Eva Mazza - Sex, Lies & Stellenbosch

“We have so many fond memories of Lee that we will treasure. He was too young to be taken away from us, and so tragically. He has left an indelible mark on everyone who knew him. A kinder, more compassionate and generous man, you’d struggle to find. You will be forever missed, bud. Cheers, and keep a place up there for all of us.”

If I didn’t know what John has been up to, I would be moved. Jen was starting to believe that she was married to a sociopath. How else does he manage to stand up there without flinching?

She felt deeply sorry for Clive when it was his turn to speak. From what she could see, he’d managed to hold himself together until that moment. She could tell from his shaking shoulders that he was sobbing. The mourners waited for him to compose himself before he spoke.

“My dad is my hero. He has been my mentor ever since I can remember. He was there when I took my first steps and he was there to help me ride my bike. He was a father who instilled so many values in me. He taught me kindness. He said it was easy to humiliate those who were supposedly socially inferior, but all this showed, he said, was ill breeding. My dad said there was plenty to be learned from every human being, no matter their status, sex, religion or age.”

He took a deep, juddering breath.

“He practised what he preached. He acknowledged the people who showed commitment to their work. Boss Sarel Jenkins is a fine example of a man who started as a labourer, but who worked himself up to farm manager.” The congregation turned to search out Boss Sarel, who looked down at his hands. “He has often said that he was lucky to have worked for my father, as he doubted whether he would’ve been given the same opportunities elsewhere.” The labourers and Sarel nodded in agreement.

“My dad saw the diamond in my mom. He saw her beauty and he saw her strength and he defied everyone and married her.” It was at this point that Jen heard the devastating gasp and cries from Frankie. Her friends placed loving arms around her, and Jen herself wished that she could do the same. If only. But she checked herself. “He was always in awe of her,” Clive continued with a gentle smile. “My dad loved life. I am happy that he has left this world having done just about everything he dreamed of doing, from running one of the top wine farms in our area, to travelling extensively, to buying his dream car. He loved fast cars and to own a Ferrari was his ultimate dream.”

The congregation acceded with whispers and nods.

“I will always love him. I will always remember him. And I will always aspire to be like him.

“Rest in peace, Dad. I feel blessed that you are still a part of us when I see those barrels of wine and when I drink our famous Cabernet.”

Frankie’s quiet sobs accompanied her son’s words.

“I would like to end off by playing a song that meant so much to my parents. My mother has asked me to thank you, on her behalf, for your love and support over this trying time.”

As the song began, Jen rushed out of the hall. She had come to pay her last respects, and this had been accomplished without too much discomfort. She ran through the foyer and straight into the book club girls, who were preparing tea and eats for the mourners.

“Jen!” Shelley enthused unconvincingly. “You’re here. How are you?”

“Hi, everyone,” Jen said uncomfortably. “Terrible tragedy, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Patricia agreed. “Such a tragic thing to happen.”

“What’s also pretty tragic,” Shelley interrupted, “is your absence. Could you not find it in your heart to reach out to your friend?”

Anne added her two cents’ worth. “No matter what you’re going through, which quite frankly we think is a whole load of shit, the least you could do◦– the right thing to do◦– would be to put your angst aside, not only for Lee’s memory, but for Frankie, your supposed best friend.”

“You’re right,” Jen said. “It is absolutely unforgivable, at face value. But honestly, ladies, having known me for so long, do you really think I’d stay away unless something very serious had happened?”

They were silent. Patricia stopped arranging the cocktail sandwiches and Anne raised her eyebrows. They loved a good story and it seemed they were going to get the scandal they craved.

“What could be so bad that you couldn’t be here for Frankie?”

Jen looked at Shelley and said, “You and I never really had a real friendship, did we? We’re friends because of our husbands. You’ve always held a grudge, because you think I stole John from you. Well, the good news, Shelley, is that I inadvertently saved you from John.”

She then turned to Anne. “As for you, Anne, it seems as if you have finally found an ‘in’ in the group, now that I’m leaving.”

“Leaving book club?” Anne asked.

“No, Anne. John.”

Their mouths dropped open at her candour.

“There, that should give you something to skinner about! God knows, your lives would be pretty dull if you didn’t have something or someone to talk about. I’m sure that you wouldn’t care to phone me. But you know my number, if you do decide to find it in your hearts to ‘reach out’.” She looked at Shelley. “To quote you, Shelley.”

Jen strode out, tears streaming down her cheeks. She had said goodbye to Lee, her friend and silent ally, and she had said goodbye to her girlfriends, who at one time had meant the world to her◦– who she had thought had made her life worthwhile.

She drove directly to the farm to collect her belongings. True to form, efficient Gladys had Jen’s suitcases packed and ready at the front door. With the help of one of the farm labourers, they loaded them into her four-wheel drive. Jen would be happy to trade in her car for a zippier model better suited to the city’s traffic. But for now, she was glad to have the boot space.

Gladys seemed to be more upset than anyone else at the idea of Jen leaving.

“I’m going to miss you, Gladys,” Jen said, hugging her. “I don’t think you realise quite what you mean to me. I would never have managed without you. You’ve always been a constant help. Thank you so much.”

Gladys hugged her back hard.

Jen pulled an envelope from her bag and gave it to Gladys with both hands. “Here’s something for you, for all that you’ve done for me.” It was filled with money, all of John’s winnings. She also handed Gladys two small boxes, each containing a gold coin.

She didn’t wait for Gladys to thank her. She didn’t want to be thanked. She wished that she could have given her so much more. And one day, she vowed, she would.

Jen drove out of town with her music blaring. Her phone’s playlist was on shuffle and the song that wafted through her speakers first was ‘Figure 8’ by Ellie Goulding. The lyrics reminded her of her passionate one-night stand with Lee.

She wondered what her life would have been like if she had married him. Until now, she had never allowed herself to entertain these thoughts. The only way to survive her marriage◦– and be happy◦– had been to block out the could-haves and the should-haves. But the song was so haunting and full of love and pathos that she allowed her mind to stray to that night.

She accelerated down the highway, listening to the song playing full blast, over and over again. The tears streaked her face. It was such a beautiful memory. Why had she been so hell-bent on trying to forget it? But then she smiled. There was no need to any more. She was free to remember and to recall every moment.

They had fallen asleep on the back of Lee’s truck, waking as the sun began to rise. Realising what she had done had filled her with such remorse she’d started crying. Lee had taken her in his arms and kissed every part of her face: her eyes, her ears, her forehead, her cheeks and finally her mouth. He whispered the exact words of the chorus of this song◦– “I need you”◦– repeatedly, trying to persuade her that what had happened between them was something special, something to be treasured.