Blindside. Wilna Adriaanse
like you can remove the word from the dictionary.”
“I know I’m not in a position to talk, but try not to be so angry. It won’t help. He of all people understood the risks of the job.”
“I know, but being angry gives me something to do.”
“What do you mean?”
“The alternative is to live with this gaping hole inside me, and I can’t do that right now.”
“If you want to be angry at something or someone, I have a few suggestions. From affirmative action appointments who are promoted far beyond their capabilities, to our fucked-up legal system. Or our own department, that’s got no idea what’s going on in its own backyard. And everything in between. It’s a long list.”
“Will you tell me if you hear anything?”
“About?”
“My dad.”
He gave her a brief glance. “Depends.”
She sat in silence, gazing at the other vehicles on the road. The traffic on the N1 was heavy and the going was slow.
Clive changed the subject. “I remember when I was a child there were two peak hours every day. Now it’s peak-hour traffic all day long. It’s ridiculous. Don’t people work any more?”
“There’s probably a laptop and a smartphone in every car. We are the most well-connected people in the history of the world.”
“If you ask me, we’re too well connected. Ansie and I went to Struisbaai last weekend. The first time in almost a year. I wanted to do a bit of fishing and enjoy the silence. True as Bob, she was on her cellphone all weekend. If it wasn’t her mom, it was her sister or a friend. And when she finished with them, she called the kids to find out if they were okay. They were only too glad to be on their own for a day or two, but no, she had to be on their case.”
“It must be hard to raise children today.”
“The older I get, the worse I sleep, especially when I think about my daughter. Still, you have to get out of the kids’ hair now and again. And it’s not like we left them on their own. They stayed with friends. It’s good for kids to get a look at other families sometimes. They think their own home is the worst and their parents are the cruellest. After a weekend of being on their best behaviour, making their own beds and helping with the dishes, they’re grateful for a while.”
Ellie smiled. “Did you manage to enjoy the weekend in the end?”
“I pried her away from the phone for long enough on Saturday night for a bit of a cuddle.”
She laughed and looked at him. His blond hair was thinning. There was a bulge over his belt that hadn’t been there before and when they’d had to go for their mandatory fitness exercises he’d griped for a few days in advance. Clive was one of the few people she would trust with her life.
Under the flyovers in the city centre they turned left into Christiaan Barnard and continued to Sir Lowry Road.
Ellie pointed to the right. “He’s waiting at the Eastern Food Bazaar.”
He turned. “Really! Gone are the days when they were happy with half a loaf and a packet of red viennas.”
They found Happy at a table in the Turkish section. He smiled when he saw them.
“Aweh! Nice of you to come.” He held up a fist and Ellie pressed her own against it. Clive ignored the greeting.
“What’s with him? Looks like he’s got heartburn.” Happy looked towards Clive. “Cherry giving you grief?”
“Enough with the wisecracks. What have you got for us?” Clive sat down facing Happy and Ellie.
“Eish, what’s going on? Must I sit here and talk on an empty stomach?”
“What do you want?” Ellie got up. “Keep talking. I’ll order.”
“To start with, a schwarma …”
“This isn’t a dinner date. No starters. What are you drinking?” Clive said.
“Hey, bra, you’re difficult today. Make it a Coke.”
She looked at Clive but he shook his head.
When she returned to the table a few minutes later with Happy’s food, he and Clive were in the middle of an argument.
“You don’t understand how dangerous this job is. If they find out I’m talking to the Boers, I’d be lucky if they only cut my throat.”
Clive took the food from Ellie and got to his feet. “Come, he’s got nothing.”
“Speak to the man. I was just warming up.”
Clive sat back down. “Warm up faster. We don’t have all day.”
Happy cast a longing look at the food, but Clive shook his head. “First, we talk.”
“Last Friday I was at my auntie’s pozzy in the Hill when I saw a guy who was at school with me. Hangs out with my cousin these days. Fancy, even drives a car. He must have bought the licence – he wasn’t too bright at school. Anyway, he tells me he’s working for Mr Williams himself. The problem is once you start showing off, you can’t keep your mouth shut any more. I acted dumb and he took the floor. As an encore he spoke about the big move they’re pulling. His eyes went all glassy and I could see the dollar signs.”
“What move?”
“Nei, he was a bit smarter than that. He didn’t say.”
Clive began to get up, the food still in his hand. “You’re wasting our time.”
Happy looked at Ellie. “Every little bit is important, you said. Now you’re being nasty. It’s not fair.”
Ellie took the food from Clive and put it in front of Happy. “What do you know about the shooting at Milnerton?
“Only what the papers said. I don’t hang around there.”
“I know, but you know a lot of people. Someone might have said something.”
Happy chewed in silence for a while, then shook his head. “You know I don’t love that Russian and his rubbish. They’re a bunch of mother—”
Clive aimed a blow at him. “Watch your tongue.”
“What I mean is, I stay far away from them. They’re a scary bunch.”
“It can’t do any harm to talk to your contacts. I’m sure someone knows something.” Ellie rose to her feet. “Call me when you’ve got something.”
“I will, but come alone next time.” He ducked when Clive got up as well.
“Do you believe him?” Clive asked when they got into the car.
“I know he’s dead scared of the Russians, so I believe him when he says he stays away from them.”
“That doesn’t mean he hasn’t heard anything. He has a lot of contacts. These guys who sell the papers, they see and hear things. They act dumb when it suits them.”
“He’s got a big mouth, but he’s never lied to me. I’ve always been able to depend on him. He may not bring me answers immediately, but you know as well as I do that from the bits and pieces we often get the full picture.”
“Yes, I know. I just didn’t feel like taking his shit today.”
“I don’t think the guy who works for Williams was clever enough not to give details. The truth may be that he doesn’t know. Those people are too clever to allow every foot soldier to know the full story. In my experience, they work on a need-to-know basis.”
“Talk to me,” Clive said when they had driven a few kilometres without Ellie saying anything more. “Tell how your mind’s