Blindside. Wilna Adriaanse

Blindside - Wilna Adriaanse


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how things work these days. If he’s not careful, I’ll take over the business, with or without his permission.”

      Nick nodded and got to his feet. “I suppose you could.” He picked up the car keys. “He’s old, Enzio. Grant him a few peaceful years. He doesn’t have the energy and passion any more, but don’t underestimate him. There’s nothing wrong with his mind, so don’t try to hide things from him.”

      “That’s one of the reasons why I should take over. He doesn’t have the balls any more. If we’re not careful, we’ll lose our share in the business and no one will take us seriously.”

      “He worked hard and took a lot of risks to make sure you and Gabi wouldn’t have to look over your shoulders one day. Why don’t you just thank him and make a success of the club? You’re right when you say times have changed. There are new players, and very little loyalty. Do you really think you’re a match for guys like Barkov?” Nick took a few steps back and watched as his words hit the right spot. With Enzio, it was just too easy sometimes.

      Allegretti pointed at Nick. “You think I’m scared of a pig like Barkov? You think I need to hide behind my father? Fuck you. And you can tell him that.”

      Nick raised his hands. “I’ll see you later. I just wanted to come by and say hello.”

      “If you’re staying in the apartment, you’re not here for just a day or two,” Allegretti said, calmer now.

      Nick shrugged. “I’m not sure yet.”

      “Come to the club tonight.”

      “I will.”

      “For your information … she didn’t know who I was when she met me.”

      “But you knew who she was.”

      “Not straight away.”

      Minutes later Nick was driving slowly down the steep streets, looking at the fishing boats bobbing behind the breakers.

      He had never had an easy relationship with Cape Town. His first wife had been from the Cape and had never allowed him to forget it. As if somehow it was a get-out-of-jail-free card. And the few times they had visited her family had not improved his relationship with the city. He wasn’t sure whether the problem had been her family or the place.

      He had always been able to find his way around a town or city reasonably quickly. Find out who’s who, and recognise the patterns behind the various connections. But Cape Town was like a skilled illusionist who let you see only what she wanted you to see.

      He’d felt the same about his ex-in-laws. That they weren’t what they pretended to be. But that could just have been his innate cynicism and wariness.

      The three years in London were exciting, interesting and educational, but Nick had been relieved to return to Johannesburg. It was a place he understood. It was where he was born and had experienced more or less every first in his life. First tooth, first hiding, first make-out session, first car, first job and everything in between.

      He had never spent more than three weeks in Cape Town before. This time he had two bags. One filled with clothes and the other with books: the sum total of his possessions at present. When he moved back to Joburg two years ago he promised himself he would get a few things together, even if he lived in a furnished flat. A painting, perhaps. Or a rug. A chair would be good. One that moulded to the shape of his body. But after all this time, it was still just him and the strange furniture. Even the bed he kicked his shoes under at night wasn’t his own.

      His second wife had been a nurse. He’d met her at a hospital in London where he’d gone to speak to a witness. She was a good, kind person who reminded him of his mother. With her, everything was exactly the way it seemed. No surprises. But that didn’t work out either. Just like the few relationships since. He reminded himself regularly that only a madman did the same thing over and over and kept expecting a different outcome.

      CHAPTER 5

      There were new security guards at the door when Nick arrived at the club in Green Point at ten that night, but one of the old ones recognised him and let him in. It was jam-packed inside and he had to fight his way through the crowd. The music was thumping. Three DJs took turns to chat, joke, play music. When Nick finally reached the staircase, he saw Allegretti wave from the private balcony where he was entertaining his guests. Nick recognised one of the girls as Clara Veldman. She was even more beautiful in real life than in her photos, and considerably younger than the other women at the table. Women who had had probably all shared Allegretti’s bed.

      Nick was sure he had read about one of the men in the papers. It took a while to remember the context. He was a senior official at the Department of Home Affairs, and there’d been rumours about him, but so far no one had been able to pin anything on him.

      “Nick, my man, I thought you weren’t coming any more.” Allegretti motioned at a chair. “Make yourself at home, you’re way behind.”

      Nick sat down and was introduced to the rest of the guests. Here and there someone shook his hand but most just nodded. Except Clara. She looked him in the eye, put out her hand and smiled.

      “Nice to meet you.”

      Nick smiled politely, though he felt inclined to raise his head and sniff the air. He could smell trouble. He wasn’t sure which direction it was coming from, but trouble was brewing, or his name wasn’t Niklaas Joachim Malherbe.

      She looked no older than twenty-three. Her beauty was flawless. He hoped she was stronger than she looked.

      He didn’t really know how to reply to her greeting. “Now I understand why we’re seeing less and less of Enzio in Joburg,” he said.

      Her smile made her look even younger. She kissed Allegretti’s cheek. “I’m happy to hear it.”

      Allegretti’s eyes were unnaturally bright and Nick suppressed the impulse to ask whether she knew what she was letting herself in for. There was a good chance that she did. It wasn’t as if he knew any girls her age any more. And if your uncle was Nazeem Williams, you were probably not a babe in the woods.

      A waiter appeared and Nick ordered a whisky.

      “Bring him some of the Macallan from my office,” Allegretti said, “and three bottles of Bollinger.”

      When the waiter turned to go, Allegretti looked at Nick. “What do you think?”

      “I’m impressed. The place has transformed since I was here last.”

      “You and the old man didn’t think I could do it, but I told you I’d turn this place around. Ask anyone. They’ll tell you it’s the hottest spot in Cape Town.”

      “Your father will be proud.”

      The waiter brought their order, and when Nick took the first sip he had to stop himself from giving a contented sigh. This job did have its advantages. He was going to miss them.

      “Nick Malherbe!”

      Nick very nearly spilled whisky all over himself. He got to his feet and turned around.

      “Hello, Gabi.”

      She took a step back. “Hello, Gabi! I don’t hear from you for months and all you can say is ‘Hello, Gabi’.” She came up to him, put her hands on either side of his face and drew him closer. As she kissed him, her hands slid round his neck and she pressed her body against him. Then she stepped back and smiled. “That’s better.” She slapped his arm. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

      “It was a snap decision. No time to let anyone know.”

      “Bullshit. We live in the twenty-first century. You could have sent a message. You know I like to look my best for you.”

      “If I were you I wouldn’t get too excited. Wait till you hear why he’s here,” Allegretti interrupted.

      Without so much as a glance at


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