroom and still
sleeping. Let’s not wake him. Keep the volume low, please darling.’
David nodded, his face beaming at the good news of his father
being home with them. Lately, Maxwell had been promising to play
the boxing TV game with him, and now was the time to take him on
his word.
Back in the kitchen, Kristal was halfway through her meal when
the intercom buzzed. She hurried to answer it, angry at having her meal
interrupted. It was the courier, delivering Maxwell’s belongings. She let
him in grudgingly and showed him to the storeroom. But soon after
he left, she stood looking at the boxes with a contented look on her
face. With all his belongings now in the house, she was more assured
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than ever that he had indeed come home to stay with them. She could
almost visualise their wedding day, holding hands and gazing lovingly
into each other’s eyes as they exchanged their vows in front of a full
chapel, with soft sobs heard from their family members and closest
friends. It was finally going to happen, at long last! Theirs was going to
be a perfect marriage; him, little David and the twins.
She was humming a song and effervescing with pure joy as she
returned to the kitchen to finish her breakfast. She could not remember
the last time she was bubbling with so much happiness. Her only regret
was that her unborn twins would not be old enough to be flower girls
at their wedding, because she had no intention of waiting any longer.
Time was crucial to her. But she drew comfort in the fact that David
would be there as a flower boy. She started putting together a list in her
head of all the people she wanted to invite to the wedding. It had to be
something small with no more than a hundred people. Her wish was for
her wedding dress to be designed by one of the best in the city. Maxwell
could afford it. After all, he was the great Advocate Richardson!
She was smiling as she boiled the water for coffee, yearning for it
black and strong. Seconds later as she was sipping it, her mobile phone
rang, startling her out of her drifting thoughts. She wondered who
could be calling her at that time of the morning. Half-heartedly she
grabbed the phone and answered it. ‘Hello. Who’s calling?’
‘Am I so glad I reached you ... We need to talk, Kristy. It’s pretty
serious.’ That was her best friend, Frankie. Her voice was breathless.
Kristal knew by instinct that something bad had happened to her.
Frankie never called her unless she’d had a fight with her bully and
drunkard of a husband. She wondered what he had done to her this
time. There was never a weekend that passed when he did not beat
her. She found it difficult to comprehend why Frankie still put up with
him. It was not as if he was giving her a lavish life. He could not even
make ends meet with his meagre salary, one which he wasted on booze
and women. She sat upright on her chair, every nerve in her body
alert. ‘What is it, Frankie? Are you alright? Has that good-for-nothing
husband of yours hurt you again?’
‘No, Kristy. He hasn’t done anything to hurt me, at least not yet.
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The bastard didn’t come home last night, not that I care a damn. He’s
obviously doped and lying in some cheap slut’s arms. At least I had
some peace of mind the whole night. I only hope the slut keeps him
with her. I never want to see his face again. My life will be happier
without him. But it’s you I’m worried about, Kristy. If I had enough
petrol in my car I’d drive over to be with you. You really should not be
all by yourself at a time like this.’
Thinking Frankie was referring to her pregnancy and was con
cerned that she might go into labour with no one in the house to help
her, Kristal’s adoration for her multiplied. She might not have petrol
in her car, but it was the thought that counted. After the twins were
born, she promised herself silently that she would bundle them into
the car and pay Frankie a surprise visit. Maxwell and David would be
glad to accompany her. They had nothing but love and admiration for
her. She relaxed back in her chair and breathed out softly, relieved that
Frankie’s drunkard of a husband had at least not done anything to hurt
her. ‘Well, you shouldn’t worry about me. I’m all right, really, Frankie.
If the truth be told, this is the best time of my life. Maxwell came home
last night and announced he was staying with us permanently. So I’m
not alone here.’ She thought she heard Frankie catch her breath on the
telephone and added quickly, ‘We talked about marriage last night. It’s
finally going to happen, Frankie. At long last I’m going to be his wife. If
I were you I’d stop worrying and start drafting a wedding invitation for
me. I’m already considering who to invite to the wedding.’
There was a pause, then Frankie asked solemnly, ‘Oh! You poor
Kristal! So you don’t know?’
‘Don’t know what, Frankie?’
‘The dreadful news in the morning paper. You haven’t read it, have
you?’
She shook her head anxiously. ‘Not yet. Has anything happened to
anyone we know? I woke up late this morning and haven’t gone outside
to get the paper. It must already have been delivered.’
‘Well ... you should go get it right away.’
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Unexplained fear gripped her. ‘Frankie, you know how much I hate
to be kept in suspense. Just go ahead and spill it. What’s in the paper
that I should know about?’
‘I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Kristy. You’d better be sitting
down for this.’
‘I am sitting down, for goodness’ sake!’ She was starting to lose her
cool with Frankie.
‘It’s you and Maxwell ... you’re both on the front page. He’s not who
you think he is, Kristy. He’s been married all the time you’ve been with
him.’
Without any warning, a sharp contraction jolted her body. She
winced with pain, and her hand shot to the side of her abdomen where
the pain had ripped her. For a while she breathed through her mouth
as she was supposed to when in true labour. And when the contraction
would not go away, she shut her eyes tightly and looked up the ceiling,
silently saying a prayer. ‘Please God; don’t let me go into labour, not
now.’
The contraction stopped, but her face remained numb with shock.
She just sat there, staring hopelessly at her unfinished coffee.
‘Kristy, are you still there?’ Frankie asked, sensing the sudden
sickening silence.
She gathered herself together. ‘Yes, Frankie, I’m right here, and will
go and get the paper now.’
Frankie could only imagine how awful Kristal must be feeling. If
there was one man she loved and worshipped, it was Maxwell. She was
at a vulnerable stage in her life and ought not to stumble across such
horrid and deceitful news about her fiancé. It was going to leave her
hanging by a thread. ‘I know this must have come as a shock to you,
Kristy. It left me wobbling, too. I just want you to know that I’ll always
be here for you if you need me, anytime and for anything. You know
that don’t you, Kristy darling?’
‘I know that, Frankie. And I’ll call you as soon as I’ve read the
paper.’
There was no time to waste. Her heart was beating wildly. With
mounting curiosity, she pulled back her chair and slammed out of
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the kitchen, hands tight around her shapeless waist as she made her
way to the gate. She needed to hear for herself what was being said
about Maxwell. Minutes later she returned to the kitchen, clutching
the newspaper tightly to her chest as if afraid someone might snatch it
from her. She sank into her chair, immediately unfolding the paper and
positioning herself to read it.
The breath left her body as her eyes fell on the headlines and the
snapshots below them. She read the article, and read it again, each
time with growing disbelief. After she had read it for the fifth time, she
folded the paper and pushed it out of her sight. Her mind started to
race. Mandy was Maxwell Richardson’s wife? Not dead but alive? She
remembered the brief conversation she had with her at the restaurant,
thinking: The entire time she was probing into my relationship with
Maxwell; she was deliberately leading me on while sneakily hiding her
true identity as his wife, so she could get as much as she hoped to know
from me! She recalled the weird behaviour Maxwell had shown from
the time Mandy had arrived at their table. He seemed so ill at ease, as if
intimidated by her. And the whole time she was there he could hardly
say a word, all because he knew his wife had walked in on him and
caught him in the act!
For the first time, all the pieces of the puzzle were fitting together.
The contents of her stomach started to stir up, plummet and churn. For
a long while, she allowed her mind to drift far back to the early months,
after she’d first met Maxwell. Although he had opened up to her about
the passing of his wife, it always puzzled her that he was forever rushing
to get home as though there was someone else waiting for him and
would be furious if he did not arrive on time. While couples normally
celebrated Christmas and the eve of the New Year together, Maxwell
was never around to share the exhilarating spirit with her, simply
because he knew those were memorable times to spend with family;
and Mandy was his family! And all that talk about not being ready to
introduce her to his family and friends! She thought with a pang of his
belongings in the store room and could not help but swear at him. He
came home to them only because his wife had evidently thrown him
out of the house after finding out about her. He had nowhere else to go,
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so he crawled back to her. And to think she believed him when he said
he cared enough to be around when the twins were born. She wanted
to bash her head against the wall, thinking: What a fool I’ve been!
As the nausea became increasingly difficult to suppress, she lurched
to her feet and started for the bathroom to throw up, returning seconds
later to take her seat back at the table. Her whole face was glistening
with sweat. For a long moment she looked down at the engagement
ring on her finger. It made her feel sick. She tried to haul it off, but
found it was stuck between the folds of the oedema. All she wanted was
to flush it down the toilet, just to get back at him.
She needed to talk to someone ... needed some advice. But who
was there to call? First, she thought of Frankie, but decided against her.
Frankie had too many problems of her own that she could not even
resolve. What advice could she possibly give her? Odd as it sounded, the
next person to come to mind was Mandy. Yes! She was the only person
who would understand the pain of betrayal she was experiencing,
because she was feeling it too. And only goodness knew how she was
handling it. She had to see her in person. ‘Surely her number should
be in the telephone directory,’ she said aloud, as if talking to someone
in the same room with her. She searched for the number and when
she found it, she began dialling it with a trembling finger. At the fifth
ring, just when she was beginning to despair, Mandy’s irritable voice
answered. A voice that suggested she had been continually troubled by
people calling her, and wished for no more of the phone calls.
‘I told you to stop calling me. I have nothing to say to you. Can’t
you reporters get that into your thick skulls?’ Mandy was emitting
venom on the telephone.
‘Pease don’t hang up, Mandy. It’s me, Kristal.’
There was a loud sigh on the other end of the line. She was not
expecting to hear a woman’s voice. ‘I’m sorry, Kristal. I thought for
a moment you were one of those ruthless reporters. They’ve been
bothering me the entire morning.’ And then she realised she was
actually talking to her husband’s mistress. When she thought of the
pain and suffering Kristal had put her through, her tone of voice
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suddenly changed from irritation to resentment. ‘Why are you calling

me? And how did you get my number?’
‘I got it from the telephone directory, and I really need to talk to
someone. I couldn’t think of anyone but you. Please Mandy, don’t shut
me out.’
‘If it’s about the newspaper article then I’m not interested. I’ve
already made peace with you and my husband being together as a
family. You can have him to yourself for all I care. If there’s anyone you
need to talk to, it’s him. Get him to explain why he lied to you all this
time and didn’t walk out on me if he loves you so much. Now, if you
don’t mind, I need to be alone with my thoughts. And don’t bother to
call me again.’ Without warning she slammed down the receiver in her
ear.
So desperate was Kristal that after just a fraction of a second she
picked up the phone and dialled Mandy’s number again. As soon as
Mandy’s voice came on the line, about to tell Kristal where to get off,
Kristal pleaded solemnly. ‘Please Mandy, just listen to me. This is not
about me and Maxwell being together. It’s about how you and I feel
after what he did to us. I know this is hard on you, but it’s devastatingly
hard on me too. I never meant to hurt you. If I knew he was living a
double life, I’d have ended this relationship a long time ago, before
things got complicated. We’re both victims here, and both women.
We’re supposed to stand together against callous and treacherous men
like Maxwell. I need you as much as you need me. Don’t you see that?’
There was so much pain and desperation in her voice that Mandy
reconsidered instantly. When next she spoke, she softened her tone
and expressed her thoughtful and caring side. ‘I guess you’re right. No
matter how dreadful and humiliating the circumstances are, we should
support one another. Is Maxwell with you?’
‘He’s asleep in the bedroom and hasn’t yet seen the newspaper if
that’s what you’re thinking. I could slip out of the house unnoticed and
drive over to your house. I promise I won’t take much of your time.’
Mandy hesitated for a second, but only for a second. ‘I really don’t
think this is a good idea, coming over to the house. The reporters can’t
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wait to get hold of any of us for their story. Someone might follow you
here.’
‘I promise I’ll be careful. No one will recognise me. You’ll see.
Please, Mandy, just say yes.’
Hearing how distraught and uptight she sounded, she eventually
gave in. ‘All right. Yes, you can come over. What time should I expect
you?’
A deep relief washed over her. She sighed. ‘It depends on how far
away you are. But I’m ready to leave the house any minute now.’
With a trembling hand, she scribbled on a piece of paper while
Mandy gave her directions to the house. No sooner had she put the
phone down than she rushed to David’s bedroom. He was still sitting
in his bed and quietly playing his television games.
‘Darling, listen to me very carefully. Mummy has to go somewhere.
Something came up and I need to attend to it immediately. I want you
to stay right here in your room till daddy wakes up. Promise me you
won’t go outside on the street, please darling?’
‘Can I go with you, mummy?’
She bit her bottom lip. ‘Not now, baby. But I promise you that
tomorrow morning you and I will go to buy that TV game you’ve been
rumbling about this entire month. Now, promise mummy you’ll be a
good boy and stay in your room.’
‘I promise, mummy. But don’t take too long.’
‘I’ll be back before you know it, darling.’
She leaned over and kissed him on his lips, and then started for
the door. And when she remembered the newspaper in the kitchen she
looked over her shoulder. ‘I left the newspaper on the kitchen table.
Make sure daddy gets it when he wakes up.’ David nodded his head
and shifted his concentration back to his game.
Thirty minutes later, she was pulling up outside Mandy’s house,
almost unrecognisable. She had a large sun hat on her head and dark
glasses. Her whole body was covered in a black shawl, hiding her
pregnancy. Mandy led Kristal to the living room, where a steaming
pot of tea was waiting. She poured a cup for each of them, and as she
held Kristal’s cup to her, she looked her straight in the eye and said,
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‘Before you say what you came here to say, and for what it’s worth, I’m
deeply sorry for sounding so resentful to you on the telephone and
for slamming it down on you, too. I guess I was too uptight and not
thinking clearly.’
‘I understand, Mandy. And I guess I’d have done the same thing if
I was in your shoes.’ For a while they sipped their tea in silence, each
waiting on the other to broach the subject.
As the awkward silence persisted as though it was never going to
end, Kristal’s eyes started to flit around, taking in the beauty of the
house. Though she managed not to let it show outwardly, secretly she
felt like a maid in the house and saw Mandy pretty much as the queen.
Unwillingly, and much as she loathed it, her heart began to bulge with
jealousy. She thought of the house Maxwell had bought her, and for the
first time saw it in a whole new light. It was nothing compared to what
she was looking at. Even the furniture was exclusive and high-priced.
With all the money he had, she thought Maxwell could at least have
bought her something in a similar league. After all, she was the mother
of his son and the unborn twins. She too deserved a lavish lifestyle. He
had always promised her all the best things in life. It was about time
she took him up on his promises. Unaware of it, she started to shift
uneasily in her seat, suddenly eager to get back home and have a long
chat with him. It was the unexpected loud ringing of the telephone that
brought her out of her malicious thoughts.
Mandy hurried to answer it. Kristal turned her head slightly in
Mandy’s direction to eavesdrop on her. She heard Mandy yelling. ‘I
don’t want to hear what you have to say, and don’t ever call me, do
you hear me?’ She banged the phone down and returned to her seat,
swearing under her breath.
Kristal studied her. ‘I suppose that was Maxwell.’
She nodded. ‘I guess he must have just seen the newspaper. He has
such a nerve to call me after all this!’ She was boiling with fury.
‘That’s the reason I’m here, Mandy. I just wanted you to know that I
had no inkling at all that Maxwell was married. I may be many things,
but I’m not a home-wrecker.’ Kristal was on the brink of tears as she
spoke.
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‘I know how it sounds, and coming from me for that matter, but
I never doubted that for a single moment, Kristy. What are you going
to do now that you know?’ It had surprised her that she had actually
agreed to have such a conversation with her husband’s mistress in her
own house. She thought of her hectoring mother. If she knew about
this, she would blow her head over the roof.
But Kristal could not give her a direct answer. Instead, she threw
the question back at her. ‘How do you feel, Mandy, about what he did
to you?’
‘It was dreadful when first I found out about you ... in the restaurant.
And it nearly killed me when I discovered you had a son with him. I
always believed we had a good and solid marriage and that he would
never love another woman for as long as I was in his life. But obviously
I was wrong about him.’ Her voice was sombre; when she felt a lump
rising in her throat, she paused for a moment, poured another cup
of tea and gulped a mouthful of it. ‘A part of me died the moment he
walked out of that door. He has left a void in my heart, Kristy. And it
hurts, more than you can ever imagine; more than anyone can imagine.
But with time I’ll get over it. I am a fighter and a survivor. Time will
heal all the wounds.’
Kristal looked down, unable to meet her gaze. A stitch of guilt
ripped her heart. For an instant she felt as though she was responsible
for Mandy’s pain; that she was a callous and ruthless whore who
stepped between two people who loved each other very much, and tore
apart what they had built for themselves over a good number of years.
Tears gathered in her eyes. She clenched her jaw to blink them back,
so hard it almost hurt. Before she was able to formulate a thought, and
out of the bottom of her heart, she stretched out her hand and let it rest
warmly over Mandy’s. ‘Oh, Mandy, somehow I feel responsible for all
of this. If only there was something I could do to take away your pain.’
There was sincerity in her voice.
Mandy forced a smile. ‘You have your own pain to deal with. Focus
on yourself. I’ll be all right.’
There was a long, painful silence in which Mandy sat quietly,
thinking. A part of her wanted to hate Kristal, to despise her for
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unexpectedly appearing in their lives and turning them upside down.

But somehow she could not find it in her heart to resent her. She
recognised that Kristal was a victim of infidelity, just like her. And she
was hurting inside; otherwise she would not have risked coming all the
way to talk to her. Her heart went out to her. She too wanted to take her
in her arms and hug her pain away while assuring her that everything
would be all right, that she would always be there to pick her up if she
should fall.
Mandy was the one who broke the silence. ‘This is not fair, Kristy.
You know how I really feel. It’s time you told me how you feel about
all this.’
‘I feel the same way you do; very bitter, angry and hurting. But
the truth of the matter is that I love him, Mandy. He’s the only man
that I’ve truly loved in my whole life, and the only man who has never
looked down on me and treated me like some piece of trash, but
offered me kindness. I would go to the ends of the earth with him. My
life would not be complete without him.’ She paused for a brief second
as if remembering something, and then continued, ‘But I don’t want to
cause you anymore heartache than I already have. If you still love him
... I mean ... if you still want him back, I’m prepared to let him go. I
know it will be hard, but I sure will do it. You’re a good person, Mandy.
You deserve all the happiness.’
Mandy sat listening attentively, and without interrupting her. She
was totally blown away by the sincerity in her voice, and the intensity of
her words. While at first she’d thought of Kristal as a predatory woman
who cared about nothing else but a ring on her finger, her perception
suddenly changed. For the first time she came to understand why her
husband was attracted to her. She worshipped the ground he walked
on, and the air he breathed. He was her hero. Each time they were
together she imagined that his manly ego thrived and blossomed.
And was that not what men wanted, and loved? For the first time she
recognised that their affair had nothing to do with lust, as Maxwell had
led her to believe. They were two people who truly loved each other.
Her eyes were filled with tears as she continued to stare at her. She took
her hand and squeezed it. ‘I believe you when you say you love him.
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And I want you to have him, Kristy. But I want you to promise me one
thing – that you will always take good care of him.’ Anguished tears
were trickling down her cheeks, uncontrollably. She turned her head
away from Kristal and blew her nose with a handkerchief.
Kristal found herself crying too. She sat there, not sure what to say.
Words were not coming easily to her. ‘But ... are you sure this is what
you want, Mandy?’
‘I’ve never been this sure of anything in my life. I really do want
you to have him.’
‘In that case I promise I’ll take good care of him,’ she said, wiping
the tears from her eyes.
As they continued to chat, Mandy found she could no longer look
into Kristal’s eyes without feeling a stabbing pain in her heart. What
she had just done was beyond her comprehension. She had given
away her husband like a father giving away his daughter to a groom.
It ripped her heart apart, but she knew it was the best thing to do, for
herself, and for Maxwell.
The mood while they had been talking was quite different to that
of their previous meeting. It was sombre and painful, but relaxed at
the same time. They were two people who came together to share
each other’s pain, and to comfort one another. In more ways than
one it felt like therapy. When there was nothing more to say to each
other, they talked about their sons. Kristal insisted on seeing Danny’s
photographs. And when Mandy brought his photo album, she
marvelled at the likeness. It was as if she was looking at pictures of her
own son. It was at that instant that they realised they shared something
in common, something shameful yet very special – and that was a man
who fathered their sons. For a brief moment they stared at each other,
and then Mandy did what she had been wishing to do the entire time.
She took Kristal in her arms. For a while they sat there, hugging, tears
of sorrow streaming down their faces.
When, finally, they pulled away from each other, Kristal rose
from her seat. Without looking back, she walked out of the door and
straight to her car. She could no longer bear to see the anguished look
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in Mandy’s eyes. It was one look she knew would stay with her for the
rest of her life.
Very slowly, Mandy closed the door behind her, kicked off her
shoes and walked straight to her bedroom, into bed. The day had only
just begun but already it felt long and gruelling. For the first time in
her life, she realised that life did not always offer us what we want.
She allowed herself to cry, unrestrained. When her pillow grew sodden
with tears, she tossed it aside and grabbed another one.
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CHAPTER NINE
Kristal was still crying softly as she drew closer to home. But she was
grateful for the conversation she’d had with Mandy. It had done much
to eradicate the guilt she felt when first she stepped into Mandy’s house.
More than ever, she was ready to pardon Maxwell. The mere fact that he
had been with her for four long years, and didn’t walk out on her when
she fell pregnant with little David, nor with the twins, suggested that he
must truly love her. A teeny smile appeared on her lips. She felt a gush
of affection for him. All she wanted was for them to put everything
behind them and to start all over again with no more secrets between
them. But he had to promise her one thing: that he would be loyal and
faithful to her. She had once overheard her mother saying that men
who had cheated once on their partners and wives have the propensity
to cheat again. She hoped and prayed that it would not be the case
with Maxwell, because if he dared betray her trust again, she would
not find it in her heart to forgive him. She pressed her foot hard on the
accelerator, eager to get home to him.
Maxwell was in the living room, sitting on a sofa with his head
braced between his hands, and his mind a distance away. The news
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paper was lying on the coffee table before him. From the moment he
had finished reading it, he had been haunted by it. He knew without a
doubt that Kristal had read the article about them. After all, it was all
over the front page; it would not have skipped her probing eyes. That
could explain why she’d left the house without letting him know where
she was going.
He looked up as the door flung open and Kristal strode into the
house. Without waiting for her to broach the subject of the scandalous
article, he jumped to his feet and thrust in unrepentantly. ‘I guess
you’ve read the newspaper. If you want me to leave, just say so.’ His
pride could not allow him to beg. He had done that with Mandy and in
the end still found himself out in the street. He was not about to reduce
himself to that again, least of all with Kristal. If she intended throwing
him out, she would do it regardless.
She beckoned him to sit. ‘No, Maxwell, I don’t have any intention
of throwing you out of the house. You’re the father of my children and
I love you very much.’ Her tone of voice was calm and composed.
Maxwell fell back into his seat, completely astounded that she had
received the news with such calmness. A stifled breath of relief escaped
his mouth.
‘There’s one thing I need to know, though. Do you love me,
Maxwell?’
He hesitated for a brief moment, shifting uneasily on his seat as if
sitting on hot bricks. ‘Of course I love you. Did you even have to ask?’
He knew it was a lie the moment the words left his mouth. All through
the hours of the night he had been reflecting on their relationship; all
he could feel was a deep rush of hatred for her. More than anything, he
wanted to run far away from her, to where she could never find him.
‘In that case, divorce her and marry me.’ Her tone of voice was
resolute.
He played along cleverly, looking unkindly at her. ‘If that’s what
you want, then it will happen,’ he replied dully.
‘There’s one more thing you need to do for me, darling.’
‘And what’s that?’ he retorted.
‘With the twins about to be born, this house is going to be too
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small for all of us. I want you to consider selling it as soon as possible
and buying us a much bigger house. It has always been my dream to
live in a double-storey house. You can afford it, can’t you, darling?’
‘You know I don’t have that kind of money,’ he replied, looking
at her with eyes filled with suspicion. It was at that very instant that
he realised he was dealing with a ruthless woman. She was using the
stronghold she had on him to her full advantage, manipulating him
into anything she wanted. His resentment for her grew, but he decided
to play along, knowing that he could drag out the sale of the house and
the divorce proceedings for months on end. That would give him time
to figure out how to rid himself of her and of the mess he was now in.
‘But you had the money to build your wife that kind of a house.
How different is she from me? Tell me, Maxwell!’
An alarm rattled stridently in his head. ‘How do you know what
kind of house I built for my wife?’
‘I know because I’ve just been there to see her.’
‘You what?’ he asked, not making any effort to conceal the shock
that rushed over him.
‘I said I’ve just been there to see her. Suddenly you can’t hear well
with those big ears of yours?’
‘Who gave you permission to go over to my house?’
‘Would you have given me permission, seeing that you’ve been
concealing this marriage for all the years we’ve been together? Would
you, Maxwell?’ She waited a second for his response, and when it did
not come, she carried on. ‘In all honesty, I wanted her to understand
that I did not deliberately break her marriage, that I did not know you
were a family man.’
Something inside him gave. In provoked fury, he leapt to his feet
and grabbed her by the shoulders. ‘You fucking bitch! Just who the hell
do you think you are? Do you really believe that you are in my wife’s
league, that you could walk in there and have a sensible conversation
with her? How she must have seen through you to the empty-headed
and foolish woman that you are!’
‘Oh. Now you think of me as a low-class bitch, a foolish woman?
If she was that smart and elite, why couldn’t you be content with her
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and not chase after me for all these years? Is it because you knew she
couldn’t satisfy your sexual desires? Each time you took me to bed and
begged for it, did you not know that I was nothing but trash to you?
Answer me, you bastard!’
‘One of these days you’re going to push me too far. Only heaven
knows what I’ll do to you,’ he said as he rose from his seat and walked
straight to the bedroom without looking back. For the rest of the day
he remained in bed, refusing to come out for meals. That night, as
Kristal lay beside him in bed, he thought of many ways to get rid of
her. If only he had the courage to throttle her until there was no more
breath left in her! But he was not the kind to hurt a fly. He had heard
of women dying after giving birth, from post-partum haemorrhage.
Secretly he wished it would happen to her. That way he would be free
of her for good. But it is a dreadful thing to hate your partner, to resent
the stronghold she has on your life, to cringe when she is near you and
to wish she would die.
Once again, when Kristal drew closer to him and wrapped her
arms around him, he pulled away and faced the wall. That was hurtful
to her. All through the night she was unable to sleep, sensing the wall
he had created between them, and the coldness inside him. All she ever
wanted was for their relationship to get back to how it was before, and
for them to be a family. But she could not shake the feeling that he still
loved his wife and was mourning the death of their marriage. She cried
herself to sleep, sobbing softly so he would not hear.
The real crunch came the next evening when Maxwell announced
that he was moving into the guest bedroom. They’d had dinner, and
David had been safely tucked in bed. Maxwell had a can of cold beer
in his hand, leaning back on his chair with his legs crossed underneath
the table. Kristal had a tall glass of orange juice.
‘Why are you doing this to me, Maxwell? What have I done to you
to deserve this cold and aloof attitude you’ve been showing me ever
since you moved in with us?’ Tears of helplessness were streaming
down her face.
‘I need breathing space in which to reflect on everything that has
happened.’
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‘What’s there to reflect on, darling? We have a healthy handsome

son and two beautiful girls on the way. We’re a family now, don’t you
see that?’
‘That’s exactly my point, Kristal. I also happen to have a wife and a
five-year-old son who needs me.’
‘A wife and a son you’ve conveniently been hiding in a closet until
now! Wake up and smell the coffee, Maxwell! Your wife has thrown
you out of her life, for goodness’ sake. It would be stupid of you to keep
clinging onto this hope that she might take you back.’
He looked down at his hands, not sure what to say.
She reached out and took his hand. ‘Listen to me, darling. Your
son is always going to be a part of your life. You can fetch him on
weekends and on school holidays so he could play with David. They’re
half-brothers, they need to bond and get to know each other well.’
‘It’s easy for you to say that,’ he said, lifting his beer to his mouth.
The snag was that he was unable to tell her the real truth, that he
could no longer bear sleeping next to her and feeling her body
brushing against his. He finished his drink and retired to the guest
bedroom. That was all that Kristal could handle; it was the final straw.
Unknowingly, he had pushed her over the frustration threshold. That
night as she tossed and turned in bed she thought with bitterness about
what Maxwell was doing to her. By the early hours of the morning
when she still could not fall asleep, something inside her snapped, like
a thin, dry twig. And when she woke up the next morning, she was in
a vengeful mood, filled with determination to retaliate. He was not
going to treat her like some piece of furniture you simply get rid of
when you no longer have any more use for it. If she was not going to
have him, nobody else would.
It was a cloudy Monday morning. Kristal waited quietly in bed
until Maxwell had left for work, taking little David with him to drop off
at kindergarten. No sooner had she heard the car speed off down the
road than she jumped out of bed to run a bubble bath. Her eyelids, as
she checked her reflection in the bathroom mirror, were swollen from
all the sobbing. It broke her heart that Maxwell could not be bothered
to peek into her bedroom just to check on her, or even to come in and
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kiss her goodbye. She was more convinced than ever that he no longer
had any feelings for her. It was his wife he loved, and would always
love.
After she was dressed and had applied make-up to her face, she
hurried to the kitchen to scramble up her breakfast. Though very
hungry, she picked at it with no show of appetite. But in the end she
forced herself to finish her meal, recognising that she was not only
eating for herself, but also for her two unborn girls. Minutes later
she was in her car and driving towards town. She needed to make
an urgent call from a pay phone, careful not to risk using her mobile
phone. Nothing could be traced back to her.
Over her white cotton dress she wore an oversized black coat that
completely concealed her bulging abdomen. Her head and face were
covered with a black scarf, while dark sunglasses hid her eyes. Once
again, she smirked in the satisfaction that she was unrecognisable.
Even her cold-blooded fiancé would not be able to recognise her. Down
the road, as she continued to circle the streets in town, she spotted a
pay phone and immediately parked her car a few yards away from it.
Before she stepped into the booth, she looked around, making certain
she had not been noticed and followed by unscrupulous reporters. She
closed the door behind her, inserted her coins into the pay slot, and
began dialling. On the fourth ring, a man’s voice answered. He was
chewing bubblegum so loudly that Kristal could hear it over the phone.
It irritated her; she almost shouted at him to stop.
‘Matthew, it’s me, Kristal,’ she whispered.
‘My sweet Kristal, to what do I owe this phone call?’
‘Listen to me. I don’t have much time. I’m using a pay phone.
There’s something I need you to do for me.’
‘Anything for you, Kristal. Just name it and it will be done.’ The
chewing got louder. She tasted bile in her mouth.
‘You know the man I’ve been going out with, the father of my son,
don’t you?’ she asked.
‘You mean the mighty legal giant, Mr Richardson? Who doesn’t
know him? I read yesterday’s newspaper article. The son of a bitch ...
I could kill him for what he did to you. He’s got no idea how many of
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us are lining up to grab you and sweet-talk you into marriage. You’re
a beautiful woman, Kristy darling. Don’t ever let anyone tell you
otherwise.’
Kristal had mixed emotions. On one hand, she was deeply touched
by the sweet words Matthew had just said about her. But on the
other hand, she shuddered inside at the thought of being married to
someone like him. She might be low-class, as Maxwell had maliciously
insinuated, but she was not that trashy as to fancy Matthew. The mere
thought of him touching her caused the nausea to start rolling up the
back of her throat.
‘The reason I called you, Matthew, is because I need you to silence
him.’
He coughed abruptly. ‘Just hold on for a second, Kristy,’ he said
between bouts of coughing. He pulled out a small tape recorder from
the pocket of his jacket, switched it on and held it to the receiver, then
said, ‘Okay, Kristal, what were you saying before I interrupted you?’ He
asked deliberately, forcing her to repeat herself.
‘I said I want you to silence Maxwell Richardson. It’s that loud
chewing that’s preventing you from hearing me. Can’t you just spit it
out, for goodness’ sake?’ It’s making me nauseous.
A devious smile appeared on his lips. He had managed to get her to
say what he wanted over the phone.
‘Do you want Maxwell Richardson to suffer before he dies, Kristy
darling?’
She did not reply immediately, pondering the question. This
was the man she had loved for four years, the father of her son and
her unborn twins. She did not want to live with the memory of his
anguished death. She shook her head slowly. ‘No, Mathew. I want it to
be painless.’
‘In that case, a bullet in the head will suffice. When do you want it
done?’
‘I’m giving birth to my twins anytime now. I want him to have a
little time to get to know them and to bond with them before he goes.
The memory of their tiny faces should be imprinted in his mind as
he gasps his last breath. So ... I’d say about two months from now.
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But it has to happen far away from the house. His parking at his office
building is underground, number twenty-five. There are no cameras
there. Just make sure nobody sees you. And don’t call me. I’ll call you.
Do you understand, Matthew?’
‘Perfectly. But I’ll need payment upfront; you know how these
things work. A deposit will do. The rest you’ll settle after.’ He spat out
his gum, and immediately thrust another one into his mouth.
‘When do you need the money?’
He thought of his mother’s hospital bills. Just the other day, the
clerks at the hospital refused to pull out her medical file so she could
see the doctor until she had settled her account. Her condition was
deteriorating at an increasingly rapid pace. He had to get the money,
to save her. He licked his lips. ‘Tomorrow afternoon. I’ll meet you at
three thirty at the Grill House on Jules street. You do know where it is,
don’t you?’
She said she did, and hung up after a quick goodbye.
The next afternoon, at exactly three thirty, Kristal slipped out of
her car with a thick brown envelope in her hand. She reached the street
corner and looked around nervously for Matthew. He appeared from
behind her and tapped her shoulder, startling her.
They talked for a short while before Kristal handed him the envelope.
But she was completely unaware of a man standing behind a stationary
truck with a camera dangling around his neck, photographing her
from the time she slipped out of her car until she handed Matthew the
envelope. The man watched with gratification on his face as she drove
away. He waited a while until she had disappeared before he emerged
and walked across the street to where Matthew was waiting. Seconds
later, the photographer exchanged the photographs for a few hundred-
rand notes from the envelope.
Long after the photographer had left, Mathew remained standing
at the street corner, thoughtful, studying the photographs. He was
leaning with his back against the streetlight, legs crossed before him.
A content grin appeared on his face. He had been cheated too many
times by ruthless people like Kristal who approached him smiling and
subdued when they needed something taken care of, only to treat him
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like dirt afterwards, refusing to pay him. No one cared that he had to
pay his mother’s hospital bills with money he did not have. And no
one cared a damn that he had a wife and four children to support, all
cramped in a house that seemed like it would fall over during strong
winds.
He slid the photographs into the envelope and stuffed it into
the back pocket of his jeans. As he walked to his worn-out Vauxhall
jalopy, he was thinking silently to himself: She has not seen the last
of me; there’s more where this money is coming from and I’m going
to rake deeper into that. He knew of the policy for one million rand
that Maxwell had taken immediately after Kristal had given birth to his
son, the one of which she was the sole beneficiary. She would have to
share that with him, or at least give him a quarter of it. And if she dared
to play dirty with him, he would give her a copy of the cassette and the
pictures. That would be enough to scare her off. He grinned, exposing
his missing front teeth.
He drove slowly out of town, imagining all the things he could do
with the money. It would redeem him before his wife, who constantly
threatened to leave him for a better man who made an honest living
out of a regular day-job. Though he’d never confronted her before,
he knew that she’d entertained a few men in his bed while he was in
prison. Not that he was complaining. He’d had steamy nights of sex
with the stripper girls at the local club. One even claimed he’d fathered
her child. Naturally he had swiftly denied it, knowing that he was
not the only man in her life. She was a whore and had a reputation
of taking different men to her bed each weekend. Paternity was never
proven. The stupid woman could not afford the test.
He thought of Maxwell with a pang. What a pity for a man of his
calibre to land up with a cheap and immoral woman like Kristal. His
mind started to go down memory lane. Ever since she was seventeen,
Kristal had always been rumoured to be generous with men, way
too generous. Men begged her for it, some willing to pay exorbitant
amounts of money just to lay her for a few minutes. They kept going
back for it. But they were smart enough not to get her pregnant, to
avoid being tied to her for the rest of their lives. Maxwell should have
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done the same thing: got from her what he wanted and then walked
away while there was still time. But he didn’t. Now he was going to pay
with his life.
What a fall from grace!
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CHAPTER TEN
A week after her story appeared in the papers, Mandy was back at work.
She was carrying a sales report to her boss’ office when she caught sight
of the nosy receptionist in serious conversation with a group of office
assistants at the reception desk. As soon as they saw her they dispersed,
looking at her strangely. She could tell what they were thinking by
their eyes. Tom had warned her about office gossip. She couldn’t walk
anywhere in the building without people staring her. But she knew she
couldn’t stop them from gossiping about her, from rejoicing over her
calamity. She derived some consolation from the fact that they could
say whatever they liked about her, as long as they did not say it to her
face.
At her mother’s insistence, Mandy advertised for a housekeeper.
Mandy’s best friend, Sharon, conducted the interviews. Only when
Sharon had found the most suitable candidate, and when the interview
had gone successfully, did she send the housekeeper to Mandy’s house.
She arrived on Mandy’s doorstep one hot afternoon. Mandy had
just got home from work and was busy preparing dinner when the
intercom buzzed. ‘Madam, my name is Rachel Meadow. I’m your
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new housekeeper.’ Mandy let her in and helped carry her luggage to
the bedroom next to Danny’s. Rachel was a short, stout and cheerful
looking woman in her early forties. She wore a navy blue dress,
buttoned all the way down the front, with a white starched collar. It
was the uniform Sharon had provided her.
From the bedroom, she followed Mandy to the kitchen and watched
her as she laid the dinner table. With Maxwell no longer living with
them, Mandy preferred having their dinner in the kitchen and not in
the dining room; that way she could not be tormented by the one chair
that Maxwell always occupied at the table. It was still impossible not to
think about him without feeling a shooting pain in her heart.
‘Do you mind if I help you, madam?’ Rachel asked.
Mandy shook her head politely. ‘No thanks, Rachel. You duties will
start tomorrow morning,’ she replied, looking her up and down. She
was already taking a liking to her. ‘Please call me Mandy.’ She hated
to be addressed as madam. It made her feel as if she was running a
brothel.
Rachel hesitated for a second, and shook her head in disagreement.
‘It would be disrespectful of me if I called you by your name, madam.’
Mandy shrugged her shoulders and gave in.
Within a few days, Rachel had proved herself a worthy housekeeper.
It was not long before she became good friends with Mandy, and her
confidante.
On one hot evening, after Mandy had settled Danny into bed, she
was sitting on the balcony of the upstairs bedroom with Rachel. They
had icy glasses of lemonade in their hands. Mandy had a lonely look on
her face. It did not go unnoticed by her housekeeper. She leaned over
the table to take a closer look at her. ‘Are you all right, madam? You
seem a bit distracted and sad.’
‘I can’t help shaking this feeling that I might have done something
to push my husband into another woman’s arms.’
Rachel gave her a puzzled look, raising her eyebrows in question.
‘And what makes you think that, madam?’
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‘There was a time when I used to travel a lot in my job, going away
from home for days. He must have felt lonely then. And you know how
men are; when they get lonely they tend to do foolish things.’
‘But foolish enough to screw up their marriages?’ She flung her
hand to her mouth as soon as the words left her. ‘Please forgive my
foul language, madam, but it will be foolish of you to blame yourself
for someone else’s infidelity. In the short time I’ve known you, I have
no doubt that you were nothing but a good wife to him, and a doting
mother to his son. He did what he did because it’s an integral part of
who he is. He allowed infidelity to define him.’
‘I suppose you’re right, Rachel,’ Mandy said in a sad voice.
‘I know I’m right, madam. A lot of women blame themselves for
whatever goes wrong in their relationships and households. It hampers
their efforts to come to terms with reality and to pick up the pieces and
move on. I don’t want you to do that to yourself.’
One afternoon, Mandy was in her office, going through the minutes
of the previous month’s meeting she’d had with her sales team. Her
phone broke her concentration. The receptionist announced that there
was someone to see her.
‘I’m not expecting anyone this afternoon. I have a meeting in five
minutes. Whoever he is, please tell him for me I can’t see him.’
The receptionist remained adamant. ‘He says it’s very important.
He’s got something to deliver to you and wants you sign for it in person.’
She exhaled deeply. ‘Okay. I’ll be down in a minute.’
At reception, Mandy was met by a man she had never seen before.
‘Are you Mrs Mandy Richardson?’ the man asked before Mandy
could greet him.
‘Yes,’ she replied, frowning.
‘I’m from the solicitors. I have documents to deliver to you,’ he said
in an icy voice that sent a sudden chill up her spine.
It was the word ‘solicitors’ that caused Mandy to start trembling.
She watched anxiously as the man reached into his worn-out leather
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bag, pulled out a brown envelope, and handed it to her. She was still
shaking as she signed for the envelope. Back in her office Mandy studied
the envelope, reluctant to open it. She’d developed this reluctance for
opening envelopes since Maxwell had left. Even before she pulled out
the documents, she knew what was inside. Maxwell was divorcing her.
She read the divorce papers, and read them again, before she
eventually folded them back into the envelope. A part of her wanted to
cry, but being well accustomed to pain, she sat there quietly, calming
herself by chewing the end of the pencil between her fingers. ‘So, he
couldn’t wait to get this marriage out of his way so he could marry
his mistress,’ she was thinking silently to herself, her head shaking
lightly. The enthusiasm to attend the meeting left her. She resented the
idea of sitting there unable to make any contribution because she was
detached and disconnected. She picked up the phone and called Tom,
asking him to send her apology. Twenty minutes later, she was driving
on the narrow road heading to Danny’s school.
For days on end Mandy carried the divorce papers in her bag.
Each night before she fell asleep she sat propped up in bed, reading
the papers over and over again as she tried to come to terms with the
inevitable. He was offering her a lucrative settlement, including the
house she was currently living in and the holiday beach house. For a
while she was tempted to accept the offer and sign the papers. But she
put them back in her briefcase, unsigned. She wanted to let him wait,
him and his solicitor!
One late Friday afternoon, Mandy arrived home from work
exhausted, only to find that Rachel had taken the time to prepare a
delicious dinner. But she was not hungry, and only picked at the food
to please Rachel. Rachel noticed. She waited until she had cleared the
dinner table and tucked Danny into bed before she had a private chat
with Mandy. They sat on the back veranda with a simmering pot of tea
before them.
Rachel poured their tea. As she passed Mandy her mug, she
regarded her steadily. ‘Something was bothering you all through
dinner. Do you want to tell me about it, madam?’ she asked tentatively.
She saw herself not only as a housekeeper, but as Mandy’s big sister.
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Mandy was conscious of that and secretly enjoyed it. She really did
need someone around the house to take care of her. Rachel waited for
her answer, her sympathetic eyes fastened on her.
Mandy was hesitant for a long moment as she continued to drink
her tea, and then the words began to tumble out of her in a sad voice.
‘My husband is divorcing me, Rachel. I received the divorce papers two
weeks ago.’
‘And you’re not sure if you want to sign them?’ Rachel asked, taking
her hand and squeezing it.
‘I’ve given this man ten years of my life. This marriage meant
everything to me, Rachel. When I made my vows I meant to keep them
till death separated us. I can’t let him get his way. He’s never going to
get a divorce from me. He can live with his mistress but that will be
about all,’ she retorted.
‘Sometimes signing the papers is all the fight you need, madam.’
Mandy looked sharply at her. What she had just said was very
powerful, something that had never occurred to her. Deep within
her heart she recognised that Rachel was right. A diminutive smile
brushed her lips. In the short time that Rachel had lived with them,
Mandy had got to know and appreciate her as a smart woman; wiser
than Mandy in more ways than one. Secretly she wondered if Rachel
had also experienced betrayal in her life. She was tempted to probe, but
decided against it. One day, when all the emotions had quietened, she
would broach the subject.
They finished their tea in silence and remained sitting there for
a long while, looking out at the starry sky with the cool night breeze
brushing against their faces, allowing the serenity of the night to sweep
over them.
That night, Mandy sat in bed, the divorce papers on her lap as usual.
She pulled a pen from her briefcase; without any hesitation, she signed.
Immediately afterwards, she was engulfed by a cloud of desolation. It
felt as though she had just signed her life away. When she arrived at
work the next morning, she knew she looked wretched. She said she
had not slept well to cover up the truth. But she looked much worse
than any lack of sleep could account for. Grief had aged her overnight.
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Something inside her had died. There was a gaping emptiness in her
heart, a vacuum she was not sure anything or anyone would ever fill.
At lunchtime she sneaked out of the office for her appointment
with her lawyer. Her breathing was shallow; she sat across the long
mahogany table from him. He had the divorce papers in his hand,
his concentration steady as he studied them. And when satisfied that
everything seemed in order, he shifted his eyes to gaze at her. ‘Do
you have any intention to contest the divorce, Mrs Richardson? He’s
certainly offering you a worthwhile settlement, and is providing well
for your son, willing to share his custody too. If I were you I’d accept it.’
Mandy shook her head indifferently. ‘I agree with you. There won’t
be any reason to contest it. Neither do I have any intention to appear in
court. How long will it take before it’s over?’
The lawyer leaned back on his chair and remained thoughtful for a
little while. ‘I’d give it about a month.’
‘I can live with that. Please keep me updated.’
As the lawyer walked her to the door, she secretly wondered if she
really needed to return to work. When she reached her car, she called
in sick and drove straight home, making a mental note to call Sharon
to ask her to pick Danny up from school with her boys.
In the days that followed, Mandy drifted into a state of grief from
which nothing could rouse her, not the doctor’s sedatives, nor her
family’s unfailing support, nor friends telling her that she would be all
right over time. Her wounds ran deep. Not a single day went by that
she didn’t think of Maxwell and his mistress. They were constantly in
her mind, like an active virus: at night when she went to bed, and in
the morning when she woke up. Her grief was not depression because
depression is when nothing matters; it was sadness, because sadness is
when everything matters. It mattered a great deal to her that she had
lost the only man she had ever loved in her entire life, the same man
who had taken away her virginity at her tender age of twenty three.
She had saved herself for him when all her friends were sexually active.
It also mattered to her that she had lost the marriage she had so
much invested in. Her life had revolved around it; it was the alpha and
omega of her very existence. And now her husband had moved on with
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his life. She had stagnated in hers, suddenly unable to plan for much
longer than a day.
As time passed, her grief turned into depression. The depression
deepened by the day. With her husband out of her life she no longer
had an intimate companion, no one to talk to in the bedroom, and no
one to love her as a woman needed to be loved – with kisses and with
whispers of the tender words of love. Bit by bit, negative feelings began
to cloud her mind. In the end, she came to believe that no man would
ever find her desirable again. She wholly believed that she possessed
no skills to lead a man beyond his sexual imagination, beyond himself.
Her depression dragged her self-confidence to the lowest of low
levels. She could no longer look at herself in the mirror and smirk in
the satisfaction that she was a very pretty and elegant woman. The
enthusiasm to dress up elegantly, to apply make-up and to wear her
glittering jewellery suddenly ebbed away. Each morning, as she dressed
for work, she pulled out what she could find, and not what she needed
to wear. She lost the desire to spend a few moments admiring herself
in front of the mirror.
When once she used to sit with a tall glass of juice in her hand
and enjoy her favourite programmes and movies, or the afternoon
newspaper, she now preferred to sit alone in her bedroom and mull
over her ruined marriage. Going out to the stores and standing in
queues was torture for her. When people stared at her, smiling, she
thought they were laughing at her. At work, she consistently missed
important deadlines and meetings. And when corrected she would
break down in tears, believing she was no longer appreciated by her
company.
One Saturday afternoon, Rachel found her vacuuming the living
room. It left her completely baffled – Mandy knew very well that she
had no reason at all to be doing any chores around the house. That
was the job Rachel was hired to do. For a long moment, she remained
standing at the doorway, watching her madam with a sombre look
on her face. Some feeling told her that something was terribly wrong
with Mandy. She took a few steps into the room until she was standing
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across from her. ‘Madam, I vacuumed all the carpets in the house this
morning. Why are you vacuuming them again?’
Mandy turned on her, as if about to grab her by her collar. ‘I don’t
think so, Rachel.’ Her voice rose to a yell. ‘Just see for yourself how
dirty they are, and you’re telling me you’ve had them cleaned? Look at
all the stains!’
Rachel reached out and grabbed Mandy by her shoulders. ‘I can’t
see any stains. Show me exactly where the dirt is,’ she demanded
stubbornly.
‘Here, and here, and there. Can’t you see them?’ Her lips were
trembling, the veins in her neck engorged.
Rachel shook her head ferociously. ‘No madam, I can’t see any
stains on this carpet. Please, let go of this machine. You must be tired;
you need to rest. I’ll go make you a nice cup of tea.’ More than ever,
she was certain that Mandy’s strange behaviour was connected to her
divorce. She had heard of women who’d crumbled under the pain of
divorce, who’d ended up being institutionalised in mental hospitals.
Her heart was filled with sincere sympathy for Mandy as she wrestled
the vacuum cleaner from her grip. Mandy realised Rachel was too
powerful for her; she let go of the vacuum cleaner and dissolved into
tears. Rachel put her arm around Mandy’s shoulder and led her out of
the room.
As they reached the top of the stairs, Mandy looked across at
Rachel. She was still crying. ‘I’m so scared, Rachel. I don’t know what’s
going on with me. I feel like I’m steadily losing my mind. Sometimes
I don’t even know who I am anymore,’ she sobbed. Her senses were
returning.
‘You’re going through a gruelling experience. But I can assure you
that everything will be all right, madam. I’m here to help you.’
Later, as Rachel was sitting in bed and knitting a jersey for Danny,
she could not help but think about Mandy. Although she had made it
a rule never to get emotionally involved with her employers, Mandy
was very special to her. She was beautiful, kind-hearted and respectful.
And she had suffered a lot of pain; Rachel could read it in her eyes. All
she wanted was to help her, to reach out and ease her pain. Long after
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she had put away her knitting and switched off the lights, she found
she could not fall asleep. She lay awake in the dark, worrying her heart
out and wondering if Mandy was all right in her bedroom. There had
been a moment when Rachel wanted to insist on spending the night
on the couch in Mandy’s bedroom, just to keep an eye on her. But she
had dismissed the thought, hating to appear paranoid and obsessed.
Rachel had no idea when her sleep finally came. All she could
remember was waking up to a strange sound coming from somewhere
in the passage. Could it be an intruder? Fear gripped her. She switched
on the lamp and leapt out of bed, immediately looking for something
she could use to defend herself. Inside the wardrobe she found
Maxwell’s baseball bat. She grabbed it and tiptoed out of the bedroom
into the dimly lit passage, her robe tightened around her waist. The
noise seemed to come from the laundry room. The room was lit, and
the door half open. Rachel peeped in and was left petrified to find
Mandy standing at the ironing board with the iron in her hand. A
bundle of freshly ironed clothes were lying on the large sofa in front
of her. It seemed as if she had been doing the ironing for hours – but
she was ironing the same clothes that Rachel had already ironed that
afternoon.
Rachel knew at that very instant that Mandy was emotionally
disturbed, and that she needed urgent medical intervention before she
caused harm to herself. She thought of Mandy’s mother. Mandy had
once told her that she was a specialist doctor. If she gave her a phone
call she would know exactly what to do; she’d perhaps even take the
first flight in the morning to come and be with her.
Just as Rachel was about to step inside the room, Mandy started to
talk as if she was having a serious conversation with someone in the
room. Rachel looked around, thinking perhaps that her own ears and
eyes were playing tricks on her. But there was no one in the room with
Mandy.
‘Who are you talking to, madam?’ she inquired.
Mandy pointed to an empty chair before her. ‘I’m talking to my
husband, can’t you see? He’s come back home to us.’
A rush of sympathy washed over her. She took Mandy by the hand
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and, without asking her, walked her to her bedroom. As she tucked her
into bed she said, ‘This time I’m not leaving you alone, madam. That
couch over there, I’m going to sleep on it. And tomorrow morning,
you and I are going to see your doctor. I’m not taking no for an answer.’
‘Do you think I’m crazy, Rachel?’
‘No madam, you’re not crazy. A little bit disturbed, but certainly
not crazy. Now, sit quietly in bed while I run downstairs to make us a
nice pot of tea. I’ll be back before you know it.’
While she waited for the water to boil, Rachel allowed her thoughts
to run wildly. She thought she understood how heavily the betrayal
of her husband weighed on Mandy’s heart, because she too had
experienced the same thing early in life with her husband. It was not
long after their wedding that she realised she had committed her life
to a drunkard, a womaniser and a hectoring husband. He was a weekly
paid plumber. Every Friday, when he received his pay, he made his
first stop at the local casino and gambled all the money away while
entertaining his filthy stinking girlfriends, buying them liquor just
so he could get them to bed. And when he finally arrived home in
the middle of the night, he beat her up, for no apparent reason. Her
children would pound on the door, screaming, ‘stop it, daddy, stop it’.
But he would not stop until he had satisfied his weak manly ego with
her. And when he had to go back to work on Monday morning, he
would look at her with no shred of shame on his face, asking for money
to buy his weekly bus ticket. Even as she thought about him, years after
he died of liver cirrhosis, she still cringed inside in utter resentment for
him. Her life had been so much better without him in it.
Later she returned to the bedroom carrying the tea tray. She poured
the tea and held a cup to Mandy, and then poured one for herself. For
a long while, they drank the tea in silence, both deeply immersed in
their own thoughts.
The tea was delicious. Mandy asked for another cup; as soon as she
had finished drinking it, she looked at Rachel with those sad eyes. ‘Do
you think I’m still desirable ... I mean ... sexually desirable to a man?’
Rachel was taken aback by the question. It was completely
unexpected. She did not answer immediately. When she finally spoke,
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she locked eyes with Mandy. ‘Of course you’re sexually desirable. What
makes you even doubt that, madam?’
‘Then why did my husband lust for another woman when he had
me right here to satisfy his conjugal rights anytime he needed me?’
Rachel could not find an answer to that. If she had known the
answer herself, she would have replied. But who knows what goes on in
the minds of men? Only they themselves know. She put her cup down
and wrapped her arm around her. ‘Stop wallowing in self-pity, madam,
and don’t close yourself off. One day some man will come and sweep
you off your feet, and marry you.’
‘And we’ll live happily ever after,’ Mandy said, with hope glittering
in her sad eyes.
‘Yes, madam, you’ll live happily ever after. One day you’ll be
grateful for the marriage that did not work out, because another door
will open up.’
But Mandy remained reassured only for a short while. That glitter
of hope in her eyes disappeared with the same swiftness in which it had
crept up. ‘I wish he would die,’ she said, with resentment that startled
even Rachel.
‘Who, madam?’ she inquired, eyes searching her face.
‘My husband. I wish he would die.’
‘Why would you wish for him to die?’
‘For doing what he did to me.’ She was on the brink of tears.
A disturbing silence followed. Rachel could not take that statement
lightly. Two things were likely to happen: she would find a way to harm
her husband, or take her own life. A rational voice in the back of her
mind warned her to do something before it was too late.
She got unsteadily to her feet. ‘Please pardon me, madam. I need
the bathroom. I’ll be back in a flash so we can finish our conversation.’
She started for the door with a determination on her face. At the door
she turned and looked over her shoulder, stealing a glimpse at Mandy,
worried sick about leaving her alone even for a few seconds. She
caught her staring back at her with a distant look on her face as though
her mind was no longer in her body. A cold chill ran up the back of
her neck. As she ran down the stairs, her body felt like it was floating.
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By the time she reached the living room she was breathing heavily,
literally gasping for air. She grabbed the phone in her hand and began
dialling. As it rang she looked fearfully behind her, as if expecting to
find Mandy standing at the top of the stairs looking down at her.
The phone rang for a while longer. Just when Rachel began to think
it was never going to be answered, a sleepy voice cracked on the line.
It was Mandy’s mother. ‘Who’s this calling at this time of the night?’
‘Mrs Jackson, this is Rachel, Mandy’s housekeeper. I’m sorry to
disturb you at this time of the night.’
The drowsiness in her voice was suddenly replaced by fright.
‘Rachel! Oh Lord! Is something wrong? Mandy and Danny ... are they
all right?’
‘Danny is fine and sleeping peacefully. It’s madam I’m worried
about. She’s been acting quite strangely.’
She heard Mrs Jackson gasp loudly on the phone. ‘In which way
has she been acting strangely, Rachel?’
Rachel took a few moments to relate the odd incidents, making
sure she did not leave anything out.
‘It was wise of you to call me. I’m taking the first flight in the
morning. Keep a close eye on her. Do you have Tom’s number, by any
chance?’
‘It’s in the notebook on the telephone table, where I found yours.’
‘Good. If anything happens, don’t hesitate to call him. It doesn’t
matter if it’s the middle of the night, do you hear me, Rachel?’
‘Yes, Mrs Jackson.’ She hung up the phone, forgetting to say
goodbye, and ran back upstairs. Strangely, when she stepped into
Mandy’s bedroom, she found her snuggled deep into the pillows with
her eyes shut, and snoring softly. She tapped her shoulder just to make
certain she was indeed asleep. Her snoring got louder. But it did not
surprise her that her sleep had come so soon after she had left the
room. Her body must have taken a real knock following the hours of
doing all the ironing. For a long while she stood there, looking down at
her sleeping form and seeing no reason anymore to sleep on the couch
in her bedroom. After all, in three hours it would be daytime, when she
would be back to check on her. Before she left the room, she pulled the
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bedclothes over Mandy’s shoulder, switched off the light and returned
to her own bedroom.
Mandy waited until she was sure Rachel was in bed before she
opened her eyes and switched on the side lamp. The painful wounds
her husband had caused her were becoming increasingly difficult to
tolerate. She needed something to numb her pain and to save her
from further suffering, once and for all. Suddenly she was suicidally
despondent. For her death was her only deliverance, her only escape
from anguish. She lay staring up at the ceiling and thinking of all the
ways she could end it. Asphyxiate herself with a tight rope around her
neck. But the prospect sent a shiver up her spine. It would be a long and
painful death. Perhaps a hose through the window of her car with the
other end connected to the exhaust pipe. The anticipation of it caused
her to bubble with excitement inside. But the excitement was short-
lived as she painfully realised there was no hose in the house. They
only used a sprinkler system in the garden. And then she remembered
the sedatives the doctor had given her. There were still a handful of
them in the packet. They would do the trick. She put on her robe and
tiptoed to the kitchen, grateful that Rachel had had the consideration
to leave all the lights in the hallway and the living room on.
She took the tablets from the medicine box and swallowed them
with water before returning to bed, remembering to close the bedroom
door behind her. She switched off the side lamp and lay on her back,
patiently waiting for her death to arrive. Her heart started to quicken.
She could almost visualise the gates of heaven and the angels singing
and dancing happily as they welcomed her back home. Little by little,
that feeling of lightness and freedom began to flow around and inside
her, as if she and death were one. Her head started to spin around and
around as though she was on a merry-go-round and someone was
pushing it faster, she pulled the bedclothes over her head, thinking,
what a nice way to go! She was slowly fading into unconsciousness.
Suddenly she saw before her a hazy image of Danny. He was yelling
at her with tears streaming uncontrollably down his cheeks, ‘Mummy,
please don’t leave me. I don’t want you to go.’
From a distance she could make out a low cloud moving on the
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horizon. Imagining it had come to fetch her, she began to crawl towards
it until she was inches away.
And then a miracle happened.
The cloud opened up and out of it emerged her late grandfather,
dressed in white. There was a bright light all around him, so bright
that she could not see anything beyond him. He was beckoning her
to go back. She dissolved in tears, screaming, ‘No grandpa, you don’t
understand! It’s my time now. I’m weary of the painful life in this world
and need to enter the gates of heaven so I can have eternal peace.’ But
her grandfather seemed not to hear her, because he kept signalling her
to go back, flinging his hands back and forth as he did that.
Without warning, her instincts for survival kicked in, so strongly
that they completely overpowered her need for deliverance by death.
All of a sudden she wanted to live, more than anything; if not for
herself, then for Danny. She wrestled to keep conscious, and knew she
had to call for help. Rachel ... yes! There was a reason she’d come to
live with them. She was the one who was going to save her. The man
upstairs always performs miracles, sending an angel your way long
before the storm comes. All she needed to do was yell, as loudly as
she could, and Rachel would come running. She opened her mouth,
but no sound came out. Fear had paralysed her. The door, she thought
frantically – she had to get to the door and crawl down the stairs to
Rachel’s bedroom. Time was running out. Every second counted. She
could feel her life gradually ebbing from her.
As she tried to get out of bed, her hand brushed against the tea tray,
causing it to topple over. The cups and saucers rattled as they smashed
to the ground. The sound echoed in the stillness of the house; then
everything inside and around her darkened.
Downstairs, Rachel was half asleep and half awake when she
thought she heard a noise upstairs. Strong intuition told her something
was terribly wrong. In one swift movement, she jumped out of bed and
began running up the staircase. When she reached Mandy’s bedroom,
she let fly her foot and kicked open the door, immediately looking
around the room in bewilderment. Fear smothered her when she
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found the bedside lamp burning and Mandy not in bed where she had
left her.
And then she saw her, curled on the floor, her body almost lifeless.
For a split second Rachel remained frozen where she was standing,
not sure what to do next. Nothing in the room suggested an intruder;
she was not aware of Mandy having any illness that could have caused
her to fall out of bed and appear so lifeless. She ran towards Mandy
and flopped beside her, picking her limp body up in her arms and
shaking her frantically, ‘Madam, what happened? Please ... talk to me.
Wake up!’ But Mandy did not stir nor open her eyes. Out of sheer
desperation, she looked up at the ceiling with eyes shut, and mumbled
a little prayer. ‘Please God, let her live. I’ll do anything you want me
to do if you will only spare her life. Her prayer seemed unanswered;
Mandy remained unresponsive. She thought of performing cardio-
pulmonary resuscitation, but could hardly remember how it was done.
It was that feeling of helplessness that brought her closest to the verge
of hysteria. When she placed her cheek to Mandy’s nostrils, she could
feel her breath and knew she was alive. There was some breath in her
body. She almost leapt with gratitude. If only she could get her to the
hospital on time!
Just then Tom’s name flashed through her head. ‘Why didn’t I think
of him sooner?’ she said out loud as she fled to the living room. She
found his number and dialled it immediately.
The phone rang and continued to ring. In her edginess she began
tapping a finger on the telephone table, her one foot stamping the floor
until her toes went numb. Just then, at her moment of despair, Tom
answered the phone. He sounded sleepy, and annoyed at the same time
for having his sleep interrupted.
‘Who’s this?’
‘Tom, this is Rachel ... Mandy’s housekeeper. The ambulance ... call
the ambulance ... it’s madam ... she can’t wake up.’
‘Rachel, calm down and tell me what’s wrong.’ He was trying to
sound calm despite his fear. Rachel had never called him – whatever
was wrong with Mandy had to be pretty serious.
Rachel calmed herself by breathing through her mouth. It seemed
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to help; when next she spoke, she was able to put words together
coherently. ‘Madam seems to be unconscious. I tried to wake her but
she can’t open her eyes.’
‘Jesus Christ!’ Tom exclaimed. ‘Is she breathing, Rachel?’
She swallowed hard. ‘Yes ... there’s air coming from her nostrils. I
felt it with my cheek.’
‘I’m going to call the ambulance, and I’ll be there myself in just a
few minutes. Now, listen to me very carefully, Rachel. Go back to her
and see if you can get her to talk to you, anything to jolt her out of
her unconsciousness.’ As he dropped the phone he realised he had not
been making any sense at all. He was no doctor and had no inkling of
what instructions to give her.
Rachel was holding Mandy in her arms, singing softly to her as
she continued to rock her in her arms. From a distance she heard the
approaching sound of sirens. Within seconds, the intercom downstairs
buzzed. She grabbed the extension in the bedroom and answered. It
was Tom. ‘Rachel it’s me. Open the gate and the front door too. The
ambulance is coming up the road.’
Within seconds, footsteps thudded as paramedics stormed the
house and ran up the stairs to Mandy’s bedroom. Tom appeared at
the doorway and started running behind. When they reached the top
of the staircase, Tom helped the two paramedics to steer the stretcher
through the bedroom door. As soon as they had closed the door behind
them, Rachel dashed to the phone to call Mandy’s mother.
It was not long before the paramedics emerged from the bedroom,
carrying Mandy on the stretcher. Their faces were dripping with sweat.
Tom was trotting behind them, his face transfixed in horror. He could
not help secretly swearing at Maxwell, thinking that if it were not for
his flagrant acts of adultery, none of this would be happening to the
one woman he truly admired. And where was he right now? In the
arms of a bitch!
Mandy had an oxygen mask on her face and an IV line tucked
into her arm. She was admitted to the intensive care ward, where she
remained, unconscious, for a few hours. When she finally came to, she
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felt as though she had been sleeping for months. No one noticed that
she was awake, not even the medical staff.
Her eyes darted around the room. First, she noticed her mother
sitting on a low bench beside her, face buried in her hands, sobbing
softly. She had never seen her mother cry before. She could yell and
swear and smash things in the house, but certainly not cry. It was at
that awful instant that she realised that her attempt to take her own life
was totally inconsiderate and thoughtless, especially to those people
who loved and cared about her. It only caused them hurt and sorrow.
That became a lesson learnt in heartache. No longer was she going to
allow herself to crumble under her pain. She would bury it deep in her
heart and carry it around with her, but no one would spot it on her
face. They would have to rake deeper to know it was there.
Her eyes shifted to where Tom was standing at the window, his
hands balled in the pockets of his trousers. He was staring bleakly into
nothing, and wondering if Mandy knew what would have happened to
her son had she succeeded in taking her life. Maxwell would not have
hesitated for a second to let his mistress bring him up together with her
other children. The thought of it made him sick to the stomach.
Rachel was pacing the room, her back facing Mandy’s bed. Con
demnatory thoughts were racing inside her head. She felt responsible
for what happened, continually regretting her daft decision not to sleep
on the couch in Mandy’s bedroom and watch over her. Mandy had
depended on her to protect her from harming herself, and she had
failed her dismally. But she was grateful that she was alive, and that her
parents had arrived to be with her. They would know what to do next.
She had faintly overheard Mrs Jackson saying to her husband that they
ought to take her and Danny back home with them to Cape Town so
she could recuperate under their care. Although she thought it was a
brilliant idea, deep inside she feared for her job, knowing very well that
Mandy might have to lay her off should she decide to stay permanently
in Cape Town and be closer to her parents.
With a feeble hand, Mandy tapped her mother on the shoulder,
almost startling her. She looked up and when she noticed that her
daughter had surfaced out of her unconsciousness she sprang to her
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feet and engulfed her in her arms, screaming, ‘My baby is awake! Nurse
... doctor ... Mandy is finally awake!’
The nurse did not waste time. She came running and shone a torch
into Mandy’s eyes. Her pupils constricted, reacting well to the light.
A very good sign! She paged the doctor. Within an hour, Mandy was
wheeled into the recovery ward. Her IV line was removed. For the
first time since she had been in ICU, her father came to sit at the edge
of the bed beside her, carrying Danny in his arms. Much as his wife
had urged him, he could not bear seeing his daughter on an oxygen
mask with her body almost lifeless. And now that she was awake and
stirring, he did not want to let her leave his sight. He placed Danny on
her lap. Mandy almost cried as she rocked him in her arms. Oblivious
to what had nearly happened to his mother, Danny began to play with
her hair, stroking it and ruffling it with his fingers.
Tom walked over to her and took her hand. He was still reeling
with shock at what she had done. ‘You had us scared, baby,’ he said
sadly.
‘I know, Tommy. And I’m so sorry. You guys saved my life. I’ll
forever be grateful to you.’
‘You must thank Rachel for her quick thinking,’ Tom replied,
totally humbled. ‘If she hadn’t had the good judgement to call me ...’
He was unable to complete the sentence, choking on his words and
hating to imagine what his life would have been like with Mandy not in
it. He loved her like she was his own little sister. When he felt the tears
of relief gather in his eyes, he turned abruptly so the others would not
notice, and walked out into the corridor.
But Mandy had noticed. She was deeply touched by his deep affec
tion for her. Against her will, she burst into tears. Between her sobs she
stared at Rachel, and then at her mother and father. ‘I’m sorry I had to
put you all through this.’
‘You haven’t put us through anything, sweetheart,’ her mother
answered, wrapping her arm around Mandy’s shoulder. ‘You’re the one
who’s going through a lot. And I’m so glad you’ve come back to us.’
Mrs Jackson hesitated for a second and then said, ‘Me and your
father ... we’ve decided to take you home with us, you and Danny. You
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need to get away from this place for a while. As soon as the doctor
discharges you, I’m booking your flight.’ She looked sharply at her
husband immediately afterwards as if expecting him to add something
to what she had just said. He only nodded his head in agreement, still
too distressed to speak.
Mandy could not protest. Even if she had wanted to, she had no
strength in her body. All she did was smile wearily at her mother and
allow her head rest back onto the pillows. But deep within her heart she
knew her mother was right, and so were Tom and Henry. More than
anything, she needed to get away. Her house, once warm and homely,
now held too many painful and haunting memories. And with her so
fragile and vulnerable, she was not sure she could deal head-on with
them. She needed to be around her family, to let them help her rebuild
her life from complete ruins.
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CHAPTER ELEVEN
Maxwell had a whole new routine. Each morning, on his way to work,
he had to drop little David off at school, and then pick him up in the
afternoon. He no longer had time to play golf with his friends as he
used to do, or hang around with his colleagues at a pub after their
hectic days in court. He felt trapped in his life with Kristal. When once
his life with her used to feel like heaven, now it felt like imprisonment.
He despised it.
As the days passed, he became more and more removed from
Kristal. He hated coming home to her and being around her. They ate
their meals in silence. He could not hold an intelligent conversation
with her like he used to with his wife. She was not knowledgeable
about anything, not even about trivial things that were happening in
the world around her. More and more, he found solace in his booze. It
numbed his mind to the painful reality that he was facing. But he knew
that if he carried on drinking as he was, his health would suffer.
One Friday morning, two hours after Maxwell had left for work,
Kristal’s waters broke. Thirty minutes later, the contractions started.
She was filled with fear, all alone in the house. She remembered when
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David was born. Her mother had driven over to be with her, constantly
mopping her face and stomach with a warm, moist towel as they
waited for the ambulance to arrive. It had helped to ease the pain. Her
nearness had been assuring.
She called Maxwell on his mobile phone; it was switched off.
She thought with a sinking heart that he might already be in court
and would not be able to check his messages until long after midday.
Nonetheless, she left the message for him, and immediately called
for the ambulance. Within forty minutes, she was lying in bed in the
labour ward.
All through the long hours of the morning she continued to labour.
By midday the contractions were coming within short intervals of each
other and her pain became prolonged and intensified. Her whole body
was dripping in perspiration, but she did not scream with pain. That
left the nursing staff staring at her with wonderment. It was unusual,
but they did not know that no amount of pain could compare to what
her fiancé had done to her. She was braving it all for him, determined
not to give him the satisfaction that he still had the power to hurt her.
As the pains became more pronounced, she had this strange
compulsion to push the pain down. She did, with each strong contrac
tion that came; but she was not consciously aware that she was actually
bearing down. It was not long before she felt something hard pressing
down inside her birth canal and on her perineum, like a baby’s head.
It was the baby coming out! Her heart almost stopped beating. She
yelled, calling the nurse and the doctor.
Seeing the fear in her eyes, the doctor took her hand and said in a
gentle soothing voice, ‘It’s all right. You can relax back and breathe with
your mouth closed, but when the next contraction comes, push as hard
as you can. I’ll be here to hold your hand.’ He was a fresh intern, there
to observe the experienced midwife deliver twins.
The contraction came, this one much stronger than the rest. She
pushed with all her strength, felt something slippery slide between her
thighs, and a second later heard the baby’s shrill crying.
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‘It’s a girl!’ The midwife shouted in exhilaration, unaware that

Kristal already knew the sex of her babies.
Kristal watched as the intern helped to cut the umbilical cord and
placed the baby on her chest. Her eyes softened, thinking how beautiful
her baby looked. As soon as the nurse had taken the baby away another
strong contraction came. This one shook her whole body. For a
moment she wanted to scream aloud with pain but reproached herself.
After a few more contractions, when she was beginning to fade into
exhaustion, she pushed the baby out. Later, when the midwife rubbed
her belly to remove both placentas and asked her to push lightly, she
found she had no strength to do that. As soon as the babies were taken
to the nursery to be bathed, she fell into an exhausted sleep.
She woke up hours later with the babies crying beside her bed. It
was time for their first feeds. Later, when Maxwell arrived with David
and was holding the babies in his arms, Kristal watched him with
growing resentment.
He looked across at her and asked, ‘Which one do we name after
my mother?’
She shook her head slowly. ‘Neither are going to be named after
our mothers.’ Her voice was as cold as water flowing under ice.
He looked at her disdainfully. ‘But I thought we had agreed that we
would ...’ Kristal did not allow him to finish. ‘Not anymore, Maxwell.
I have already decided on their names – Isabella and Jennifer. You can
decide which one is Isabella.’ She snuggled onto the pillows and shut
her eyes with an attitude that said she wanted him gone from her sight.
They continued to sleep in separate bedrooms, taking turns in the
middle of the night to feed the babies and change their nappies. They
could no longer hold a conversation, and drifted further apart every
day. It broke Kristal’s spirit. Each night, as she lay awake in bed, she
became more and more convinced that she had to do what she needed
to do. He did not deserve to live and to continue to break her heart.
One day, she would have no heart left at all. And who can live without
a heart?
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Three months had passed since Mandy and Danny had moved to Cape
Town. Her family home stood firmly alongside the breathtaking blocks
of beachfront apartments, with her bedroom upstairs overlooking the
sea. Every night she fell asleep to the sound of the waves washing. She
had almost forgotten how good that felt until she was home.
It was nearing Christmas, and everyone was festive, in high spirits.
The day was hot, even at eight o’ clock in the morning. Mandy was
walking barefoot on the beach, holding Danny’s hand and gently
swinging it. In the short time that she had arrived home, she had made
it a habit to walk on the beach each morning, determined not to have
her life at home be solitary. The beach was breathtakingly beautiful. It
stretched as far as the eye could see. The sound of the waves rolling in
to crash against the rocks was soothing. She relished the crisp smell of
the early morning air; it lifted her spirits and lightened her heart at the
same time. The cool breeze brushed softly against her face.
She recalled the first few days back at home, and how she slept a
lot. She had been too fragile to leave her bedroom. At each mealtime,
her mother carried a tray of food to her bedroom, but most often
returned it to the kitchen untouched. Mandy had dropped a significant
amount of weight. Her mother was astoundingly patient and nursed
her back to health, fretting over her, wanting to do everything for her.
Passively, Mandy had allowed her. Everything around her had seemed
so dark. But she remembered what her father used to say, that when
you are sitting in a dark tunnel you are in a prime position to see the
light bursting in. She held steadfast to that until one day she started to
regain her strength. Each day that passed brought her closer to healing.
Her pain began to fade away like an old photograph packed away in a
drawer. She found herself thinking less and less about Maxwell. He was
increasingly becoming a closed chapter in her life.
When her appetite slowly returned and she started to eat well, her
mother beamed with relief. She watched with contentment as Mandy
crammed the food in her mouth. She began to enjoy the food at home.
It always tasted good, especially when you have been away from home
for a long while. Tom and Henry called her almost every day, reminding
her how much they loved and missed her. Once, when she spoke to
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Sharon and Robert on the telephone, she lost all control and broke
down in tears, wishing they could all come and visit. Rachel wrote to
her frequently. Mandy was pleased to hear that she had finally met
the man of her dreams and intended to marry him. On many nights
Mandy sat at the table in her bedroom and replied to Rachel’s letters,
feeding her on how she and Danny were doing, and not forgetting to
tell her how much Danny loved the jersey she knitted him. She looked
forward to each of Rachel’s letters arriving in the post.
She was brought out of her deep thoughts by the ice-cream truck as
it drove past them across the street. Danny shouted excitedly, pulling
her hand and asking for her to buy him a cone. But Mandy rebuffed
him, saying it was too early in the morning for that. They had not been
walking for more than a mile when Mandy’s eyes picked out a group
of men jogging towards them. She continued to watch them as they
drew closer and closer. A compelling fascination took hold of her. Her
eyes widened with amazement. There was one particular man among
the group who caught her eye. He appeared somehow larger than the
men around him, enormously tall, muscular and very athletic. Mandy
was not able to describe him precisely for she had never seen any one
like him in her entire life. He appeared to have an aura about him that
sharpened his physical presence and made him stand out from the rest.
Just like his mother, Danny was watching the men with intense
interest. Suddenly, he jerked his hand from his mother’s grip and began
to run toward them. But a few yards away from them, he tripped and
fell on his face with his arms outstretched before him. The mysterious,
muscular man stopped dead, then without thinking scooped Danny
into his arms. For a long moment Mandy stood there, completely
stunned and flattered at the same time by his genuine humanity.
‘Are you hurt, young man?’ he asked in a gentle voice as he brushed
the sand from Danny’s face and tracksuit.
Danny shook his head, looking nervously at him, and then back at
his mother.
‘Do you want to run with us?’ There was a smile on his face as he
asked.
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‘Can I, mummy?’ The nervousness was instantly replaced by

exhilaration. He turned his head to glance at his mother, seeking her
permission.
Mandy stepped forward. ‘Please don’t mind him. We were just
taking a walk. Let’s not keep you from your jogging,’ she said, reaching
out to grab Danny from him. But he tightened his arms around the
man’s neck, refusing to let his mother take him. It was almost as if he
felt safe in the arms of this stranger, as though he had known the man
for a long time. Mandy could almost swear the man felt the same way
too. There was a look on his face as he constantly glanced at Danny that
Mandy could not plausibly explain.
The man gazed straight into Mandy’s eyes. ‘It’s all right. I’d love to
jog with him. Please allow him to? Just for a while?’ He was pleading
with her. His voice was as smooth as a baby’s bottom.
Mandy shifted her eyes to look at Danny. Seeing the keenness on
his face, she shrugged her shoulders, defeated. ‘Okay. But only for a
short distance.’ She pointed a finger at Danny with a smile breaking out
on her lips. ‘And don’t you trip and fall again, young man.’
She watched as they began to jog, walking slowly behind them
with her hands stuffed into the pockets of her sweater. Along the way,
the man showed Danny how to move his arms in front of his chest
athletically. As he began to master the skill, he looked over his shoulder,
grinning happily at his mother. It was not long before he began to tire
and slowed down. The man picked him up, lifted him on his shoulder
and brought him back to his mother.
Mandy took him in her arms and said to him, ‘Say thank you
to ...’ It occurred to her at that moment that she did not know the man’s
name – neither did he show any intention of introducing himself.
‘Thank you,’ Danny said, with a wide grin that revealed a missing
front tooth.
‘You’re most welcome, little boy.’ He stroked his hair lightly and
then strode away without looking at Mandy. But a few yards down the
road he turned to look over his shoulder and found that Mandy had
also turned, at the same time. Their eyes met. He waved at her. She
waved back.
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Long after the man had gone, his presence remained like a fresh
breeze in her mind. He had stirred something inside her, some strange
feelings she could not explain. Every now and then she looked over her
shoulder, hoping she would see him jogging back toward them. And
when it did not happen, she was disappointed.
When another ice-cream truck came their way, she scooped Danny
into her arms and ran toward it. Seconds later, they were walking
home with ice-cream cones in their hands. Dark storm clouds had
been gathering high up in the sky. But there was no wind. As the first
heavy raindrops began plopping on their heads, Mandy carried Danny
on her back and made a dash for the house. He weighed heavily on
her. She had never realised how big and strong her baby had grown.
When she finally put him down as she stepped onto the balcony, she
was panting for breath. Her parents were sitting in the living room
with a pot of herbal tea on the table before them. Danny ran to them
and threw himself on his grandfather’s lap. His face was glistening with
excitement.
‘Grandpa, I jogged on the beach with some really strong man,’ he
announced happily. Both grandparents exchanged surprised glances.
‘What man?’ Mr Jackson asked, looking up at Mandy.
Mandy licked her lips nervously. She had no intention of men
tioning the incident. ‘It was just some man we came across,’ she replied
evasively. ‘I’m thirsty. Is there more tea in the pot?’
‘We’ve just finished it. But there’s apple juice in the fridge,’ her
mother answered, looking at her and knowing that something had
happened at the beach that Mandy was not telling them. She waited
until Mandy had disappeared into the kitchen, then turned to her
husband. ‘I’d say she looks quite strange.’
‘Women are always full of surprises. I have a feeling we’re going to
be hearing a lot about this mystery man,’ he replied as he leant further
back in his seat and gulped the last of his tea.
That night Mandy went to bed early. She needed to be alone with
her thoughts. For a long while she lay awake in the dark. The mystery
man on the beach was occupying all her thoughts. She wished she
had asked for his name. For the fiftieth time she racked her head,
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wondering who he might be, thinking perhaps he was a tourist in the

city. Hours later, when she still could not sleep, she put on her robe and
slippers and walked down to the kitchen to get a warm mug of milk
and a cookie. Surprisingly, she found her mother sitting at the kitchen
table, knitting her husband’s jersey. She pulled a chair across from her.
‘I couldn’t sleep and thought I’d get a glass of warm milk,’ Mandy
said.
‘Need a cup of tea?’ her mother asked, looking at her over the rim
of her glasses.
‘That would be nice, mother.’ She sat quietly and watched her
mother as she boiled the water and laid the tray. Minutes later, they
were sipping tea and munching mouth-watering cookies.
‘Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you? You know you can
talk to me about anything, don’t you baby?’ Her mother finished her
tea and poured another cup for each of them.
Mandy was reluctant. She had never before taken her mother into
confidence about someone she fancied. ‘I know how absurd this is
going to sound, mother, but do you think it’s too early for me to fall in
love, after everything that’s happened?’
Mrs Jackson was not prepared for that kind of question. It had
caught her completely off-guard. She thought long and hard. When
finally she spoke, she folded her arms over her chest and leaned back
on her chair, gazing straight into Mandy’s eyes. ‘There’s no single
formula to love, baby. Sometimes when love comes flooding out of
you, it becomes virtually impossible to repress it. It pronounces itself
like a baby wanting to crown before its time.’
Mandy blushed. For a long while they sipped their tea in silence.
Then her mother thrust out the big question. ‘Have you met someone?
Is it the man Danny mentioned from the beach?’
‘I hate to admit this, but he’s the one, mother.’ Seeing the
astonishment spring onto her mother’s face, she added quickly, ‘We
didn’t really say anything to each other. I don’t even know his name. He
probably doesn’t even have a clue about how I feel towards him.’
‘But you have strong feelings for him.’
She nodded timidly. ‘I think I’ve fallen in love with him. I’ve
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always read about people falling in love at first sight and thought it
was just fantasy. It just happened to me this morning. And it’s real.
I’m so scared, mother. There’s something about this man. It’s not just
his extraordinary physique I’m attracted to. He has this innate dignity
about him, and this look on his face that’s so kind and caring. I find
it difficult to stop thinking about him.’ Even as she was talking about
him, she felt a flood of affection sweep over her. She could not explain
what was happening to her, for she had never experienced anything
like it before.
‘Oh my baby, what are you going to do?’
‘I don’t know, mother. I keep wondering if I’ll ever get to see him
again. But even if I don’t, I’ll be glad of one thing: that I can love again.
Already, as I keep thinking of him, it makes me feel good inside that
I’m a normal woman with normal feelings. The only thing I’m not sure
of is whether any man out there will find me desirable.’
Mrs Jackson leaned over the table and took her hand. ‘Of course
you’re desirable, and very pretty too. There’s a man waiting for you
out there. All you need is to be open-minded and to conserve your
confidence. When you least expect it, he’ll come and sweep you off
your feet. And when that happens, you’ll look back and wonder what
you ever saw in that son-of-a-bitch called Maxwell!’
‘Mother!’
‘Well, if you expect me to apologise for the way I feel about him,
you won’t get an apology from me. I knew from the very first day I met
him that he was nothing but trouble.’
‘And why didn’t you tell me that, mother?’
‘You were so wrapped up in him you wouldn’t have believed me,
would you?’
The next morning, after breakfast, Mandy was in her tracksuit and
jogging on the beach. This time she did not take Danny with her, leaving
him behind to enjoy his peaceful sleep. Although she hated to admit
it, she was hoping against hope that she’d come across the mystery
man again. A little way down the beach, something like a hunch, some
strong gut feeling, made her turn and look over her shoulder. Her heart
gave a little jolt. The mystery man was behind her. Not sure what to
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do, she kept her eyes fixed ahead on the beach and continued to run,
feeling a rush of blood racing to her face.
Within seconds she felt him beside her. She could even hear his
heavy breathing from his half-open mouth. From the corner of her eye
she could make out his face, staring closely at her. Her heart began to
pound as if she had narrowly avoided being run over. She searched for
a soul-cleansing thought to help her clear her mind, but she could not
find one. And then her control crumbled. She turned her head to look
at him. Their eyes locked. His face broke into a tiny smile, slowly pulling
the lines of laughter up at the corners of his eyes. He was extraordinarily
good-looking when he smiled like that. A sudden lameness crept into
her legs. For a second she thought she was going lose her balance and
plop down onto the ground, but she fought to maintain her balance,
biting her bottom lip and shrugging her shoulders as she did that.
‘Hello.’ She thought his voice was sexy.
‘Hello.’
A clumsy silence followed as a group of runners came up behind
them. The man waited until they had run past. ‘I was hoping I’d see
you again.’ His eyes did not leave her face. He almost tripped over an
empty water bottle. He made a point of looking where he was running.
She blushed; that was exactly what she too had been praying for all
through the night. But she could not let him know that, even though she
ached to. A woman never revealed her innermost feelings to a man she
barely knew. When she eventually answered, she deliberately avoided
his straight-to-the point statement. ‘I like jogging in the morning. This
fresh breeze is breathtaking.’
A few yards later, he stopped in his tracks and flung his right hand
to his eye. Mandy stopped, too. Her intuition told her something was
wrong. ‘Is there a problem?’ she asked.
‘There’s something in my eye.’ He blinked a few times, and a tear
rolled out.
Mandy stepped closer and put her hand on his forehead. ‘Don’t rub
it. Let me have a look.’ She sounded so much like a nurse or a doctor.
And when a smile appeared on the man’s face again, she wondered
if she’d said something funny. There was a wooden bench across
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from where they were standing. She beckoned him to sit, and began
examining his eye.
‘Do you see anything?’
‘It’s a grain of sand. Keep it open and don’t blink. I’ll flush it out
with the water from my bottle.’ She let the water run continuously as
she had seen it done by first-aiders at her company.
‘How does it feel now?’ she asked.
He blinked; when he could not feel anything, he gave her a nod of
gratitude. ‘You seem to have washed it out.’ He wiped his dripping face,
but showed no intention of getting up. He stared up at Mandy with a
mischievous grin.
‘All right, mister, I really need to get back to my run. Are you
coming or not?’
He rose slowly to his feet, and astounded her by taking her hand.
‘There’s a coffee shop across the street, over there where that big truck
is parked. Let’s go over and grab some coffee.’
Mandy could not believe what she’d just heard. She stood there,
completely frozen, hoping she was not dreaming.
‘I ... I don’t know what to say.’
‘Then just say yes.’
Without waiting for her answer, he pulled her arm gently and
walked her up the steep incline, taking long strides with his long legs.
She fell into step with him, in a trance, her gait sluggish and sloppy.
There was some magnetic force about him that she found impossible
to resist.
From a distance, they heard the sound of an approaching ambu
lance, and both wondered if there was an accident somewhere down
the street. They could not see anything until they reached the top of
the incline. A group of people had gathered around, some peeping
through the open doors and windows of the stores.
The ambulance rushed past them in a blur and screeched to a
stop at the side of the road. The doors flung open and the paramedics
jumped out with a stretcher and emergency boxes in their hands.
The man leaped forward, pulling Mandy along with him. ‘I have to
give them a hand,’ he said as they ran up the road. Mandy wondered if
191
he was a paramedic too, but there was no time to ask. As they reached
the accident scene, the man pushed his way through the crowd, with
his hand still gripping Mandy’s. It seemed as if he was afraid to let go
of her, lest she vanished into thin air and he would never see her again.
At the sight of a man lying on the ground with blood gushing out of his
leg, Mandy covered her mouth and let out a soft gasp. She had never
in her life seen so much blood coming out of a person. He’d been run
over by a car; his leg was crushed.
The man let go of Mandy’s hand and knelt down beside the
casualty. He shouted as he gave instructions to the paramedics. ‘Give
me latex gloves and the infusion set. And you,’ he pointed to the
other paramedic, ‘arrest the bleeding on his leg and cover him with
a dressing.’ The men worked together; within seconds, the IV was
running on the injured man’s arm, his leg supported by a wooden
splint. The colour was slowly returning to his face. As he was lifted into
the back of the ambulance, Mandy’s companion took off the gloves
and sprayed his hands with an antiseptic solution that he found after
rummaging inside the emergency bag. The paramedics were grateful
for his assistance, nodding their heads as a show of gratitude before
speeding up the road in the direction of the hospital.
Mandy had a strange feeling that they knew him well, and that he
knew them too. She wondered if he might be an off-duty colleague,
who happened to be at the right place and at the right time. They
waited until the ambulance had disappeared before they made their
way to the coffee shop in silence. She was in awe of him, thinking: I
have fallen in love with a paramedic. She suppressed the urge to hook
her arm around his.
At the coffee shop entrance, he pulled open the door, let her go
in first, then came in behind her. They were shown to a table at the
window overlooking the busy street. The man pulled back the chair for
her before he walked round the table to take his seat. Mandy sat with
her hands underneath the table, between her legs. They were shaking
like leaves on a cool, breezy day. Everything had happened so fast. All
she wished for was for someone to pinch her, just so she knew she was
not dreaming. The waiter came and took their order, and then left.
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‘The coffee here is mouth-watering. Have you ever tasted it?’ the
man asked, looking across at her.
Mandy was staring at him and wondering if he knew how good-
looking he really was. She only managed to shake her head, unable
to get the words out of her mouth. The coffee could have been great
or terrible, she could not care less. Nothing fascinated her except the
man who was sitting across from her. There was so much she wanted
to know about him.
Her eyes fell on his strong hands. She was so taken with them that
she found herself staring at them every few seconds, secretly loving
them. All she knew was that she wanted to be held by them more than
she had ever wanted anything in her life. She imagined them moving
down her naked body, gently stroking her, his full lips on hers, and his
muscular body on top of her, and inside her. She wondered secretly if
his maleness was as large as his body ... a thousand crackers exploded
inside her, and soon she felt as if her whole body was ablaze.
When the waiter arrived with their order and he shifted his eyes
away from her, she breathed a massive sigh of relief. He was causing
her to start losing control. She lifted the cup to her mouth, relieved that
her hands were not trembling anymore. For a while they drank their
coffee in silence.
‘Are you always this quiet?’ the man asked, studying her very
closely.
She forced a smile. ‘Only when I find myself in a restaurant with
a total stranger,’ she replied nervously. His eyes were piercing her. He
was unnerving her.
He rubbed a hand over his hair and chuckled. ‘Well, all that can
easily change, if you allow me to bring you back here tomorrow, and
the day after tomorrow.’
That caused her to blush – they didn’t even know each other’s
names. As though able to read her mind, he stretched out his hand
and introduced himself. ‘By the way, my name is Richard. Richard
Jameson.’
‘I’m Mandy Richardson.’
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‘That’s a pretty name for a pretty woman like you. Do you happen
to live here?’
She bit her bottom lip to keep it from trembling. ‘This is my home
town. I’ve been living in Johannesburg for just over ten years, but have
recently come back home with my son to live with my parents. Until,
of course, we find our own place. And what about you, are you from
here?’
‘I’m originally from Port Elizabeth, but have been living here for
the last six years.’
The caffeine in the coffee was beginning to relax her. She met his
gaze calmly and asked the question that had been burning at the tip of
her tongue. ‘What kind of job do you do here, Richard?’
He regarded her for a long moment as if hesitant to talk about
himself. ‘I’m a cardiac surgeon and cardiologist.’
Her hand covered her mouth and she let out a soft laughter.
Richard stared back at her with eyes constricting and forehead
furrowed. ‘What’s so funny about that, Mandy?’
Mandy leaned forward and whispered, ‘I thought you were a
paramedic.’
Once again, he chuckled. She loved the way he rubbed a hand over
his hair when he laughed. Before long they were blowing their noses.
He took her hand with lines of laughter creased around his eyes. ‘And
come to think of it, ever since I was a young boy I’ve always wanted to
be a paramedic. I was intrigued by the roaring sound of ambulances
and how the motorists gave them the right of way, even at traffic lights.’
‘And what stopped you from becoming one?’ she asked, blowing
her nose again.
‘My father died of a heart attack when I was fifteen. On that day,
I vowed to myself that I’d go to medical school and be a cardiologist,
and save people’s lives.’ Seeing the fascinated look on her face, he added
quickly, ‘But it didn’t come on a silver platter. I had to wait on tables in
the evenings and right through the weekends, sometimes even wash
cars – anything I could do to get money in my pocket.’ He stopped
abruptly as if considering something; then, slowly, he continued. ‘My
mother held down two jobs to support us. She went for years without
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the things she yearned for just to make sure we got the education we
needed.’
His voice softened as he mentioned his mother. Mandy could hear
that he had nothing but affection and admiration for her. Her heart
swelled with love for him.
‘Do you have any siblings, Richard?’ she asked.
He nodded his head. ‘Only one sister. She’s five years my senior and
lectures at the university, in the faculty of law.’ Suddenly he realised he
had been talking non-stop. He took her hand and said, ‘You know half
the things about me. It’s not fair. Tell me about yourself.’
His eyes remained fixed on her as though he had never seen anyone
like her before. Mandy thought she had seen a glitter of affection –
of interest – in his eyes, which seemed to disappear when she locked
her eyes with his. Or had it been her imagination? She drank the last
of her coffee and told him about her job, Danny and her parents, but
deliberately avoided making any mention of Maxwell.
He listened without interrupting. When she had finished, he asked,
‘Is your husband here with you?’ He was looking down at the wedding
ring on her finger.
She did not answer straight away. The question had caught her
completely by surprise. She found herself swearing under her breath
and thinking, why am I still wearing Maxwell’s ring? But it was too late
to take it off. He had seen it. Nervously, she ran her fingers through her
hair. ‘I don’t have a husband anymore,’ she answered clumsily.
He looked confused.
‘We’re estranged ... actually ... divorcing.’
‘Is that the reason you’ve come back home?’
She nodded her head.
He breathed an enormous sigh of relief and reclined in his chair.
There was renewed hope in his eyes. He had fallen in love with her. His
love for her ran much deeper than she could imagine. She had stirred
something inside him, a chord that no one had ever touched.
They lingered over their coffee. Neither appeared in a hurry to
leave the restaurant. They chatted about everything – her job, his
job, medicine, sports, movies, the world around them. There was an
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electricity building up between them. Much as they both tried to ignore

it, it was there, and kept intensifying until they could almost touch it.
Although she did not show it, inwardly she was hopeful, more than
ever, that she would be seeing more of him. She knew very well the
effect he had on her. And she liked it. It excited her, and made her feel
like a high-school girl falling in love for the first time.
Later, as he walked her to her house, she caught him looking at
her in a certain way, eyes narrowed and forehead furrowed, and she
wondered what he was thinking about. In the middle of the road he
stopped abruptly and took both her hands into his.
‘Mandy, would it be asking too much of you and your little boy to
have dinner with me at my house tomorrow? There’s someone I want
both of you to meet.’
Her face fell. A thousand questions burned the tip of her tongue.
Who is that person he wants us to meet? Does he have a wife he wants
to introduce to us? Is it possible that I’ve mistaken his friendship for
love? Her heart sank. She was tempted to ask if he was married, but
immediately allowed the temptation to pass. What if he said he was a
family man? Would she be able to handle it without her heart breaking?
Instead, she asked, ‘What time do you need us to be there?’ Her voice
had turned dull.
‘Seven o’ clock.’ He gave her clear directions to the house.
They had not said a proper goodbye to each other when the rain
began plopping down. It was the wet season. He kissed the back of
her hand and ran to where he had parked his car. For a while Mandy
remained standing where he had left her, watching him, when another
thought occurred to her. What if he wanted me to meet his mother?
Her heart quickened. Why didn’t I think of that? Silly! She ran up the
driveway feeling like she was riding on a cloud. That night, for the
first time since she arrived home from Johannesburg, she slept right
through the night.
The next evening at six o’ clock she had bathed and washed her
hair, and was wondering what to wear. She had not mentioned to
her mother the real reason Richard had invited her and Danny to his
house. If ever some disappointment arose out of it and they were met
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by his wife at the door, she intended to keep it a secret. She might even
make Danny swear not to tell a soul. When she could not make up her
mind about what to wear, she asked her mother to help her out. She
pulled out from the wardrobe a tight-fitting black evening dress cut a
few inches below the knees. ‘This will accentuate your good looks,’ her
mother said as she placed it neatly on her bed.
Before she left the bedroom, she studied herself in the mirror,
and smirked in the satisfaction that she looked splendid. Danny was
wearing black trousers with a white shirt and a bowtie tight around
his neck, looking every inch as stunning as his mother. They drove in
silence until they reached the house. It was an enormous house, solid
and perched high up in a mountainous area. Mandy, who had only seen
such houses from a distance, was overcome by its splendour. These
were the homes for the cream of the crop only, the rich and famous
of the mother city. Not once did she imagine she would one day be
invited to dine in one of them.
A cheerful middle-aged woman met them at the door. ‘Dr Jameson
is waiting for you, please follow me.’ She took their coats and hung
them behind the door.
There was such stillness in the house that it felt as if nobody
lived there. Their footsteps echoed loudly in the hallway. The woman
ushered them into a large and expensively furnished living room,
where Richard was sitting close to a blazing fire. Across from him sat
a little boy of Danny’s age. At the sight of them, he rose to his feet and
walked across to meet them, smiling heartily at each of them. The little
boy came behind him, clinging onto Richard’s trousers.
Richard looked Mandy up and down. ‘I must say you look quite
elegant, and very beautiful.’ His eyes then shifted to Danny. ‘And you
look splendid, just like your mummy.’ Danny looked away, feeling a bit
shy. No one had ever told him he looked splendid like his mother. He
thought that was a compliment reserved for girls.
‘Thank you, Richard,’ Mandy replied. ‘You don’t look too bad
yourself.’ At that he laughed. He had an incredible sense of humour.
Richard shifted his eyes back at Danny again. ‘Thank you so much
for accompanying your mummy. It means a lot to me.’ He was genuine
197
as he said this. Once again Danny looked away, this time hiding his
face behind his mother. But his eyes glittered. In an odd way he was
happy to see Richard again.
Mandy had her eyes fixed on the little boy standing next to Richard.
Her heart started to beat wildly. She imagined his mother would appear
at any second to take her position next to her husband, to welcome
them into their home.
As if reading her thoughts, Richard took the little boy’s hand and
said, ‘Mandy, Danny, I want you to meet my son. His name is George.
He’s just four and a half and goes to pre-school.’
Mandy bent over and shook his hand. ‘How are you, George?’ He
grinned, and without uttering a word, walked over to where Danny
was standing. For a while he stood staring at Danny, then took his
hand.
‘Can I take him to my room to play TV games, daddy?’ His voice
sounded just like his father’s, hoarse and strong.
Richard looked down at him, smiling as he shook his head. ‘Not
until you’ve both had your dinner and finished it.’
‘But daddy ...’ George was adamant.
‘Please, son, behave ... just this one time. We have visitors.’ But his
voice had softened as he spoke to him, the same way it had softened
when he spoke about his mother the previous day at the coffee shop. It
was evident to Mandy that he was an incredible father. You can tell that
in a person’s voice.
Richard took Mandy’s hand while looking down at Danny. ‘You
must all be famished. Dinner is ready. Please follow me.’ He led them
through the hallway to the dining room.
Curiosity overtook Mandy. When she could not contain herself
any longer she took Richard aside and asked, ‘Your son ... was he the
only one you wanted us to meet?’
He gave her a puzzled look. ‘Of course, who else were you thinking
of?’
She grabbed his arm, rose up onto her toes and whispered in his
ear so the boys would not overhear her. ‘I thought it was your wife you
actually wanted us to meet.’
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He hunched his shoulders forward and laughed aloud. ‘I hope it

didn’t cause you any insomnia,’ he said, wrapping his arm lovingly
around her thin waist and kissing her forehead.
She found herself laughing, too. ‘Just a little, I guess.’
Suddenly the tension she had felt when they first arrived, dissolved.
She felt her shoulders relax and looked forward to a great evening with
him. The dinner table was large and creatively set, leaving Mandy
open-mouthed. She thought it might accommodate thirty people
seated. Before she took her seat next to Richard, she walked closer
to the window to have a good look at the curtains, thinking secretly,
the material alone must have cost a fortune. They dropped the whole
length from the ceiling to the floor.
The maid arrived and began to serve them. The food was delicious
but Mandy was too excited to pay attention to it. There was so much
she loved about him, and so much she still wanted to know about him.
Later, after the dishes were cleared from the table and George had
whisked Danny to his room, Richard and Mandy carried their drinks
to the balcony upstairs. The banister rail was made of a rare wood,
so smooth and shiny she could almost see her face on it. The sight
from the balcony was breathtaking. The entire city appeared before her
eyes. For a second, she shut her eyes and breathed in the cold, crispy
mountain air. It was chilly. Richard had brought a thin blanket for her.
She sat on a bench and beckoned him to sit next to her, immediately
covering his shoulders with the blanket. They were sitting so close
together that their hips were almost touching. She could feel his warm
breath on her face each time he tilted his head toward her as he spoke.
‘I’m sure you’re wondering where George’s mother is,’ he said,
handing her a glass of wine.
‘I was about to ask,’ Mandy replied.
He hesitated, then opened his heart.
‘My wife passed away shortly after George was born – twelve hours
after giving birth to him, to be exact. It was a difficult delivery she had.
She fell asleep afterwards, and I left her bedside for a few minutes to
grab a cup of coffee from the hospital cafeteria. No one noticed she
was bleeding profusely until it was too late. When I came back there
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were screens all around her bed. I knew that something was terribly
wrong. They wouldn’t let me inside the screens but I forced my way
through. She was my wife and if something was seriously wrong with
her I needed to know.’ His voice cracked with emotion as he spoke, but
the comforting look in Mandy’s eyes urged him to continue. ‘We did all
we could to save her. She was pronounced dead before they put up the
first unit of blood.’ He turned his head and looked deep into Mandy’s
eyes. ‘I’m a very good doctor, Mandy, one of the best in the country,
but I couldn’t even save my own wife. I watched helplessly as her life
ebbed away from her. That’s what kills me most.’ There was so much
pain in his voice. And when tears threatened to collect in his eyes, he
turned away.
Mandy’s heart bled for him. She could do no more than wrap her
arms lovingly around him. ‘I’m so sorry this had to happen to both of
you, Richard. If only there was something, anything at all, I could do
to take away your pain.’
He looked sadly at her. ‘Just love me, Mandy. That’s all I need from
you.’ He drew her to him and allowed her head to rest on his chest.
Both his arms were wrapped around her. Mandy could feel the love
flowing out of him and radiating to her. For a long while they remained
sitting in that position, looking down at the glittering lights of the city
below. No words were necessary. Mandy knew at that very instant that
she had not only fallen in love, but deeply in love – so deeply it ached.
No one had ever affected her the way he did.
After what seemed like half the night, he pulled away from her so
he could look at her face. ‘If you don’t mind my asking, why are you
and your husband divorcing, Mandy?’
She could not say that she had not been expecting the question.
But now that he had finally broached it, it left her trembling a bit. But
she was determined not to keep any secrets from him. If they were to
have a good relationship they needed to come clean with each other,
from the very beginning. ‘He cheated on me. I found out about the
affair when his mistress was pregnant with his twins, and there was
already a four-year-old-boy in the picture.’
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He drew her much closer to him. ‘It must have been dreadful for
you, finding out like that.’
She nodded. ‘What was more dreadful was the publicity it attracted
in the media. Before we knew it, it was all over the newspaper headlines.
I couldn’t go anywhere without having people look at me and talk
about us. Surely you must have read about it, four months ago – the
article about the legal giant?’
His eyes bulged with amazement. He stared at her as if he was
seeing her for the first time. ‘Richardson? Are you saying you’re
Maxwell Richardson’s wife?’
‘Estranged wife,’ she corrected him. ‘So you do know him?’
He shook his head fiercely. ‘Not in person. But I followed the story
in the newspapers. I remember that it dragged on for days on end.’ He
cupped her face in his hands. ‘The man must be a fool not to realise
what he had with you. I’d give anything to have you as my wife and
cherish you for the rest of my life.’
So moved was she by his warm words that she snuggled under his
shoulder. ‘Oh, Richard, that’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to
me.’ Her voice quivered. She was on the brink of tears.
They did not speak for a while. But she was determined not to leave
anything out. She related the experience when she had attempted to
take her own life, and her night of the drinking spree before that. As
she spoke, shades of sadness lined her eyes.
‘I read about the attempted suicide, too. It seemed the reporters
didn’t want to leave you alone.’
She was completely taken aback by that. ‘Are you saying there were
reports about that in the papers?’
He nodded his head. Seeing the shock on her face, it dawned in
him that no one had told her about it. And he thought he knew why. ‘It
was at the time you were admitted to hospital. I guess your friends and
family kept it from you because they wanted to protect you. You were
too vulnerable at the time. It would have weakened you even more.’
She was quiet for a long moment, gazing up at the starry sky. And
then she glanced at him and said, ‘I guess you’re right, Richard. It was a
good thing they didn’t tell me. I probably would have relapsed.’
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‘As they always say, what the mind doesn’t know, the heart doesn’t
grieve about.’
‘That’s the truth.’
‘Are you still in love with him, Mandy?’ he asked gently, sensing her
sudden sadness.
She shook her head to reassure him, shifting to gaze into his eyes.
‘Over the last few months, I learnt to fall out of love with him. It wasn’t
easy, but I did it. With each day that passed I became more removed
from him, and found myself thinking less and less about him. Right
now I can honestly say I care for him only as a friend and a father to
my son.’
He knew instinctively that it was a sincere answer, one that came
from an honourable woman. He knew without doubt that there was
hope for him. He had just met the woman he loved and was dreading
the thought of losing her again. When he thought of his mother a tiny
smile lined his lips. Lately she had been nudging him to come out of
solitary and to start dating again, saying that he had been celibate for
too long. And she was right. Since the death of his wife, romance had
never been at the top of his priority list. But all that seemed to change
when he met Mandy. All of a sudden he found himself lying in bed at
night and planning his future, and Mandy was part of it. He had fallen
madly in love with her. No one had ever entered his private world the
way she had.
As he continued to look at her, he became overwhelmed by
affection for her. He lifted her chin and started kissing her; long moist
kisses, drenched in a slow moving river with nothing to hold on to, to
prevent her from drowning. She had never been kissed like that before.
When they finally pulled apart, he looked deep into her eyes and said,
‘I love you so much, Mandy. From the first time I laid my eyes on you I
knew you were the one. It feels as though I loved you before I even met
you. I just hope you learn to love me too, over time.’
Her eyes sparkled as she stared back at him. ‘I don’t have to learn
to love you, Richard. I already do, more than you can ever imagine.’
He kissed her again. ‘Thank you, darling.’
When the time arrived for her and Danny to leave, he did not want
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to let her go. His fear was that she’d disappear, and that he might never
get to see her again. ‘I wish you didn’t have to leave, but could stay here
with me so I could wake up next to you in the morning,’ he said.
‘That time will come, Richard, and very soon.’
He walked her to the car, carrying Danny in his arms. He was fast
asleep. Richard fastened him into his car seat and took Mandy in his
arms. ‘Thank you for making my night so memorable. Will I see you
again?’
She was hoping he would ask. She nodded her head and kissed him
goodnight.
He watched her as she reversed out of the gate, waving. And then
he walked slowly back into the house with hands stuffed in his pockets.
He felt very lonely; he stayed awake for a long time. There was an odd
feeling inside him that he could not explain. It was as if he had known
her before, or seen her before, in another life and at another time.
Perhaps re-embodiment was the best word to explain it. For the first
time since the death of his wife, he could visualise himself standing
before a crowded church, holding both her hands in his and saying his
vows all over again.
Mandy could not sleep either. She was so overwhelmed with passion
that she was bubbling. She lay staring in the dark and reminiscing
about the events of the evening, while trying to remember if the kisses
had been real. She rubbed a trembling finger over her lips. The warm
sensation still lingered on them minutes after he had kissed her, like
the crimson tinge left on the clouds in the western horizon after the
summer rains, long after the sun has set.
Everything had happened so fast. It was as if she was watching an
action-packed movie. She could almost visualise his eyes as he had
looked at her. They promised her that he was going to love her as a
woman needed to be loved, and treat her as a woman needed to be
treated. When she finally fell asleep, there was a smile on her lips, and
when she woke up the next morning, the smile was still there.
Richard called her just as she was clearing the breakfast table.
‘Do you have any plans for today, darling?’ he asked.
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‘Not that I can remember,’ she answered, sounding cheerful and

carefree. ‘What about you, love?’
‘Not that I can remember,’ he repeated after her, like a parrot,
smiling on the telephone.
Suddenly she was in the mood to do something crazy. ‘Let’s go
fishing.’
There was laughter at the other end of the line. ‘Have you done it
before?’ he asked.
‘No.’
‘The last time I went fishing was when I was twelve, with my father.
If we don’t catch any fish, you shouldn’t blame it on me.’
‘All that matters is that we would be together. I miss you already,
love.’
‘I miss you too, darling. Will pick you up in an hour.’
She was humming a song as she finished clearing the table,
effervescing with happiness. It was complete, absolute.
An hour later, when Richard pulled up at her gate in his black
Mercedes convertible, Mandy wondered if she should invite him in to
meet her parents, but decided against it. Her sixth sense told her it was
still too early in the relationship.
Her parents were watching Richard through an open curtain.
There were joyful smiles on their faces. All they wanted was for their
daughter to be happy again. He seemed to them quite dignified and
honourable. They could not wait to meet him in person, when both of
them were ready.
Mandy was carrying a picnic basket as she walked to the car. Her
mother had urged her to prepare it. And it came in quite handy. By
lunchtime they were famished and gobbled at the food. When at last
Mandy caught a fish, she was bubbling like a teenage girl. It was not
until late in the afternoon that they slowly made their way to where his
car was parked. Richard had his arm around her.
The wet season was not going away anytime soon. They had not
walked more than a few yards when it started to rain. Richard wanted
them to run and take cover in the car, but Mandy refused. She wanted
the rain to pour over her and cleanse her of all the horrible things
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that had happened to her. She looked up at the sky, arms outstretched
and eyes tightly shut, as she allowed the rain to splash over her face.
Secretly she muttered to herself, ‘At long last I’m free of the sorrow and
pain.’ It felt good afterwards, as if she had just had a spiritual cleansing
ceremony.
Their clothes were soaked as they ran alongside each other, holding
hands. Suddenly Richard scooped her in his strong arms and whispered
to her, ‘Mandy, you’ve been through so much and I don’t want you to
hurt anymore. I love you. I can’t get you out of my mind. I carry you
in my spirit and pray for you more than I pray for myself. I don’t ever
want to be separated from you. Promise me you’ll never leave me.’
Her eyes searched his. ‘Nothing will ever separate me from you,
Richard. I love you more than I love myself.’
They kissed as the rain continued to wash over them, now turning
into small balls of hail as the late afternoon temperature dropped. The
hail was thick on the pavement as they approached the car. He put her
down and scooped a handful of it up in his hand, moulding it into a
small ball before throwing it gently at her face. She did the same to
him, screaming with laughter. She was happier than she had ever been
in her life. And she did not feel married at all, much less the wife of an
adulterer!
In the days and weeks that followed, Richard dined with her in
exclusive restaurants and took her to all the places she had never visited
before. It was as if she was seeing the world for the first time. She could
not remember the last time she was so happy and so madly in love. She
had been so busy being pissed off with Maxwell that there had never
been room in her life for anything else. All she ever had room for was
her anger and bitterness. And all she ever cared about was how much
he was hurting her and humiliating her. Now she realised she had
wasted all that time on feelings that had got her nowhere, and that had
nearly cost her life. For the first time in her life, she was determined to
live her life as it was meant to be lived.
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CHAPTER TWELVE
For days on end, a white Nissan jalopy had been driving past Maxwell
and Kristal’s house. The man behind the wheel wore a moustache and
dark glasses that almost hid his face. On his head he wore a worn-
out khaki hat. He circled the street, studying the house and making a
mental note of its layout.
On the day that the twins celebrated their fourth month, the same
car drove into the thick bushes a few yards from the house. It was well
hidden in the bushes and from prying eyes. The man waited until it
was dark before he started walking to the house with a white toolbox
in his hand. When he reached the house, he climbed up the small gate
adjacent to the garages and sneaked into the backyard.
From the kitchen window, Matthew watched Maxwell and Kristal
as they ate their dinner. Little David was not with them. He presumed
David might have already been put to bed. Maxwell and Kristal seemed
like two strangers sharing the same house. Later, Maxwell left the
kitchen while the sulky-looking Kristal remained at the table. Mathew
rounded the house to see which room Maxwell had gone to. It was the
second bedroom from the kitchen. He made a mental note of that and
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returned to the kitchen window, wondering if they shared the same

room. He hoped not, because he was not intending for Kristal to know
he had been in the house to carry out his mission.
He continued to watch Kristal. He could see how troubled she
looked. She sat leaning over the table with both hands supporting her
chin. There was a faraway look on her face. It was as if her mind was
floating far away from her body. She remained sitting there for what
seemed like hours when suddenly she stumbled to her feet, switched
off the light and walked out of the kitchen. There was only one light
shining in the whole house, except for the dim lights in the passage and
the porch where he was standing. He guessed the light in the passage
was left on for when Kristal had to check on the babies in the middle
of the night.
He tiptoed around the house until he was squatting and peeping
through Kristal’s window. Surprisingly, her curtains were made of a
very light material. He could almost clearly see her as she began to
undress. He licked his cracked lips as he watched her naked body,
thinking he had never seen such a beautiful body his entire life. There
was no flabbiness or stretch marks that suggested she had just given
birth to the twins. Even her breasts were full and standing up like ripe
melons. Without warning, his maleness stood erect. A new thought
came over him. Perhaps he could blackmail her into sleeping with him,
just once, after they had shared the money. A wicked smile twitched on
his mouth. He could almost imagine her on top of him, doing it to him
like she had been doing it to all the men she had entertained in her life.
With Maxwell no longer sleeping with her, he imagined she must be
hungry for it, yearning for someone to creep into her bed and screw
her while she groaned and cried for more. He had to be that person.
She owed him that. Suddenly he ached for her like he had never ached
for any woman.
It was not long before she switched off the light. He waited for a
few more minutes, until he was sure that she was fast asleep, before
he walked back to the kitchen door. He opened his toolbox, put on
his gloves and set to work on the door, grateful that she had left the
veranda light on, otherwise he would have had to use the light from
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the torch. It was not long before the door creaked open and he stepped
stealthily inside.
When he reached the door of Maxwell’s bedroom he paused to peek.
He had left it half open. In the light of the bright street lamp, he could
clearly see Maxwell in bed. His back was facing the door. There was
no doubt that he was fast asleep. He could hear his soft snoring from
where he was standing. He picked up his steps until he was standing
over him, watching his sleeping form. In repose he looked so innocent.
What a sad way for a man of his calibre to go, he thought to himself.
He hated killing a man in his sleep. It was spineless and cowardly. If it
was not for Kristal, he would have made him suffer before he finally
pulled the trigger.
Droplets of perspiration were forming on his forehead. His hands
were trembling a little. He might be a ruthless and cold-blooded killer,
but somewhere deep within his heart he had some conscience. But
as the pitiful vivid image of his sick mother appeared before his eyes,
reminding him of the hospital bills that needed to be paid, he pulled
himself together and brought out a gun. There was no time to waste.
Soon, the twins might start crying, causing to Kristal to come running
down the passage. He could not risk her seeing him. The sooner he was
out of the house, the better for him.
He pointed his gun with its silencer at Maxwell’s head, shut his
eyes, and pulled the trigger. The gun’s silent, strong vibration rattled
his hands. He saw Maxwell’s head leap up and then flop back onto the
pillow. He reached out and turned Maxwell’s head to face him. The
eyes stared up, unblinking.
He waited for a second and pulled the trigger again. He had to be
certain that Maxwell was gone, that he did not wake up in hospital.
He watched with nausea rising up his throat as the blood gushed out,
mixed with some white stuff. He imagined that was Maxwell’s brain.
For a long while, he watched as the breath left Maxwell’s body,
wondering which gate he was about to enter – heaven or hell. He put
his stake on the latter. There was no place for cheating men in heaven.
He felt sorry for Maxwell, and for what lay ahead for him.
Before he left the room he looked around nervously. There was a
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laptop on top of the dressing table. Next to it was Maxwell’s gold watch.
For a spilt second he was tempted to take them both and sell them
to a pawn shop. After all, they were of no use to Maxwell anymore.
He could get a good price for them and settle his mother’s hospital
bills. There might even be a few rands left to pay for a night of steamy
sex with the club strippers, perhaps even enough for a threesome. The
thought of it excited him. He could feel a gush of hot blood flowing
down to his groin. His maleness stood erect in his trousers. With his
heart beating fast, he took a few quick steps toward the dressing table
and then abruptly stopped. If he ever got caught possessing them,
or if the shop owner spilled on him under pressure from the police,
Maxwell’s murder could easily be traced back to him. He could not risk
that. He had spent half of his life incarcerated. Life in prison was utter
hell. He had no intention of going back there. Reluctantly, he stepped
out of the room and out of the house.
He was driving up the main road when his mind drifted and he
found himself thinking about Kristal. He wondered how she was going
to react when she woke up in the morning to find a dead man in her
house. He could imagine the rage she would go into. A deceitful smile
stretched his thin lips and broadened until he was grinning. She would
have to convince the police that she had no hand in her lover’s murder.
It would be her word against his. And since she had not seen him do it,
she would not dare point him out to the police. If she dared, she would
automatically implicate herself as an accomplice to murder, in which
case they would both go down. But he knew she was too smart to do
that.
He slammed his foot flat on the accelerator, eager to get home
and sleep. A twisted feeling of triumph crossed his face. He had left
behind no trace of evidence that could incriminate him. Everything
else depended on Kristal. There was one thing he needed to do, though
– get rid of the gun. He caught his reflection in the mirror and pulled
a face as he noticed he was still wearing a moustache. He ripped it off
with one hand and stuffed it in the pocket of his trousers. He made a
quick mental note to get rid of that, too.
Down the road, Matthew flipped the channels on the radio to find
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something to take his mind off Maxwell and Kristal. But he could not
find anything other than the mind-numbing comments about the
President’s state of the nation speech. Every channel was rumbling
about it as if it were the only news they could report. But that was
about to change. Maxwell’s death was certainly going to be one that
would rock the entire country. All that garbage about the president’s
speech would be stale news. He could not wait to catch the morning
news on his dilapidated television set and to read the afternoon paper.
In the middle of the night, the twins’ crying woke Kristal, echoing
in the stillness of the house. It was as if they sensed the tragedy that had
happened in the house and needed someone to hold them and assure
them that everything was going to be all right. She checked the clock.
It was time for their feeds.
Her eyes were muzzy with sleep. She yawned miserably and
stumbled out of bed. The thought of Maxwell asleep in his room made
her sick. She had asked him repeatedly to take turns with her to nurse
the babies, but he showed no interest. If only he knew what was coming
to him! He was going to pay for all that he did to her. She swore at him
under her breath.
An hour later as she walked out of the nursery some strong sixth
sense urged her to peek into Maxwell’s bedroom just to check on him,
but she ignored that and went back to her room. Why would she care,
anyway?
David was first up in the morning. He walked to the kitchen to get
his milk, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and was surprised to find the
kitchen door open. Thinking his parents must have forgotten to lock it,
he closed it and carried his mug to the living room to wait for his father
to wake up and prepare him for school.
David had been sitting on the couch for a long time after he had
finished his milk when he realised that his father was taking too long to
come out of his room. Lately, he had been taking long to wake up, then
rushing David, forcing him to dress himself and tie his shoes while he
got dressed himself. He hated that. And he did not want to be late for
school.
He put his mug back in the kitchen and walked to Maxwell’s
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bedroom to wake him. He was met by a pool of blood on the floor

beside his bed. He had never seen so much blood in his life. He picked
up his steps until he was at Maxwell’s bedside, on the other side of the
bed where there was no blood. For a long moment he stared at his
father, and then he began to shake his shoulder, ‘Daddy, wake up.’ His
face was swollen and drenched in blood, as were his bedclothes. When
he would not stir, David knew something was seriously wrong with
him. Fear gripped him. He fled the room, screaming at the top of his
voice.
Kristal heard his loud screams from her bedroom. She leapt out of
bed. She caught up with him in the passage. David fell into her arms,
gasping for air and almost on the verge of collapse.
‘What is it, David?’ she asked, scooping him up.
‘It’s daddy. He ... he has ... blood in his bed.’
Fear immobilised her. Her mind seemed to have locked. It was the
babies’ cry from the nursery that unlocked her mind. She turned and
ran with David to his bedroom and put him into his bed.
She grabbed him by his shoulders. ‘Listen to me, honey,’ she said
breathlessly. ‘I’m going over to check on daddy. Don’t move out of this
room. Do you hear me?’
David nodded his head. He was in utter shock. His whole body
was shaking. He watched with fearful eyes as his mother fled from the
room and immediately pulled the bedcovers over his head.
Kristal ran past the nursery and straight to Maxwell’s room, the
loud cry of her babies piercing right through her heart. The silence in
his bedroom was sickening. All she could see was blood. The lump in
her throat engorged. She thought it would choke her and immediately
swallowed hard, so hard it almost hurt.
Very slowly she stepped into the room until she was standing over
him. One look at him told her instantaneously that he was dead. A
flood of dizziness swept over her. She looked around for something
to clutch at to prevent her from falling. There was nothing. Without
thinking she grabbed at the soiled bedcovers but missed, and fell with
a heavy crash over the pool of blood on the floor. As she tried to hoist
herself up she fell back on the slippery floor. She broke into hysteria
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and started screaming, running her bloody hand over her forehead
and hair. The police! She had to call the police!
She crawled out of the room, her head still spinning with giddiness,
leaving a trail of blood behind her. When she finally reached the phone
and the voice answered on the other end of the line she yelled, ‘Please
help ... Maxwell ... Maxwell Richardson ... he’s been murdered!’
Within thirty minutes, the house was swarming with police and
paramedics. They found her sitting hunched on the living room floor
next to the phone, her face and nightclothes stained with blood. Her
left elbow was swollen from the hard fall she took. The policemen
looked at each other and back at her, heads shaking.
Outside on the street, word had spread about the tragedy in her
household. The police officer was sweating to keep the bystanders from
crossing the barricade. The reporters were standing by with cameras
dangling over their necks, eager to catch snaps of Maxwell’s body
wheeled on a stretcher and covered in a black plastic bag. Some were on
their mobile phones, already reporting bits and pieces of information
as the series of events unfurled.
Up until that time it had not occurred to Kristal his death might
have been Matthew’s doing. After all, it had never been their plan that
he silenced him in her house. She asked herself for the hundredth time
who could have done it, and how the person got into the house.
In the next forty minutes, that passed so slowly, the paramedics
emerged from the house carrying David and the twins. David was
still wearing his pyjamas. Minutes later Kristal appeared, escorted by
the police offer with his arm over her shoulder. She was handcuffed.
Pandemonium broke out as the bystanders saw her blood-stained face
and clothes. The reporters closed in around her, flashes flickering. ‘Are
you responsible for Mr Richardson’s death?’ they were shouting. ‘Do
you stand to gain anything from his death?’ ‘Are you the beneficiary of
his life insurance?’ She hung her head, refusing to comment.
It was all over the afternoon newspapers. Matthew was sitting in his
living room with a newspaper in his hands, chewing his bubblegum.
He could not believe what he was he reading. He had waited for so
long to hear how the news unfolded and now this! Kristal held for
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questioning by the police! That was more than he had expected. And
how in God’s name did she get his blood smeared all over her face and
clothes? Had the woman finally lost her mind?
He leaned back in his seat and folded his arms over his chest.
He could almost hear his heart beating. What if she crumbled under
pressure and started opening her mouth to the police? A cold shiver
ran up his spine. He could smell the obnoxious smell of a prison cell.
His mind darted back to the night of the murder. He was certain –
almost one hundred percent certain – that he had left no incriminating
evidence in the house. They had found the kitchen door tampered
with, granted, but no fingerprints were found that could be linked to
him. And no one had seen him going into the house or leaving it. If
she dared mention him he would blatantly deny it. He thought of the
tape recorder and the pictures in his bedroom. Fear gripped him. He
had to get rid of them before they raided his house. He leapt to his feet
and brought them out, immediately tossing them into the fireplace,
sprinkling them with the petrol he had siphoned from his car. He
watched them burn to ashes. His heart sank. He was going to use them
to blackmail her for a share of the insurance money, and to get her into
bed. Now they were nothing but ashes.
A thousand miles away, Mandy Richardson was driving home
from work. She was in the habit of stopping at the local store to buy the
afternoon newspaper on her way home. But that afternoon, she drove
past it. All through the day she’d had a premonition that something
bad was about to happen. She could not put a finger on it, but the
feeling had persisted. She thought of Richard. Their love life had never
been better. He was not the kind of man who would hurt her. Not a
single day passed in which they did not talk on the telephone. He was
what she wanted, needed and deserved. When she was with him she
felt complete. They spent all their free time together, unable to keep
their hands off each other.
She flipped the channels on the radio to catch up on the news.
The newsreader’s voice came out sharp and clear as she announced the
tragic death of Maxwell Richardson. Mandy lost control of the car. It
skidded into the opposite lane before she regained control. There was
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loud screeching of tires as an oncoming motorist swerved to avoid a

head-on collision. He hooted fiercely and showed her his middle finger.
As she began to suffocate, she rolled down the windows. But there
was no escaping the news: ‘His live-in lover, Kristal Roberts, is being
held by the police at the station for questioning. At this stage she is the
prime suspect for the murder. She was found with blood all over her
face and nightclothes. The police have not found the murder weapon
but believe she must have got rid of it before the police arrived at the
house ...’
Mandy switched off the radio. She could not bear to hear anymore
of the shattering news. He may have done things to hurt her and destroy
their marriage, but this was not the way she wished for his life to end.
And what a way to end! By the time she pulled the car up at her family
home, she was a bundle of nerves. As she stumbled out of the car her
mobile rang, startling her. It was Richard, calling from the hospital. He
had just finished his last operation for the day and was having tea with
colleagues when the news came through on the radio.
‘Mandy darling, I just heard the news. I am so sorry. Where are
you?’ There was concern in his voice.
‘I ... I’ve just pulled up at the house.’
He sensed her distress. ‘I’m coming over right away. Your parents,
do you think they’re home?’ he asked, worried that she might be all
alone in the house with Danny.
‘They heard me pull up. They’re at the door, waiting for me. I think
they’ve already heard the news.’
‘Good ... I mean it’s good that they’re home. I’ll see you in a few
minutes.’ As he replaced the receiver his heart was beating unusually
fast. It was the first time he would be coming face-to-face with his
future in-laws. He wondered how they were going to react to seeing
him at their doorstep.
As soon as Mandy stepped onto the balcony, her mother ran to
meet her.
‘My poor baby, what a dreadful thing to happen to Maxwell.’ She
led Mandy to the living room where a pot of tea was waiting for her.
Her father followed them, too distressed to utter a word.
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The aroma of the herbal tea was good as Mrs Jackson poured and
handed the cups around.
Mandy drank thirstily. When she put the cup down it was empty.
‘Where’s Danny?’ she asked.
‘In his bedroom, taking an afternoon siesta,’ her mother replied.
‘How are we going to break the news to him?’ she asked in a sad
voice, looking at her father, and then back at her mother.
Both hung their heads. It was going to be the most painful thing
they would ever have to break to him. Her mother poured a second
cup for each of them. For a long while they sipped the tea in silence,
each absorbed with their own thoughts. Suddenly the doorbell rang,
jolting them back to the present. Mr Jackson got to his feet and opened
the door. Richard’s voice broke the silence in the house.
‘I’m Richard ... Richard Jameson,’ he said as he stretched out his
hand to Mr Jackson. ‘I’m here to see Mandy.’
They shook hands. Mr Jackson stunned him when he said, ‘We’ve
heard so much about you, Dr Jameson. And thank you for coming
over. Mandy will be pleased to see you. Please follow me.’ His lips had
parted into a tiny grin.
Both women rose to their feet to welcome him. Mrs Jackson
stepped forward. ‘I’m Mandy’s mother. Welcome to our humble home.’
‘Thank you, Dr Jackson.’
‘Please call me Susan. Would you like a cup of tea?’
He nodded politely. As she poured it, he walked across and took
Mandy in his arms, oblivious to their staring eyes. In the warmth of his
arms Mandy dissolved into tears again.
‘Everything will be all right, darling. I’m here for you, always will
be.’
He continued to hold her in his arms until her sobbing had sub
sided. Afterwards, he settled into his seat and drank his tea in silence,
deciding to be a listener to their conversation for a long while, rather
than a participant. The conversation was interrupted when Danny
appeared at the doorway, his eyes still drowsy with sleep. They all
looked at each other. Richard tapped his foot nervously on the floor.
He knew it was time he was told about his father.
215
Mandy called him to her and sat him on her lap, hugging him
tightly to her. And then she looked hesitantly at her parents as if
drawing some strength from them.
‘It’s all right, honey, you can tell him,’ her father urged her.
She cleared her throat. ‘Baby, there’s something you need to know.
It’s about your father. Something terrible has happened to him.’
He looked up at her. ‘What is it, mummy? What happened to my
daddy?’
‘Daddy was shot, last night.’
‘Is he going to be all right, mummy?’ he asked in a sad whisper.
Mandy hesitated for a second, then shook her head slowly. Her
voice trembled. ‘He didn’t make it, baby. He died. I’m so sorry.’
Danny wriggled himself from her and stood a few inches away
from her, facing her with his face a mask of fright. ‘My daddy is not
dead. You’re a liar! My daddy is not dead!’ He started for the door.
He was crying without restraint. It was indeed a heart-rending and
emotionally charged moment for the family.
The sudden news of his father’s death had shattered and devastated
him. Up until that day Danny had always believed that death only
claimed older folks. When his grandfather passed away, Danny was only
four years old. He’d taken it pretty well, after seeing his grandfather in
hospital, lying in bed and looking very sick. He had sat on his lap and
asked him if he was going to die. His grandfather had looked at him
and smiled, nodding his head slowly and promising him he would be
watching over him from heaven. Since that day, Danny had visited him
with his mother until the day he died. He had time to say goodbye to
him.
Mandy’s father made a move to go after him, but Richard beckoned
him to remain sitting and followed him out of the room. He came back
carrying him in his arms and sat him on his lap.
‘Listen to me, Danny-boy,’ said Richard, speaking gently and
slowly. ‘I know this has come as a shock to you. We all know how much
you love your daddy. And we know how painful it is for you. But your
mummy is hurting too. She needs you to be strong for her. Don’t walk
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away from her, Danny. We’re all going to be here for you, grandma and
grandpa, and me and George.’
Danny wiped his tears and gazed deep into Richard’s eyes. ‘You’re
not going to leave me too?’
Richard ruffled his hair. ‘I’m never going to leave you, or your
mummy, ever. Now, promise me you’re going to be strong and take
care of mummy.’
Danny hesitated for a while, and then said, ‘I promise.’ He flung
his arms around Richard, tears trickling down his cheeks again. They
clung to each other like father and son for what seemed like hours.
After Richard had left, Mandy’s father walked over to Mandy and
took her hand in his. ‘That’s one heck of a man you have. Take good care
of him, baby.’ He turned and walked out of the room, overwhelmed by
emotions.
Very little was said around the dinner table. Mandy managed to
finish her meal. If she was going to face what lay ahead of her and
Danny, she needed all the strength she could get. Surprisingly, Danny
finished his meal too before he retired to his room to play TV games.
That night Mandy slept and woke, tossing restlessly in bed until
she switched on the light again. She had brought the newspaper to the
bedroom. She sat up in bed and began to read it. And still, all she felt
was disbelief.
She could see her face in the large mirror hanging from the wall
across the room. She got out of bed and walked toward it, feeling a light
throbbing in her head. And then she stood in front of it and studied
her face. That spark of vitality she’d always carried in her eyes since
she’d met Richard had disappeared. She buried her face in her hands
and mumbled, ‘Oh Kristal, why did you do this to him? I thought you
loved him. You promised to take good care of him.’ She had no control
over the tears that streamed out of her eyes.
Long after Mandy’s father was in bed and fast asleep, his wife found
she could not sleep. Stealthily she left the room, yearning for a cup of
tea. As she walked past Mandy’s bedroom, she noticed that Mandy’s
light was still on. She peeped in and saw her sitting up in bed with the
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newspaper on her lap. Her heart bled for her. As a mother, she wished
she could take away Mandy’s pain and carry it for her.
She stepped in and sat at the edge of her bed. ‘It’s all right if you want
to cry, sweetheart. We all know how much you loved him. Nothing can
easily erode that.’
‘Oh mother. My heart really bleeds for Danny. He’s going to grow
up without a father in his life.’
‘He’s got you and Richard, and he’s got us. He’ll be all right, you’ll
see.’ For a long while she held her daughter tightly in her arms, not
wanting to let go of her.
‘His mistress, I can’t believe she did this to him. I thought she loved
him, mother. My flesh wants to beat the hell out her, I want to hate her,’
she said, repulsed.
‘You can’t put anything past these predatory women. If only Max
well had never met her. Now look what’s happened to him.’
When her sobbing had eventually stopped, her mother rose to her
feet, pulled her out of bed and persuaded her to come downstairs with
her to the kitchen. ‘What you need is a nice cup of tea.’
It was a cold night. Mandy shivered as she walked down the stairs
beside her mother and pulled her gown tightly around herself.
It was the beginning of December, and already people were getting

in the mood for Christmas. Kristal had been held in custody for the
murder of Maxwell, and denied bail. She sat hunched on a hard bed in
her prison cell, distraught, and refusing the meals she was offered. In
the past four days she had been turning away all the visitors who came
to see her, including her mother and Frankie. All she needed was to be
alone with her thoughts as she tried to make sense of Maxwell’s death.
Her mind continued to race in utter confusion. It had never been
part of the plan to have him murdered in her house. Was it possible
that Matthew murdered Maxwell? Or was it someone else who did it?
She thought of her telephone conversation with Matthew. She made
it clear that she needed the murder to take place at the underground
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parking of his office building. Matthew understood that perfectly. And

then she thought of Mandy. She too had every motive to kill him. Why
could the police not see that?
But when Mandy’s vivid image appeared before her eyes she
shrugged the thought from her mind. During the short time she had
been with her, she did not strike Kristal as the kind that could kill her
husband. Besides, she had heard rumours that she had since relocated
to Cape Town. A sick thought struck her. What if Matthew did it? Was
he setting her up for murder to cover himself? Anger flared up inside
her. She vowed by her father’s grave that she would get even with him
– in one way or the other. If he thought she was going to pay him the
rest of the money she owed him, he had a big surprise waiting for him.
Her heart bled when she thought of her children. When first she
inquired after them, she had been told that they were taken into foster
care. She could not imagine them in the care of a complete stranger,
with the twins left in soiled diapers for hours and crying for feeds. For
the first time since Maxwell’s death, she buried her face in her hands
and sobbed.
On the day that the pre-trial hearing took place downtown at the
high court, it was hot – hotter than it had been in months. Kristal was
wearing a sea-green summer dress with her hair hanging over her
shoulders. Even without her make-up she looked beautiful. One of her
arms was supported in a cast. The x-ray at the hospital had confirmed
a linear fracture from the hard fall she took in Maxwell’s bedroom.
Outside the courtroom, the street was swarming with reporters, given
the attention his murder had attracted. Kristal was whisked through
the back door and narrowly avoided being photographed.
No one was allowed inside the courtroom except for the accused
and the witnesses. The two prosecutors sat across the table from the
defence lawyer. On a small table to the right sat the court administrator
with a typewriter before her, ready to take notes.
David was the first witness to be called in after his mother’s gruelling
219
hour of cross-examination. He was accompanied by a middle-aged

woman from the social services department. He looked around the
courtroom nervously, tugging at the woman’s dress and hiding his tiny
face behind her.
The lawyers smiled warmly at him to ease his nervousness. A
drawing book and crayons were placed before him. The woman put a
reassuring hand on his shoulder and said in a gentle voice, ‘David, if
you need to draw anything, please feel free to do so. Is that all right?’
He nodded shyly, grateful that she had taken a seat beside him and not
left him alone with the strange-looking men around the table. Her arm
was wrapped protectively around his shoulder. He felt safe.
It was the prosecutor who started with his line of questioning.
‘David, my name is Gerald. But you can call me Gerry.’ He waited
for David’s response. There was none. He was already making sketches
in the book.
He leaned forward with elbows flexed over the table. ‘Now, David,
please tell us what you saw when you went into daddy’s bedroom on
the morning he could not wake up.’ He deliberately avoided using the
word ‘murdered.’
David looked up and started to talk. ‘There was blood on the floor.’
‘And what else did you see?’
‘There was blood on his face and in his bed.’
‘What else did you see, David?’
He shook his head and started to draw again.
The prosecutor licked his bottom lip, not sure how to proceed. He
never had to question a little boy David’s age in his entire career. ‘What
did you do after seeing daddy covered in blood, David?’
‘I ran to call mummy.’
‘And where was mummy at the time?’
‘In her bedroom,’ he answered. His attention had shifted back to
his drawing book.
‘Why was mummy in her bedroom and not in daddy’s room?’
‘She sleeps there, and daddy sleeps in his room.’ The prosecutor
tilted his head sideways and shot a glance at his partner. He had a twisted
feeling of euphoria that they were about to get some breakthrough they
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needed to strengthen their case. In murder cases like this, it always

starts with couples sleeping in separate rooms. When he asked his next
question, there was vitality in his tone of voice.
‘And what did mummy do when you ran to her?’
‘She came running from her bedroom and picked me up and took
me to my room and said I must stay there and be quiet and then she
ran to his bedroom.’ He was speaking rapidly without pauses.
The defence lawyer thought it was wisest to plunge in. He cleared
his throat and asked, ‘Was there any blood on mummy’s hands when
she picked you up, David?’
David frowned. ‘No.’ His voice was suddenly raised.
‘Was there blood on the clothes mummy was wearing?’
He frowned again. He was clearly becoming agitated. ‘No. It was
only on daddy’s face and on the floor.’
The prosecutor scratched his head with the back of the pencil he
was holding between his fingers, thinking: the boy is corroborating
what his mother had said earlier. His heart sank.
David had drawn a faint sketch of a hut with the door standing ajar.
The defence lawyer studied it for a long moment and asked, ‘Do you
want to tell us something about this picture, David?’
A smile lit up his small face, priding himself on his artistic skill.
‘Daddy forgot to lock the door.’
Stolen glances were exchanged around the table. ‘David, when did
daddy forget to lock the door?’
‘When he went to sleep and did not wake up in the morning.’
Although he was asleep long before his parents retired to bed that
night, he knew that it was his father who always checked to see that all
the doors in the house were locked before they sat at the dinner table.
‘Was the door open after you saw daddy covered in blood?’
He shook his head, staring with suspicious eyes. ‘I saw it and then
closed it. And then I drank my milk and went to his room to wake
him.’ Even as he said it, the prosecutor knew instantly that David had a
sharp little mind for someone of his age, and that he was the one who
was going to save his mother from being locked away behind bars for
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many years. Nervously he started chewing the end of the pencil, his
mind already drifting to the next murder case.
The insurance representative was called in and confirmed the
million-rand life-insurance policy that Maxwell had taken two years
before his tragic death.
The second prosecutor, who, until that time, had been sitting
quietly and thoughtfully, rubbed a hand over his hair and asked,
‘How did you meet with Mr Richardson for the first time?’ Beads of
perspiration were forming on his forehead. The heat in the room was
almost tangible.
‘We met by chance in a pub one afternoon and started talking.’ He
stopped abruptly as though trying to remember something, his eyes
shifting from one face to the other, and then proceeded slowly. ‘And
may I add that it was me that initiated the conversation about the life
insurance. Mr Richardson was not interested at first, saying that he
and his wife had sufficient cover for their lives. But you know how we
salespeople are ... I managed to twist his arm and in the end he invited
me to his office the next day to sign the contract.’
There was a brief pause.
The defence lawyer tapped his pen on the table and asked, ‘Did
it surprise you that he had someone else as a beneficiary and not his
wife?’ He held his breath afterwards as he waited for the reply.
The man shook his head vehemently. ‘We see these things all the
time. Some men have more than one concubine, and children with
them. They take policies to provide for their bastard children should
something like this happen to them.’
The older prosecutor with greying hair let out a soft sigh. He
thought the man was a hostile witness and regretted ever calling him
in. Minutes later, Kristal was summoned back in the courtroom. She
met the piercing eyes of the prosecutor with calmness that stunned
even her.
When asked to take a polygraph test, she agreed, and passed it. She
was no longer a murder suspect and exonerated of the charges. She
was elated, and knew that her son had done much to save her. Now it
was time to face Maxwell’s burial. His family was in possession of his
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body and showed no intention to communicate with her. It seemed as

if she and her children did not exist. She felt deep resentment for them.
If that’s the way they intend treating me, she thought to herself, they
would never get to see their grandchildren.
That afternoon, Matthew read the news and breathed an enormous
sigh of relief. But he wished he had not acted so quickly in destroying
the incriminating evidence he had against Kristal. It was the only
weapon he had. Now, the chances of getting any more money out of
her seemed very slim.
The funeral service was later held at the local Catholic church. It
was sombre and dignified. Mourners had converged in large numbers
to pay their last respects. Dignitaries and businessmen came from all
walks of life, all to remember Maxwell as the courageous man who
contributed enormously to the overhauling of the judicial system. His
colleagues carried his coffin, wearing their courtroom regalia, heads
hanging down in deep mourning.
The church was filled beyond capacity. Those unable to get seats
remained standing outside on the church steps, some pacing the lawn.
Mandy sat in the front row wearing a black suit with a skirt cut
below the knees and a black hat. Her face was a mask of sadness. You
could attend many funerals and say goodbye to many people, but
saying goodbye to someone you had truly loved for many years was
devastating. There were no words to describe the pain she was feeling
inside.
Danny was sitting beside her. He looked immaculate in his Sunday
school black suit and a tie. He had never seen so many flowers in his
life. Grief was showing all over his brooding face. His delicate little
hand had supported his chin as he observed every proceeding in the
church with an injured sense of utter loss. Nothing at that hour could
bring any hope of relief from his sudden contact with sorrow.
Mandy had her arm affectionately around his shoulder. Richard
was next to him, also in a black suit. Beside him were Sharon and her
twin boys. They had accompanied their mother to give support to
their friend, Danny. Their father, Robert, was on the stage with the
other pall-bearers. Mr and Mrs Jackson could be seen three rows from
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them, with Tom and Henry beside them. Tom kept shifting his eyes to
Maxwell’s coffin. In some way he knew that Maxwell’s biggest downfall
was going to be his mistress.
During the eulogy, the high court judge spoke well about Maxwell
as a dedicated and zealous advocate who was destined for great things,
and a remarkable friend to his many colleagues. He was loved and
adored by everyone, he said, looking at Mrs Richardson and Mandy and
Danny as he spoke. Quite a few sobs could be heard in the church. The
reality of the darkness of death loomed in the minds of the mourners.
It was a spine-chilling experience.
At the cemetery, Mandy was not particularly looking to see who
was there. But from a distance she saw her, among the large crowd of
mourners. She was not dressed in black like all the mourners, but in
colourful clothing as if attending a wedding function – as if she came to
gloat. She was carrying her son in her arms. Nobody seemed to pay any
attention to her. Neither did anyone care that she was there. She had
come of her own accord, uninvited by the Richardson family. While
Mandy had never hated her before, she hated her now. Even though
she was exonerated of the murder charges, she knew deep in her heart
that she had a part to play in her ex-husband’s murder.
From a distance, Kristal watched quietly as the coffin was lowered
into the grave. She did not shed a single tear; she had not come there to
cry for him, but simply to witness that he had indeed gone and would
never again appear in her life. If she had her way, she would have
pushed through the crowd to spit on his grave.
Later, as she walked to her car holding David’s arm, someone tapped
her shoulder from behind. She turned to look. Her mouth gaped at the
sight of Matthew. They walked side by side until she reached her car.
She took a few moments gathering her thoughts as she fastened David
to his seat. And then she turned on him.
‘What do you want here?’ There was no drop of kindness in her
voice as she asked.
‘I need the rest of the money.’
She raised her eyebrow in question. ‘I don’t know what you’re
talking about, Matthew.’
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‘Look, Kristal, we made a deal, remember? I silenced him. You owe

me the rest of the money.’
She laughed to his face. ‘No, Matthew, you didn’t do it. You didn’t
murder Maxwell. Someone else did it and he is still at large. The police
are looking for him and will not stop until they catch him. Unless, of
course, you want me to call them and tell them it was you.’ She caught
her breath soon after the words had escaped from her mouth, watching
him closely. His face fell. She knew at that instant that she had him
where she wanted him. The few days she had spent in police custody
had hardened her. She had learnt to stand on her own two feet and to
fight for her own survival. And after what Maxwell did to her, she had
sworn to herself that no man would ever take advantage of her.
She reached into her bag, pulled out her mobile phone and began to
dial a number. ‘What do you have to say for yourself, Matthew? Should
I call the police? I’m ready if you are.’ She lifted the phone to her ear.
Cold panic got hold of him. Without a thought, he flung out his
hand and grabbed her arm, almost causing the phone to slip from her
hand. ‘Wait!’
She wriggled from his grip. ‘Don’t you dare touch me, you filthy
monster!’
He let go of her arm and with the same hand rubbed the sweat
from his forehead. He stared at her and thought of his mother. Her
hospital bills were never going to be settled. His thoughts shifted to
his wife. For a long while now, she had been threatening to leave him.
Now that it seemed he was never going to come up with the money he
had been dreaming about, there was an ominous end to his marriage.
The stripper girls at the local club would not even give him a second
look. Penniless as he was, he could not afford to pay them. He thought
of the tape recorder and the pictures he had destroyed. Without them,
he had nothing to hold her to ransom. His lips started to tremble. Rage
seethed inside him. He gathered himself together and jiggled a finger
at her. ‘I will get you for this, Kristal. I swear by my father’s grave.’
‘Over my dead body you will.’
225
He watched as she started the car and sped away. It was long after
Kristal had disappeared that he began walking to his dilapidated car,
with shoulders hanging.
226
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It was a week before Christmas. Temperatures were soaring. The heat

on the pavements was enough to fry an egg. Mandy and Richard
were spending a weekend all alone at his house. His son, George,
was spending the school holidays with Richard’s mother, and his
housekeeper was away. They were jogging back to his house, soaked
in perspiration and panting as they ran up the narrow, winding road
to the house. Mandy’s calf muscles were aching. The incline was too
steep for her. Once in a while she stopped to rub her legs, but Richard
urged her on.
As soon as they stepped into the house, Mandy started to undress
and walked straight to the bathroom, leaving Richard standing at the
door and watching her with a shake of his head. Seconds later she was
in a shower, humming a song as warm water trickled down her face
and her sore body. Suddenly she heard the shower curtain open and
felt cold air gush in. She turned to look. He was standing across from
her, naked. She had never seen his naked body. She could not take her
eyes off him, unable to believe what she was seeing. She had never
seen such a beautiful body, neither had she thought of a man’s body as
227
beautiful – and with so much muscle! She stood there, looking at him
as if gripped by some kind of magnet; she’d completely forgotten that
she was naked herself and that he was staring at her in the same way.
He had the shower gel in his hand. He squeezed it and built up a
lather in his hands, then began to massage her neck and shoulders.
She groaned pleasurably and lifted her head to look at him. Their faces
were close, his eyes burning into hers. There was a sudden sparkle in
her eyes as she continued to gaze up at him. His soapy hands moved
down and cupped her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples.
And when his hands slid down her belly and between her legs,
flames of desire exploded inside her, sensations she never thought she
possessed. Her whole body was on fire. She ached for him like she had
never ached for anyone.
Neither of them knew who made the first move as they got
passionate with each other. His lips searched hers as the water blinded
their eyes, and when they touched, hers trembled. They began kissing.
There was hunger and urgency in their kisses. There was no time to
get to the bedroom. She opened her legs and allowed him inside her.
As he entered her she let out a soft groan and clasped her arms tightly
around his neck. Their bodies rocked together until they climaxed at
the same time.
They remained clinging to each other, their breaths coming out in
gasps. In just a few moments he had possessed her body, and she had
yielded to him unreservedly. Later, as they lay spent in bed, she caught
him looking at her with a smile stretching his lips, forehead deeply
furrowed; she wondered what he was thinking about.
As though reading her thoughts he drew her in his arms, looking
deep into her eyes and said, ‘Thank you darling.’
She thought she knew what he meant by that but wanted him to say
it. Women like to hear that.
‘Thank you for what, my love?’ she asked, rolling on top of him.
‘Our lovemaking. You were wonderful.’
She was openly pleased that he found her sexually desirable. A
smile appeared on her face as she recalled the experience. The feelings
had been wide and deep. Even the force of her own passion had left her
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completely stunned. She thought of how it was with Maxwell and how
different it was with him. The difference was that she was deeply and
hopelessly in love with him. He was what she wanted, what she needed
and what she deserved. And she was now part of him as much as he
was a part of her.
Suddenly they both realised they were famished. Richard walked
to the closet to get them something to wear. She was sitting up in bed
and watching him. He put on his robe and handed her his pyjama shirt.
It hung loosely on her, almost touching her knees. He watched her as
she buttoned it. Unable to contain himself, he started to laugh aloud.
‘What’s so funny?’ she asked, nudging his shoulder with her flexed
elbow.
‘You look so beautiful in that shirt, Mrs Richard Jameson.’
She flung a pillow at him. He ducked his head in time to see it hit
the headboard.
‘I’m going to get you,’ he said playfully and went after her. They
circled the room, laughing happily. Yes, laughter. He realised that
laughter was what had been missing in his life. When he finally caught
up with her, he scooped her up and carried her down the stairs on his
back.
As the weatherman had predicted earlier in the afternoon, the
rain began to come down heavily, drops of water plopping down and
slashing at the windows. It continued to rain as though it would never
stop. The temperature suddenly dropped. It felt like a cold winter
evening.
As Mandy scrambled a quick dinner, Richard sat reading a news
paper at the kitchen table. Every few minutes when she was not
watching, he stole admiring glances at her, thinking: she really looks
like the woman of the house. He could not get enough of her. She was
everything a man wanted in a woman: smart, stylish and naturally
sophisticated, with an incredible sense of humour. More than ever, he
was convinced she was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his
life with. He could not imagine his life without her in it.
As he continued to watch her in his night shirt, it set off a smile on
his face. When it became colder, Richard left the room to light the fire
229
in the living room. An hour later, Mandy carried the food tray into the
living room. He came up behind her and took it from her.
‘I have an idea, darling,’ he said flirtatiously. ‘Why don’t we lay the
bedding on the thick carpet and have our dinner in front of the fire?’
Mandy paused for a while, as if thinking, and said, ‘And spend the
rest of the night there with the fire blazing before us?’
‘Good idea. Run along and get the bottle of wine while I go upstairs
for the bedding.’
A few minutes later, they sat with trays of food as though on a
picnic. When they finished eating and were drinking their glasses of
wine, he played with the ends of her hair, lifting them in his fingers and
then smoothing them back on her scalp. Suddenly they both felt cold
and Richard realised that the fire had burnt low. He walked over and
thrust in a few logs, coaxing them to life with a poker.
Later, their wine was left unfinished as they snuggled under the
bedcovers and began making love again. The rain was soothing as it
plopped down over their heads. They did not wake up until eleven
o’ clock the next morning.
On Christmas day, Richard had lunch with Mandy and her family.
After her mother cleared the dishes from the table, Richard did the
unthinkable. He rose from his chair and knelt down on one knee,
taking Mandy’s hand into both of his. ‘Mandy, I’ve known you for
almost seven months now. I carry my love for you in my heart and in
my soul. Ever since I met you I knew you were the woman I wanted to
spend the rest of my life with. Will you marry me?’ He held his breath.
There were tears in her eyes. Without a moment of hesitation, she
said, ‘Yes, my love. I will marry you.’
Her mother wiped the tears of joy from her eyes. For a while, her
father sat looking at Richard, then got to his feet slowly and extended
his hand to him. ‘Welcome to the family, son.’
‘It’s a great honour for me, dad,’ he said as he shook his hand.
Three weeks later, they were married by a priest at the Catholic
church. Friends and relatives had gathered to witness the union of two
people who truly loved each other. Rachel and her husband had arrived
a day earlier just to be with Mandy and her new family. Mandy wore
230
A WOMAN WRONGED
a simple but beautiful white dress with gold trimming that radiated
outwards like morning sunrays. Danny and George were flower boys,
both wearing black suits with ties. They walked down the aisle ahead
of the bride; they held woven baskets full of red rose petals that they
sprinkled in Mandy’s path. Every few seconds, Mandy stole glances at
her father, his face proud as he led her down the aisle.
Richard watched them approach, his eyes moist with tears. He had
dreamed for days and nights for that moment to arrive. As they said
their vows, he looked deep into her eyes. The pain he once saw in those
eyes had died. He vowed to himself that she would never again know
such pain.
When it was time to kiss the bride, he lifted the veil from her face,
wiped the tears from her eyes and kissed her with the passion that
burned inside him.
Tom and Henry watched tearfully as they both remembered how
far she had come. But they drew comfort from the fact that she was
never going to go through the same pain again. Infidelity was a concept
that did not exist in the vocabulary of the man she was marrying. In
the row behind them sat Sharon and Robert, with their twin boys
between them. And next to Robert was Mark, Mandy’s banker. Mark
was secretly wondering what Maxwell would say if he was watching
from his grave, seeing his ex-wife committing her life to a man who
respected the sanctity of marriage, a man who was promising to love
her until death separated them.
Two weeks after they returned from their honeymoon, Mandy and
Richard were lying on the beach and watching Danny and George from
a short distance as they swam. There was a happy smile on Mandy’s face
as she continued to watch them. She had never seen Danny looking so
happy and serene. Having Richard in his life made up for the absence
of his father. He felt sheltered in the love of his mother, stepfather and
stepbrother, so much so that it never entered his head to feel deprived.
She and Danny, and Richard and George, had all begun a new chapter
in their lives, one that was filled with love and happiness.
Richard startled her out of her wandering thoughts as he wrapped
his arms around her. ‘They look so happy together,’ he said, gesturing in
231
their direction. ‘But I think there’s something they’re missing, darling,’

he said affectionately.
She smiled a secretive smile, knowing exactly what he meant by
that. But she had to ask, just to be sure. ‘And what’s that you think
they’re missing, love?’ she asked.
‘A baby sister, don’t you think?’
She looked up at him and nodded. ‘And when do you think we can
start trying for that?’
‘I want us to start immediately. Tonight. I want her to look just like
you. And I just know you’re going to be such a beautiful pregnant wife.’
‘And you’re going to be an adorable expectant father.’
‘I love you so much, Mandy Jameson.’
‘And I love you too, Richard.’
She flung her arms around his neck as they rolled on the sand, her
head resting on his chest while she listened to the sound of the waves.
232
Infidelity comes at a price.
the question is:
How much IS ONE willing to pay?
An unexpected encounter forces the beautiful and elegent Mandy R ichardson,

devoted wife and mother, to confront the reality that her prominent and well-
respected husband of ten years, Advocate Maxwell Richardson, is not the man
he’s made out to be. As the shocking details of his double life unfold, so Mandy’s
own life b egins to rapidly unravel in ways she could never have imagined, or
control. When a woman is betrayed to this degree, can she ever recover enough
to love and trust again?
Meanwhile, Maxwell’s demons are catching up with him. Fast. For just how
long can he hold the crumbling fabric of his life together? And does he really
think he will get away with the web of lies and deceit he has woven around the
two women who love him most?
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www.quickfox.co.za

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A Woman Wronged

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LUST ... LIES ... INFIDELITY ...

Limited first edition 2010

Available from www.publisher.co.za

Copyright © Rebone Thibedi-Mogotsi

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,

Editor – Angela Voges

In memory of my late parents,

To my eldest brother, Mathang Thibedi: thank you for believing that

To my son, Thuto Mogotsi: thank you for keeping me grounded.

A big thank you to Angela Voges for the professionalism she

To Quickfox Publishing: a special thank you to Vanessa Wilson

‘Honey, I’m home.’

‘Then who is it?’

‘I’m playing my TV game. Want to join me, daddy? It would be

His expression changed abruptly, becoming suddenly stiff. ‘How

‘Unless of course you like it.’

smoked in the house, especially when Danny was around. He had

So comforting were his mother’s words that Danny began to

listened attentively to the doctor with fear rising somewhere down in

had learnt. He knew he had a long way to go to undo the damage he

though clearing it before he spoke. ‘The case you overheard me tell

hunger had been insatiable and voracious. As much as he gave it to her,

‘I heard you, and understand you perfectly. But I still need us to

On a Thursday morning, one week after Mandy had returned from

An idea came to her as she continued to look out the window, up

afraid of asking questions, and he expected answers. In many ways, he

with a towel and picked up the bathroom extension, wondering if it

Mandy smiled inwardly again. ‘You don’t have to remind me,

conceivable that someone as honourable as Maxwell could do any such

‘I just hope to God we’re wrong about him. Mandy wouldn’t be

Mandy stood there, glaring across at him and eagerly waiting to

Kristal’s answer was quick and short. ‘Four years.’

of silence as Mandy swallowed a lump in her throat and blinked back

movies. Until it happens to you personally, you can only imagine it as

Tom understood: even he and Henry were still finding it hard to

and elegant, and who had a deep sense of commitment to family. In

‘Good. Now stay on the line while I take your particulars.’

‘Mandy, are you there? Please don’t hang up on me.’ He was

‘In which way am I scaring you?’

He made an enigmatic gesture with his hands and looked away,

‘I’ve changed all the locks.’

before she indulged in her drinking. When eventually she reached

Mandy slept deeply.

god-forsaken restaurant where she’d walked in on her husband and his

and is due to deliver anytime. Advocate Richardson could not be reached

suddenly changed from irritation to resentment. ‘Why are you calling

unexpectedly appearing in their lives and turning them upside down.

‘What’s there to reflect on, darling? We have a healthy handsome

‘It’s a girl!’ The midwife shouted in exhilaration, unaware that

‘Can I, mummy?’ The nervousness was instantly replaced by

wondering who he might be, thinking perhaps he was a tourist in the

electricity building up between them. Much as they both tried to ignore

He hunched his shoulders forward and laughed aloud. ‘I hope it

‘Not that I can remember,’ she answered, sounding cheerful and

returned to the kitchen window, wondering if they shared the same

bedroom to wake him. He was met by a pool of blood on the floor

loud screeching of tires as an oncoming motorist swerved to avoid a

It was the beginning of December, and already people were getting

parking of his office building. Matthew understood that perfectly. And

hour of cross-examination. He was accompanied by a middle-aged

needed to strengthen their case. In murder cases like this, it always

body and showed no intention to communicate with her. It seemed as

‘Look, Kristal, we made a deal, remember? I silenced him. You owe

It was a week before Christmas. Temperatures were soaring. The heat

An unexpected encounter forces the beautiful and elegent Mandy R ichardson,