Being Lily. Qarnita Loxton
me off about Owen’s use of first names.
“No, I’m on my way to the Waterfront to get my hair done. I’m supposed to have a drink with Mum – I figured I’d miss the traffic then come home after.”
I waited for the pitch.
“There’s something we need to talk about. I would’ve liked to see you, but it can’t wait until you get home.” Owen is good at judging what I need, and this was a warning that he thought I needed to have this talk face to face.
“I don’t know exactly how long drinks will take. I wasn’t planning to stay long, but I think Mum has a new boyfriend and I wanted to try and get it out of her. But we can talk now, I’m just sitting here – traffic was bumper to bumper from Paarden Eiland, you’d swear it was peak-hour into town.”
Owen didn’t answer straight away. As I waited at the robot intersection to the Waterfront, I watched the guy standing there with his homemade placard begging for help to feed to his family. I know it was guilt that made me slide down the window and hand over a two hundred rand note, but I also know it was only luck that decided which side of the window each of us would be. Neither of us had done anything to deserve it.
I heard Owen breathe out over the phone. Then a big breath in. The words tumbled out loud and clear.
“All right, you remember Courtney came to see me this afternoon?” he said. As if I could forget. Di had had no extra information for me when I’d called her, except that Courtney had stayed for over an hour, leaving the other girl to stare at her phone in the reception area. “A long story but she is getting divorced – I didn’t even know she was married. Said she wanted a fresh start so she started looking around for a job in Cape Town. On Wednesday, she found out that she got a job as day-time manager at that new restaurant at the Lagoon Beach Hotel in Milnerton. The catch is that she has to start training tomorrow.” Owen’s voice filled the car, Porsche windows sealing everything else out.
“Why is she telling you?”
“Here’s the thing … Because it was such short notice, she hasn’t anywhere to stay. And she doesn’t have savings to pay rental deposit until her first paycheque comes in. She says her ex is being a bastard because of the kid.”
So, the mini-mermaid was her daughter, not her sister …
“Why you? Does she know we are getting married?”
“No, we didn’t talk about me. She says she doesn’t know anyone else in Cape Town and Ronnie told her to try me. She needs a place for her and Chiara – that’s the kid – to stay for a couple of weeks until she can get enough together for a deposit.”
I white-knuckled the leather-covered steering wheel; feeling the pitch getting closer, I could already tell it wasn’t going to be something I wanted.
“Lily, I know it’s crazy. But she says …” Owen stuttered, his voice crackling under the weight of the shopping mall as I drove into the Waterfront’s underground parking, “… she says … that her ex is going mad, he is convinced that Chiara isn’t his. The kid is almost sixteen years old and now he drags it up. He thinks –”
A dead spot. I missed some of what he said.
“Why you?” I asked again, and the guy in the lane next to me looked up at me with raised eyebrows. I must’ve been shouting as the window slid down for me to get a parking ticket.
“She was pretty upset. Lily, can you think about it, please?” The crackle turned to silence as I pulled into the parking bay. “She doesn’t have anywhere to go tonight and she doesn’t know anyone else in Cape Town. You’re only using one room for work and the other guest room is empty? I’ve started looking at the rentals listed here in the office and there will be lots coming free by the end of February. Courtney will have enough for a deposit by then.”
I took a deep breath. I knew he wouldn’t like what I was about to say. “I can pay for her to stay somewhere until the rentals are open.”
“It’s not just about the money, Lily.” Owen wasn’t giving up. I didn’t want to either. But Owen never asked for anything. “She was once very important to me and I didn’t treat her well in the end. Now with this …”
“I still don’t get why it’s you, why they have to stay at home with us.”
Owen’s words hit my brain in slo-mo: “Oh, reception must have been bad. I thought it was strange you didn’t say anything earlier. Her ex thinks I could be Chiara’s dad.”
My foot jerked off the brake pedal. Enough so that my car eased forward into the parking bay barrier. I jammed my foot back down just a little too late. It was a quick crash, a hard crunching of metal onto concrete that jerked me forward only a tiny bit.
“Hell, babe, what was that?”
“Don’t worry, I’m okay, it’s nothing. Just a little scrape in the parking garage, sounds worse than it is,” I said, my voice calmer than I felt. “It can be sorted out quickly.” But I knew that what caused the crash wouldn’t be fixed so easily. It would take much more than Owen realised.
5
The longer I sat in Lucio’s chair, staring at my reflection while he painted colour into my hair and babbled on about fat freezing (he’s doing it; apparently you can freeze your muffin off), the less sure I became that Courtney would be sorted quickly. The sensible doctor side of me knew that a simple paternity test would tell the truth in a few weeks. The side of me that needed Alzam reeled. If Owen was Chiara’s dad … that could never be sorted quickly; that would last forever.
“Are you serious about Chiara?” I’d spat little blobs of spit onto the windscreen, my heart still thudding in my chest once the car was safely switched off. I scrabbled about in my mind to remember anything about her that looked like she could be Owen’s. Nothing, just dark hair bleached blonde, but dark hair didn’t mean anything. I would check properly next time.
“Yes, don’t panic. I don’t think it’s true but there is probably a small chance it could be me because of the timing. I couldn’t get more out of Courtney. And it is also partly why I want them to stay. Just for a bit? Until we can find out the whole story, hear if the ex is mad or if it does involve me.’
“Yes.”
I was so rattled by the possibility of Owen being a dad that within approximately five seconds of finding out about it I did two things I’ve never done before: I crashed my car and said yes to a stranger and her daughter coming to live with us. With me. I wanted to drive straight back home, put up yellow Danger! Do Not Touch tape around everything, including Owen. Only the memory of the gridlocked cars trying to get out of the city stopped me. I wouldn’t get home any faster if I sat in Lucio’s chair or in my own car seat for the next hour and a half.
“You’ll be fine, darling. Just pretend you are back in digs,” Lucio flapped when he realised I wasn’t taking in all the details of the fat freezing on his stomach.
“You don’t know how I am, Lucio! I hate living with other people; other people hate living with me. My parents even hated living with me when I was growing up. People in my face all the time makes me nasty, and it’s not like I’m nice to start off with. The only people I can live with are Kari and Owen and that’s more to do with them than me. To think I was dreading Owen’s mother and sister coming to stay before the wedding, and now I’ve got his ex-girlfriend and her kid. Might be his kid. Right outside my bloody bedroom door.”
Panic. I know I’m a spoilt brat. I’ve been told it enough times. Owen laughed his head off when I told him that he was the first person I’d shared a bathroom with. Even in digs, Daddy always made sure I was the one who got the biggest room with the en suite bathroom. Mum says I’m not good at sharing anything – that’s why they never had more children. I think it’s because she never wanted children in the first place, and after me she made sure it wasn’t going to happen again. Dad wanted more, but he wasn’t the one whose body