Zephany. Joanne Jowell
He then showed me a picture of her and I shook my head, ‘No, I don’t look like her.’
Then he asked, ‘Why are you dressed in sports clothes?’
So I told him it was sports day today and I like fitness.
‘Cassidy’s mom also likes fitness and Zumba and stuff like that.’
What he was saying didn’t register as anything other than a bit weird. I drank my cooldrink and then Cassidy and Morné left. But Morné took the empty cup after I drank – he took it! He said, ‘I’m going to throw it in the bin,’ but he took it to his van. To me, it looked like he was going to throw it out but then just forgot and took it with to his car. But when The Truth came out later and I actually thought about everything that had happened, I realised that I was surrounded by people who were actually investigating me. And that cooldrink was the first bit of DNA evidence.
After that day, it felt like Cassidy started following me at school. She’d be waiting for me at the school gate when we went in, or at the tuck-shop at intervals. It felt like she was invading my space. My friends and I would be having a conversation, like maybe we want to gossip, but we can’t because she’s sitting here, all the time here. It made my friends feel uncomfortable.
Maybe I was rude and I didn’t approach the situation properly, but I told her that she’s in my face all the time. She started staying away and I felt bad because I’m sure I made her feel that I didn’t want her around. We’d pass each other and say, ‘Hi,’ and it wasn’t so intense. For a little while, she was just that girl.
Chapter 4
Before we proceed any further with the story, I must discharge my biographer’s code and seek out the real-life characters themselves.
Cassidy is the first of the Nurse family to have made an appearance in Miché’s life and is duly the first I’d like to meet. Miché has a good relationship with her and is happy to facilitate a chat. Aside from the obvious role of chief protagonist in her own biography, Miché is also the primary connection to the story’s other role players and must give her okay for them to disclose any information. To Miché, it’s open season, and she is prepared for all relevant parties to give their own honest accounts, subjective as they may be.
Miché can’t quite pin down Cassidy at the moment, though. She concedes that things have not been easy for Cassidy lately, that she’s been moving around a lot and getting into trouble at school. Contact between them – mostly governed by WhatsApp conversation – seems to ebb and flow and today’s tide is out. So I’ll have to wait.
MICHÉ:
I came late to school that morning. I had a doctor’s appointment and I was cooking that day as well for Consumer Studies. I brought all my stuff to school, went straight into Maths, and sat down. I hadn’t even taken out all my books when the principal, Dr De Bruyn, came to the classroom. He looked at me and said, ‘Miss Solomon, please take your bags and come with me.’
I was like, Gosh, what did I do? The year is still young! Had he caught me bunking at the tennis courts or something? When you’re in Matric, you need to show a good impression to the younger grades, so this was not good.
My friends were like, ‘What’s this? What did you do?’
I laughed. I was like, ‘No, I didn’t do anything, it’s still early in the year!’
I go into the principal’s office and there are two women sitting there. I’m told they are social workers and I recognise the one name – Leanna Goosen. I somehow connected it with that day Morné came to McDonald’s and I thought maybe this all had something to do with Cassidy and why she’s been staying away and not so persistent anymore.
I sat down and they were like, ‘Hi, how are you?’ They already knew my name. ‘We need to tell you something. This could be an eventful day, the day that changes your life.’
I said, ‘What do you mean, changes my life or an eventful day?!’
They said: ‘We believe you’ve heard about this girl Zephany who was stolen. Well, this is what’s happening now …’ And from there, they just came at me with this story: that a baby was kidnapped in 1997 when she was a few days old; that they need to rule out any possibilities that that child is still alive; that they need to rule out any possibilities that that child could be me; that they need to do DNA tests … Honestly, when I look back now I feel that they came on very strong with very little information. Just: here you go, this is what’s happening now.
My first response was, ‘I’m not going to do a DNA test. Why must I? Give me more information that can actually convince me there’s a reason for me to agree to a DNA test.’
They asked me when and where I was born. I told them, ‘Retreat Hospital on the 30th of April 1997.’
Then they said – and this is what shocked me – that there was no record of a Miché Solomon born at Retreat Hospital on or around that date.
I felt completely stunned.
They told me that an investigation was under way. There were two detectives and a social worker at my house already – ‘just there to talk.’ My aunty was at my house that day – she lives on the property but with a separate entrance – so they were talking to her. And there was another one fetching my dad at work and my mom at work. They knew about my brother – who was now married – and where he was working. They even knew where my boyfriend was working.
I recalled that my aunty had said she was sure she was being followed by someone in a white car. She took me to school most mornings and there was definitely the same person behind her for three mornings in a row. But we never imagined this could be the reason!
I started seeing connections with Cassidy, Morné and all the weird stuff that had been going on with them. And I felt so angry, like they’re dragging me into their messy lives and family issues.
‘Fine,’ I said, ‘let’s do the DNA test. I’m sure it’s going to be negative anyway.’
We got up to leave school and Dr De Bruyn gave me a hug. Until then, I had been in shock, and quite calm, I think, but now I started crying. In my heart I knew my life is probably never going to be the same, whatever the results may be. Here I’m alone with strangers; my mom is not here, my daddy’s not here, my brother, my cousins – nobody’s here. I’m alone. And angry! I want to go home, to my parents! I want to ask them: ‘Why is this happening? What is happening?’ It was all too much. I even asked, ‘Don’t you need my parents’ permission for this DNA test?’ but they told me that parents don’t need to give consent for a DNA test from, I think, it’s twelve years old. I was seventeen. If I wanted to take the DNA test, I was old enough to decide for myself.
We drove to the Victoria Clinic. We passed the place where my boyfriend was working and I wished we could just stop right there so I could go to him. I needed someone on my side. I just kept telling myself that this test is going to be negative, man. It can’t be true that I belong to someone else, it doesn’t make sense. The test will turn out negative. I just held onto that.
At the clinic, they took me to a room and I had to fill in a bunch of forms. Then they did a saliva test and they sent it away in a yellow and blue box.
‘Can I go home now?’ I asked. ‘Or can I go back to school?’
They said, ‘We can’t do that.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because we don’t yet know the result of the test. If you are Zephany Nurse, then your mom – or whoever took you – might be a flight risk. We can’t let you go home until we know.’
‘But when will we know the results?’
‘In a day or two.’
My heart sank. When would I go home?
‘For now, we’re taking you to a Safe House. You’ll