Eva Mazza - Sex, Lies & Stellenbosch

Myron leaned back as if to take Claudia in better. He wiped his mouth on his serviette then crumpled it into a ball. “Ah, you are Leonard’s partner. I have heard only good things about you.”

“Well, isn’t that uncanny? What a damn tiny place this world is!” Claudia turned to Jen. “Myron and Leonard are business associates and often cycle together. Is this your table?” Claudia asked Myron. “Because it seems you have company.” She smiled at Jen. “Did you just steal Myron’s table?” Jen shrugged back at her friend, beaming.

“Yes, it is...it was. But I have to go. It was lovely meeting you, Claudia. And Jen, it was great to see you after all these years.” He got up from his stool. “Maybe we can do coffee and a proper catch-up sometime. If you’re okay with it; if it’s not inappropriate.”

“I’m sure she’d love to,” Claudia answered for her.

“What’s your number?” Jen asked. “I’ll quickly dial you and then you can save it on your phone.”

Myron gave her his number, and when Jen dialled it, he answered clownishly, “Hello. Maybe I’ll see you again soon.”

He gave her two strong pecks on each cheek and one on the lips, “For good measure. It was lovely to see you after so many years, Jen.”

As they watched him walk away, Claudia commented, “Wow! You really showed restraint there. No ‘I’ll have to think about it’, just a quick ‘give me your number’. You’re a skank, Jen Pearce.”

Jen blushed. “Oh no, is that how I came across? That wasn’t my intention,” she said as she saved Myron’s number to her contacts.

Claudia teased, “You’re such a bad liar. Speaking about lies and truths, how has your consultation been? Have you warmed to Sharon or does she scare you?”

Jen recounted her morning with Sharon and how she had been ready to walk out, but that there had been a breakthrough moment. She also told her that her appointment with Leonard had been rescheduled, as Sharon needed more time with her.

“I know. Listen, Jen, Leonard asked me to give you this envelope.” She reached down into her lawyer’s bag to retrieve a brown envelope. “It arrived at his offices. He doesn’t know who sent it,” she said as she handed it to Jen. “He was hoping to give it to you at your consultation with him today, but you’d postponed. He thinks that maybe you should take a look at it today, with Sharon around.”

Intrigued, Jen was about to open the envelope when Claudia stopped her. “No, don’t do it now. I don’t know what’s in it and neither do you.”

Claudia scoffed down her sandwich, gave Jen a peck on the cheek and told her to call her after her session. She had to run as she was appearing in court.

Jen was deep in thought as she finished her lunch, wondering what the envelope contained. Whatever it was, it was sandwiched between two hard boards, and she couldn’t resist peeking. She opened the seal and separated the two cards, gingerly pulling out a photograph. It was of John kissing a stranger◦– a French kiss, for want of a better word. His tongue was deep in a woman’s mouth and his hip pushed up against her groin. She slid it back inside the envelope and sealed it again. Her anger and shock dissipated as quickly as it had surfaced, and she grinned. Got you, you bastard! She was triumphant.

Two men approached her table and asked whether she minded them joining her. “Not at all, I’m just about done. Go ahead.”

“We were hoping that you’d stay.” Are they flirting, she wondered, or just being polite?

“That’s sweet,” she smiled, “but I have to go. Enjoy your afternoon.”

One of the men looked down at her cleavage and instinctively Jen held the envelope over her chest.

“Stay. We’d love to get to know you better,” the one man said as he gently touched her wrist.

Okay, she was being hit on (a phrase she had learnt from Pete). She rose to the occasion: “Well, boys, as much as I’d love to stay and chat,” she lowered the envelope and thrust out her chest as if to say look and weep , “I have to wrap my head around the fact that my husband is an adulterous prick.” The stranger jerked back his hand. She smiled, grabbed her bag and walked out of the shop. She began to laugh. Well if I don’t laugh, I’ll be suicidal, and John Pearce will never have that kind of a hold on me, ever.

Clutching her evidence tightly against her chest, Jen pressed the button for the lift to the fourteenth floor of Sharon’s building. She had misjudged the distance to the sandwich shop and certainly wasn’t going to walk up fourteen flights of stairs. She felt relief. It was empowering to finally know, to have proof, that her husband was a fraud. She had spent twenty-four years admonishing herself for her doubts about him. All those years breastfeeding, rearing and running around her children. Now, for the first time, she had emerged from this haze, and the clarity with which she saw things made her brave and decisive, even excited, to change the course of her life.

Patty had fallen asleep on the couch. Her phone beeped and she woke with a start. It was morning and Lee had not yet arrived. She checked the message that had come through. It was from John. “I should have the money in my account by tomorrow the latest. Text me the account number. John”

She sent him the account details and checked her phone again for any missed calls. Nothing. Lee would have called her if he had changed his mind. She chided herself for having fallen asleep. Anyway, Lee was Lee. He came and went as he pleased. Who was she to question him or to worry about him? She would shower. It was no use, her sitting around waiting.

After her shower, Patty checked her phone again, and again it yielded nothing. She knew he hated her fussing after him, but she was overcome with worry. It rang and then went to voicemail. By ten o’clock she could stand it no more. Usually he would check in with her by nine the latest. Bugger it, I know I’m not his wife or mother but… She phoned security at his work. “No, he hasn’t come in today.” She could try his house phone, but that would prove disastrous and Lee would be furious, so she dialled the police.

“Has anyone reported an accident involving a Ferrari, or has anyone driving a Ferrari been arrested?” It wouldn’t be the first time he had been thrown into jail for speeding. Her call was placed on hold, and after what seemed an eternity, the officer was back on the line.

“Ma’am,” he asked, “are you a relative of the deceased?” It took a while for her to process what she had just heard, but when she did, she grabbed the dining room table for support.

“What!”

The detective repeated himself. “I need to know your relationship with the deceased.”

Her rapid breath made her practically inaudible. “Is. Lee. Dead?”

“I’m sorry, Ma’am, I can’t disclose that until you tell me your relationship.”

She knew Lee would laugh his head off when she retold this story to him. “You’ve just told me he’s deceased , you moron. You do know that deceased and dead are the same fucking thing?” Patty dropped the phone and fell to her knees. She opened her mouth to howl, but she was mute. Her world fell apart.

Frans had texted John that the money would be in his account by close of day, and if not, by Thursday the latest. John hoped that Patty would have payment sooner rather than later◦– that he’d be able to put this debacle to bed, no matter how costly.

He had woken up early that morning, knowing full well that he had to replace at least one person in sales. He raced up to the cellar, ready to face the day. He figured that good-looking sales reps were a dime a dozen. You’ve got to admit, you’ve been blinded by Patty. You’ll find someone easily. He wasn’t so sure whether Jen would approve of another babe near him, but he had to convince her that girls like Patty sold products. The business had to maintain the level of sales that Patty had obtained.