Eva Mazza - Sex, Lies & Stellenbosch

After Pete and Grant had left, spurred on by a cocktail of anger, guilt and sadness, Frankie had managed to imbibe at least a quarter of a bottle of whisky, rendering her intoxicated. Her girlfriends, too busy clucking about like mother hens, hadn’t noticed.

Faith was the only one aware that Frankie had eaten nothing the entire day. She brought in her supper on a tray.

“Madam, you must eat. You have a long day tomorrow. Madam Shelley made her chicken pie for you, and I know you love it.”

“Faith, I can’t eat a thing,” Frankie slurred. “I just want to drink myself into a coma. Please, be a darling and pour me another,” she said as she lifted her glass to her helper.

“I think that’s enough for you, Mom. Thanks, Faith, for all your hard work today. I’m sure you could do with a rest. We’re going to need you tomorrow, that’s for sure.”

Frankie hadn’t noticed her son’s silent entry. Faith seemed reluctant to leave her side, but Frankie caught the insistent look Clive gave her, precipitating her exit.

He stretched out full length on the couch and stared at the ceiling without speaking. They were silent for a while, then he asked, “How are you doing, Mom? Are you okay?”

Frankie spat out, “Did you hear about Brigit’s inheritance? She put on a sad face, but I bet she couldn’t wait to get home to celebrate her windfall. Dad’s death is her jackpot.”

“Ya. Grant told me.”

“I’m furious,” she said.

“I’m not sure why it’s such an issue,” Clive said.

“Goddaughter, huh? She hardly spoke to her godfather. Why should she get anything? Why?”

Frankie was the most vocal she had been the whole day. She wanted Clive on her side. Maybe together they could fight this ridiculous bequest.

“Mom, don’t be like that. It’s a drop in the ocean.”

Frankie staggered to her feet. “Drop in the ocean? That apartment is worth a small fortune and lavish Lee throws it away. Fuck that! I won’t allow it.” She felt Clive’s hands on her shoulders as he gently guided her back into Lee’s chair.

“Come on, Ma. It’s what Dad wanted,” he said, slouching back onto the couch.

“What Dad wanted?” Frankie was furious. Why doesn’t he see through this bullshit!

“Dad was always a generous man, Ma. A good man. Stop it, please!”

“Lee, the saint. Let’s not forget to canonise him. This just confirms all those rumours about Brigit being his illegitimate child.”

Clive sat up abruptly.

“Now he’s got the whole fucking town talking and I look like a bloody idiot. He did this on purpose, to get back at me!” she shouted. She knew how drunk she sounded, but she went on, not allowing Clive to interrupt her. “He was like that, you know. He loved to punish me.” She looked up to the ceiling and yelled, “You’re a fucking bastard, aren’t you? You’re having a good old laugh at my expense!”

Clive jumped to his feet. “What are you saying, Mom? For God’s sake, stop it! Dad’s dead. His body isn’t even cold yet and you’re talking shit about him to me. Stop, please!”

Frankie couldn’t hide her bitterness.

“I knew he and Jen were lovers before we got married. And his parents were so desperate for him to marry the town virgin! Ha! What a laugh. Jen and the Virgin Mary, both pregnant before they married, and still, everyone believes they’re untainted.”

“Stop it!”

“She wasn’t even here to give me her condolences, to pay her respects! The bitch! But she’ll be happy for her daughter to take what rightly belongs to us, Clive.”

“Mom, stop it, please!” Clive begged.

Frankie ignored him. “She thinks I’m the bad friend because I slept with her dysfunctional husband. I did her a favour.” She burst into tears, sobbing drunkenly. “I tried to keep that asshole on the straight and narrow, so he didn’t run around with every whore in town.”

“Now you’re starting to freak me out completely! Please tell me that you’re making this all up. Please, Ma, I beg you, stop it.”

Faith walked in and put her finger to her mouth, silencing Clive. Sitting down on the arm of Frankie’s chair, she placed the weeping woman’s head against her tummy and rocked her gently from side to side. Such a soothing gesture was unfamiliar to Frankie, but she succumbed, nestling her head against the starched uniform that smelled comfortingly of cooking oil and fabric softener. She was completely spent.

“Ssh, Madam, ssh. Faith is going to take Madam to bed now. Here’s a little pill for you.”

Frankie took the sleeping tablet and swallowed it dry. Faith helped her up and walked her to her bedroom. Her helper pulled back the sheets, removed Frankie’s slippers from her feet and helped her lie down. Then she tucked her in gently and stroked her forehead.

“Madam needs to rest. Madam must just relax, please.”

Frankie felt herself dropping off to sleep before Faith had even left the room.

The only person who could help Jen sift through all this information and conflicting emotions was Sharon, who was willing to see her early that evening.

“I have to admit that your story has been the most compelling one I’ve ever been paid to listen to.”

Jen adored Sharon: her honesty, and the way she listened. It felt to her that she was more like a friend than a counsellor.

“Well, apparently, I inadvertently played a seminal part in the events that unfolded.”

“How so?” Sharon asked.

“Because I insisted that John fire Patty. He was forced to make a financial settlement. And my phone call to Lee’s house in the middle of the night asking for Frankie gave her game away. It was the evidence Lee needed to finally point to Frankie’s indiscretion.”

“It sounds to me like John needs help,” Sharon said, her eyes boring into Jen’s. “Phew. You have dealt with enough betrayal, haven’t you, Jen?” Jen nodded. The tears welled up.

John had betrayed her for years, in every possible way. If she was honest, he had never really been supportive or understanding. If she had compared John to Lee… She now knew she would have found that Lee was much more caring and supportive of Frankie than John had ever been of her. But then, Jen didn’t have much by which to measure a husband’s worth. Her parents’ marriage hadn’t been anything to go by. Her father had openly cheated on her mother. All this time, Jen had felt grateful for John◦– that he was not like her father. But little had she known. John was just better at covering his tracks.

“All I can say now is, thank goodness for Lee. He was a constant, I guess. He had my best interests at heart always, and I can never say thank you.”

She began to cry. Her cry became a howl. Lee was dead. She would never see him again.

Sharon allowed her to cry. When Jen finally stopped sobbing, Sharon said, “Jen, I know you don’t want to go to Lee’s funeral tomorrow, but I think you should. You need to mourn him, you need to pay tribute to him and you need closure. Forget about the other people who’ll be there. Focus on why you’re there. And mourn; mourn the loss of your friend.”

Jen interrupted her, “He was my guardian angel.”

“I guess he was. He was the one person who had your back, even though you rejected him all those years ago. You know now that he loved you completely.” Jen knew Sharon was right.

After her consultation with Sharon, Jen climbed behind her steering wheel and drove back to Stellenbosch, ready to face absolutely everything and everyone head on. It was dark when she finally arrived at the farm. She had made up her mind. She would attend Lee’s memorial service. She would pay tribute to the man who had a hand in unshackling her.