Eva Mazza - Sex, Lies & Stellenbosch

“Oh, good. At least there was someone you could talk to.”

“Only, she used me as a cover.” Claudia frowned. “She’s been having this affair with a married man for a while now and she lied to Lee, her husband. She said she was spending the night with me at the lodge.”

“Oh, that’s a bit tricky, and insensitive. Sorry, Jen, I don’t know the understanding you have with her. Does she normally use you as an alibi?”

“I wouldn’t know. I only found out about this convenient cover-up because I couldn’t get her on her cellphone and I was so desperate, I called her house. Lee answered.” As she spoke, she realised again the potential trouble she had caused for her best friend.

“Oh my God, I know where this is going!” Claudia said. “So, what happened?”

“I made up some rubbish that I had stipulated I wanted to be alone, and that I had just woken up after taking a sleeping tablet. I told him that it could be possible that Frankie had checked in to her own lodge.”

Claudia winced. She took a sip of her orange juice and picked at her fruit salad. “How do you feel about being used in this way?”

“Well, I’m angry! I was feeling this surge of emotion and I needed to speak to my best friend, and she wasn’t there for me. For the first time since yesterday morning, I had allowed myself to really feel; and as overwhelming as those emotions were, I had to quell them because I was worrying about Frankie! I hate that she used me, and I hate that I lied to her husband. I don’t want to be complicit in her affair.”

Claudia was about to speak, but Jen continued with more gusto, “In fact, I feel incredibly angry that she didn’t spend time with me. Instead, she used me and my situation◦– my pain◦– for her own pleasure!”

“Not good,” Claudia said. “I do think that you need to have it out with her. Feelings of anger are starting to surface, which is a good thing, but I think that as much as Frankie’s behaviour is unacceptable, your anger is misdirected. Start directing it at the person who really deceived you.”

Jen agreed, and told her about the things that she had only recently heard about John. In the past, there were nasty whisperings, but Jen had chosen to ignore them. “I have been so focused on my kids and on playing the good housewife that I didn’t have time for gossip.”

“Is there a lot of gossiping?”

Jen laughed. “Stellenbosch is full of gossips and I grew up with them. My mom had a deceitful husband◦– my father◦– and I’ve learned to ignore people and what they say. I believed that all that mattered was my trust in John. And there has never been any concrete evidence to prove these rumours, until now.”

“What about divorce?” Claudia asked. “Is this an option?”

“I’m not sure. I mentioned divorce to Frankie and she said it was ridiculous to even entertain that thought.”

Claudia laughed. “Well, that’s coming directly from the adulterer’s mouth!”

Jen smiled. “Putting that aside, she has a point. Who’s going to want me on the brink of menopause? John would move on. Successful men his age will always be sought after, and I’d be a bitter divorcée◦– lonely and desperate.”

Claudia sprayed sunblock on her face. “Perhaps, but it’s not about whether he’s going to find someone else; it’s whether you want to stay in your marriage? Can you stay married to John? Is this what you want?”

Jen burst into tears. “All my married life I’ve heard: ‘You’ve nowhere else to go,’ and it’s true. All my inheritance is tied up in the farm. When we first married, I sold my land and ploughed the money into John’s◦– our! ◦– farm. The rest of my inheritance is kept in a joint bank account. It might seem short sighted, but at the time, it was the right thing to do. I never married to get divorced. This was a union for life. It was expected of me. It’s what I wanted to do.”

“And how are you married?” Claudia asked.

“Community of property. There’s no way we can halve what we have. And it would mean having to sell the farm. I’d be doing Brigit and Pete a huge disservice.”

“As much as you want your children to hold the institution of marriage in high regard, what kind of message will you give them by staying married because you’ve ‘nowhere to go’? Goodness knows, Jen, one is a woman. What is she learning about women and choices from you? And Pete? He needs to learn that women are strong. You are, after all, their role model.”

Jen hadn’t ever looked at it from this angle. If she had to consider how she had conducted herself over the years, she really hadn’t shown her children how to be strong. Although, to be fair, she had shown resilience, and she had shown that marriage needed compromise and commitment. With hindsight, it seemed as if she had been the only one who had done the compromising, although John had always shown commitment. Until now. Jen took a long sip from her cocktail. It was clear this was not going to be easy, whatever she decided to do.

“Look, Jen, I’m serious when I say that Leonard knows a thing or two about divorce and that he’ll make sure you get what you deserve. I know it’s not in your children’s interests for you to cripple John financially, and I don’t think you’ll feel vindicated by this, but I do think that if you are going to leave him, you need to do so with a settlement that you’re entitled to. For years you’ve believed that you’ve added nothing to your husband’s business, yet you’ve contributed vast amounts of money to the farm. And let’s not forget that being a mother is priceless. What’s worse is that it seems he hasn’t even acknowledged this.”

Jen lay back on her deck chair. “No, he has! He has, Claudia. He’s always told me he loves me. He’s been a good husband and father.” She lifted her head to the sun and let the warm rays soak into her skin, as if they would somehow imbue her with strength. “I know it sounds like I’m defending him.”

“Do you have any money, Jen?” Claudia asked. “The initial cost of going to a good lawyer is huge, but if you do decide to divorce you can claim costs from John.”

Jen thought about it. Actually, she did have some money stashed away like a miser in her bottom shoe drawer.

“I do,” she said. “I have about fifty thousand in cash. Is this enough?”

“God girl, more than enough! What did you do, rob a bank?”

Jen laughed. She told Claudia about John’s poker nights and she felt a resurgence of warmth towards him when she relayed how generous he had been, and still is, by giving her his winnings. Claudia frowned and asked Jen about the seemingly innocent boys’ night out.

“Well, it started off at a men’s-only drinking spot in Stellenbosch and then they became more serious about the game. For about the past two years they’ve been going to Cape Town to a poker club. I know they’re spending a fortune there, and I think that’s why John gives me his winnings; he feels guilty about his indulgence. He said it’s insanely overpriced but he’s part of the group. It’s the way things have always worked with his friends.”

Claudia’s frown deepened. “Do you know the poker club’s name? Have you seen any credit card statements?”

“Yes, it’s called something like Boys’ Gaming or Boys’ Games. Not sure. Why?”

“Jesus, Jen. Your husband and his friends have been going to an upmarket brothel.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Jen, there are high-class, highly paid prostitutes strutting their stuff there. The ‘gentlemen’ play all sorts of card games, yes, but there’s a sexual twist to the games. What’s more, whatever the sexual fantasy, within reason, will be played out for the client, at a fee, of course.”