Clare Houston - An Unquiet Place

Moses had been sitting quietly, listening intently, and now he cleared his throat. ‘I understand your concerns, comrade.’ Hannah’s heart plummeted. ‘I came here today to hear you out. I have been the mayor of Leliehoek for a long time now. I know this town.’ He looked at Hannah becoming smaller and smaller in her chair. ‘Comrade, your concerns sound noble, but I think Leliehoek can handle this fine.’

‘What?’ Todd sat forward in surprise, opening his mouth to disagree, but Moses held his hand up.

‘Since you called me last night, I’ve done some phoning around myself. This community has long since grasped difference, like a stinging nettle, you know? We’ve got used to the sting now. If nothing else, the exposure and tourism potential of this dig could be good for us. I do have connections with SAHRA, but, Hannah, I think I might lend my support to this dig, rather than my opposition.’

Todd drew a sharp breath and was about to launch forth another time, but Moses held his hand up again. ‘And I also know the ANC. I have been a member since I was eighteen, before 1994. Believe me, I know about tensions and divides.’ He paused for a moment, and then said gently to Todd, ‘Look to your own position in the ANC, comrade. If there is any threat at all, it would be for you, not for the party or the country for that matter.’

Moses pushed his chair out and Hannah saw him to the door, where he shook her hand and thanked her for the meeting. When she returned, Todd was sitting slumped in his chair and Hannah felt a moment’s pity for him. He had spent years building his political reputation; it would be unfortunate if it came crashing down around him. But then, Todd was a politician through and through. She doubted whether he would stay down for long. She couldn’t imagine his allegiance to the ANC was based on anything more than convenience. If things were to sour there, he would no doubt find a place in another party, no matter how ideologically different the alternative might be.

He looked up and she cringed at the malice in his eyes. Before he could say anything, the shop phone rang, and Hannah jumped to escape and answer it, relieved Barbara was busy with a customer.

‘Leliehoek Books.’ There was silence on the other end. ‘Hello?’

Nothing.

She put the phone down and, as she moved back to the reading room, the phone in her house began to ring. She darted down the passage to answer it. ‘Hello?’

Nothing.

Hannah replaced the receiver slowly and returned to the shop. Just as she pulled the passage door closed behind her, the shop phone began to ring again. She heard Barbara answer it: ‘Leliehoek Books. Hello? Hello?’

Hannah walked through to Barbara, took the receiver from her, and, putting her finger on her lips, placed the receiver on the desk without hanging up. Whoever was doing this could damn well pay for a long call. If she didn’t hang up, then the caller couldn’t call out again. Walking back through to the house, Hannah also took her home phone off the hook.

By the time she got back to the reading room, Todd was standing at the window. ‘Even the phones don’t work in this shithole.’

‘Todd, I’ve got work to do. It’s better if you go.’

‘I’m waiting for you to pack up and come back to Cape Town. I’ll sit here all week until you do.’ The stubborn set of his jaw made him look petulant. ‘You know I’m right. You know that you’re not cut out for this dump – you’re a city girl. You’ll never cope out here once the novelty wears off. You belong in Cape Town. The galleries, the restaurants, the wine estates, the parties. You love it there!’

‘No,’ said Hannah quietly, ‘you love it there. You’ve never asked if I do.’

‘Stop being so fucking melodramatic – your friends are there, Hannah, and most importantly, your work!’

‘Actually, my friends are here and my work is here.’

‘Work? In this crappy little shop? When you could be lecturing at UCT? You’ve got to be fucking joking.’

‘I’m happy here, Todd,’ she said softly.

‘No, you’re not.’

He wasn’t listening and she gave up.

‘I’ve got an errand to run.’ Backing out the room, she stuck her head into the shop. ‘I have to get out of here,’ she whispered to Barbara, who clearly had been straining her ears to catch every word. ‘Ignore him.’ Hannah indicated with her head to the reading room. ‘Hopefully he’ll go away.’

Barbara rolled her eyes. ‘At least get me something from Kathryn’s as compensation.’

Hannah crossed the square to Kathryn’s and found Douglas sitting at the counter, sipping hot chocolate. He was dressed in a formal black shirt, a white collar at his throat.

‘You look very sombre this morning, Hannah,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Perhaps you should’ve taken the funeral instead of me.’

‘A funeral? Oh, sorry, Douglas, that must’ve been hard for you.’

‘Not at all,’ he said, grinning. ‘She was ninety-seven in the shade and had been on her deathbed at least seven times in the last year. The family was getting fed up with racing from all over the country to say goodbye, only for the old duck to make a miraculous recovery. She had them exactly where she wanted them! Marvellous old bird.’

Hannah smiled at him, envying his buoyancy.

Kathryn came through from the back. ‘Hannah, can I get you something?’

‘Um, yes, something to take back to Barbara. I left her with Todd.’

Kathryn’s eyes widened. ‘Todd’s here?’

‘Who’s Todd?’ said Douglas.

‘Hannah’s ex-fiancé from Cape Town.’ She turned back to Hannah. ‘What does he want?’

‘He wants me to go back with him. He wants me away from the dig – says it will ruin his political career with the ANC.’

‘Do you care?’ said Douglas, watching Hannah carefully.

‘I don’t care for him any more. And he feels nothing for me. No doubt his supermodel girlfriend is waiting for him at home. It’s all about his position on the ladder. I gather being a white man in a predominantly black party is tenuous. Any threat could topple him.’

‘Especially old Afrikaner history?’ said Kathryn.

‘It’s made him rather ugly.’

‘Tell him to bugger off,’ said Kathryn, busying herself with packing shiny apple Danishes into a pink cardboard box for Barbara.

‘I want to.’ Hannah perched on a stool pulled up to the counter, resting her head in her hands. ‘Something about him always paralysed me. It still does, even now that everything is over. He turns me into this little girl who takes instructions. I can’t bear it.’

‘Is he a churchgoer?’ said Douglas.

‘No. He can’t handle any power higher than himself.’

‘That says a lot,’ said Douglas, standing. ‘Would you like me to help get rid of him?’

‘Shouldn’t I be doing it myself? I’m so pathetic.’

‘Hey!’ Heat flared in Kathryn’s eyes. ‘This is what he does to you. Makes you feel pathetic, and you are not! You need him gone. Out of your life. It doesn’t matter how.’ She reached across the counter to grip Hannah’s arm. ‘What’s that proverb, Douglas? Like a dog returns to its vomit, so a fool returns to his foolishness.’

‘That’s disgusting,’ said Hannah. ‘It’s in the Bible?’

Douglas grinned at her wide eyes. ‘Kathryn’s right. This man is toxic. Let’s get him away from you so you don’t have to revert to being someone you despise. Feeling compelled to eat your own vomit.’

‘Sies, man, you two,’ said Hannah, but she already felt lighter.

Douglas pulled Hannah off her stool. ‘Kathryn, you got a knobkierie? An axe? How about a butcher knife? No? Oh well.’ And then, crowing in his favourite Southern accent, ‘We’ll just have to lean on the power of the Almighty!’