Читать книгу Dance of the Heart - Sibusiswe Dhuwe - Страница 2

6

“You bloody mampara! What were you thinking of, taking a jump like that? You don’t even like water.”

Daniel was sitting beside Tshepo, who was propped up in his hospital bed, looking as if he had awoken from a peaceful sleep. Miraculously, apart from almost a week of unconsciousness, all he had to show for his water-skiing accident were a few cuts and bruises and a slight concussion.

“I know, and that’s the amazing thing about it. When I took that jump, I soared, gliding through the air. Everything ceased to exist and for one perfect moment it was quiet in here.” Tshepo’s fist gently beat against his chest. “And in here.” His index finger tapped against his temple. “Then, bam! I came down like something shot from the sky.”

Tshepo loved to captivate his audience, whether it was in the boardroom, the living room or simply a one-on-one conversation.

“Eish, Daniel! You look like hell. What happened to you?”

“Flu . . . And Luke Bancroft.”

Tshepo spat out an expletive. “That wolf howling at your door again? What’s wrong with the man?”

“He’s just devious. Yoh, bra, I’m glad to see you alive and kicking.”

Tshepo turned a questioning eye on his friend. “Are you telling me that the papers haven’t been finalised?”

“Well, your guys are stalling.”

Tshepo let out a string of oaths. “It was all agreed at the board meeting and I left instructions for the final papers to be drawn up and sent to you. What the hell is going on?”

The answer came to them both at the same time.

“Bancroft!”

Tshepo thoughtfully nodded his head as he put certain facts together in his mind. “Don’t you worry, bra. Leave this to me.”

* * *

Later that afternoon Daniel, Nomvula and Mpho walked over to Lerato’s house. Lerato hugged her brother and kissed Mpho, who was then passed on to her Uncle Sam. He swung her into the air with gusto. The little girl squealed in delight and squirmed with excitement when he finally caught her in his arms. She planted a wet kiss on his forehead and wriggled her little body to be let down.

Mpho promptly disappeared into the den, which erupted with cries of joyful greetings.

Lerato smiled. “That’s Palesa and Lesedi. They love it when Mpho comes to visit,” she explained, and then, to Nomvula’s surprise, she found herself enfolded in a warm hug. Apart from Mpho and occasionally Asanda, Nomvula rarely had such close physical contact with another human being, especially not since her grandmother had passed away. She realised now that it was something that she missed.

“How are you doing? I’m glad you came.” Lerato’s kind eyes smiled warmly into Nomvula’s.

“I’m fine, thanks,” Nomvula replied automatically. “Here, these are for you.” She held out a bunch of flowers that had almost got crushed a few seconds before.

“That’s so thoughtful of you.” Lerato nudged her brother. “You see, this is what you do when your sister cooks for you.”

Daniel protested, “I might as well just grow you a garden then – I’m here all the time.”

“My point exactly!” said Lerato emphatically. “Nomvula, this is my husband, Sam.”

“Nice to meet you.” Nomvula extended her hand.

Sam took it and smiled warmly. “Welcome to our house,” he said in a voice that was rich and strong. His hair was in a short, neat Afro and he sported a bushy moustache above lips that seemed to curl into a smile readily and quite frequently. Nomvula liked him immediately.

Next she met the couple’s thirteen-year-old twins. They were lovely girls who seemed to have inherited their father’s sunny temperament and their mother’s energetic enthusiasm.

Nomvula had never thought that families like this really existed. These people were kind and caring, and obviously very happy. This was what had been missing from her life for so long: this laughter, this joy, this incredible lightness of being.

They didn’t wait long for supper to be served as it was quite late in the day and everyone was starving. Nomvula didn’t have to worry about Mpho at all, because the little girl’s cousins monopolised her completely.

“They think she’s a real live doll,” said Lerato, shaking her head as she watched her daughters threading ribbons into Mpho’s neat plaits. “And the little one soaks it up. She loves the attention.”

They were all sitting in the small back yard, relaxing after their big meal and enjoying the slight breeze.

Lerato turned to Daniel. “Are you coming with us to East London this year?”

“No, too much going on at work right now. I can’t afford to leave.”

“But we can still take Mpho with us, though?” Lerato asked, and then added, “Nomvula is very welcome to come too.”

“Yes, we’d love to have you,” her husband echoed.

Nomvula felt a bit trapped. Lovely as these people were, she was still trying to settle down in her new role without being counted as part of their family already. It would be ungracious to just turn them down, so she searched for a tactful way to say she didn’t really want to go. Daniel saved her.

“By all means take Mpho with you. And of course No­mvula is free to go if she wants to, but she can also take the week off if she’d rather do that.”

Everyone looked at Nomvula.

“I’d love to come, but I think I should grab the opportunity for some personal time. But thank you very much.”

“Oh well, next time,” said Sam affably.

“Then both of you will have to come,” insisted Lerato.

“Ja, ja! We’ll see. I’m going to play,” said Daniel, and off he went to engage in some loud rough-and-tumble with the girls.

Lerato shook her head. “Just when you think they’ve finally grown up.”

Sam chuckled beside her and finished off the last of his beer. “Looks like fun. Think I’ll go join them.” He picked up a discarded soccer ball and joined Daniel and the girls.

The men made themselves a small makeshift soccer pitch and each had one twin on his team, with Mpho joining which­ever side had ball possession. Daniel managed to score against Sam and Lesedi, after which he pulled his T-shirt over his face and ran around screaming “Laduuuuuuma!” much to Mpho and Palesa’s amusement. Adorable, thought Nomvula as a smile spread from right inside her to her face.

* * *

The next day Nomvula started her dance classes after dropping Mpho off at her playgroup. The dance studio was part of a large health complex which Lerato had recommended to her. As she walked past the various rooms with their different activities, she felt a sense of anticipation.

When she finally found her class, Nomvula was surprised to see that there were quite a number of people attending.

“Hi.” A slim young woman approached her. “You’re new, aren’t you?”

Nomvula nodded and the woman continued, “I’m Thuli Matheba. I take this class every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. It’s always nice to see a new face. You must be Nomvula.”

“Oh, Thuli, hi! I spoke to you on the phone?”

The teacher nodded and asked, “Have you danced before?”

“Ja, for six years, and then not at all for another ten or so years, so I’m pretty rusty,” said Nomvula ruefully.

“Don’t worry about that. This class isn’t too advanced; you’ll catch up soon enough and you may even want to move on to a more advanced group.”

“Oh, I think this will do me just fine for a while.”

“Great. Let’s introduce you to everyone and then we can start. Please put your bag over there.”

Thuli pointed to the furthest corner of the room, where there was an assortment of other bags strewn casually on the floor. The front of the room was lined with mirrors, and the side that ran along the outside corridor was clear glass, so that anyone passing by could see into the room.

Only as she found herself a space on the floor did No­mvula notice the young man seated towards the back of the room. In front of him were two drums. Thuli signalled to him and he began a slow, simple beat.

“Okay, we’ll start with breathing to the count of eight,” instructed Thuli. She caught up with the count and then began taking the class through a series of stretching exercises that gradually increased in pace and complexity.

Nomvula remembered quite a few of the exercises, despite not having done them for ages. The routine, however, took some getting used to, but by the end of the class she could execute the moves quite competently.

“You’re good,” Thuli complimented her afterwards. “It’s taken a couple of weeks for everyone to learn the routine and you almost got it on the first day.”

“I think I may have overdone it a bit, though.” Nomvula grimaced as she felt a knot of tension in her back. “I’m going to be so stiff tomorrow.”

“Go home and take a hot shower, or better yet, soak yourself in a tub with bath salts. And make sure you stretch again right afterwards. That should take care of it.”

Thuli waved cheerily and walked off towards the cafeteria.

Nomvula checked her watch; it was time to pick up Mpho.

* * *

While Nomvula settled into a new routine, Daniel’s schedule changed, picking up quite a frantic pace. He spent most of his time that week in the office, when he wasn’t cooped up at Parscope with Tshepo and their respective legal advisors.

But eventually everything was back on track and Daniel could afford a little relaxation with his friend in Chez Max, a restaurant revered by businesspeople in all of Rivonia.

“You’re getting the best out of this deal,” said Tshepo. “Do you realise that you probably never need to work again?”

“Ja, but you know me.” Daniel smiled apologetically. “With all the ideas I have in my head, I need to keep grafting to stay sane.”

“Well, you can tinker all you want now.” Tshepo changed the subject without warning. “So what happened to isimomondiya you brought to my party the other night?”

Daniel burst into laughter. “The other night you’re referring to is two months ago, at the very least, and that cute young thing was simply that: a date and no more.”

Tshepo’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Hey wena! You don’t mean to say you’re still doing the monk thing? It’s been three years since Alexa left, and . . .” Tshepo’s voice tailed off when he noticed the look on his friend’s face. He realised that once again he had started on a subject better left alone. But he wasn’t prepared to never talk about it, so he tried a different tack.

“Are you never going to let another woman into your life because some vain bitch pulled a fast one on you?” Too late. He had started off well, but his tactlessness got the better of him.

Tshepo saw Daniel’s lips compress into a grim line and tried again. “I mean, don’t you think it’s time to let it go?” He had managed to change his tone somewhat, and to his relief his question sounded more like concern than an attack.

“I have let it go,” Daniel replied, relaxing somewhat. “Just because I don’t talk about it all the time, it doesn’t mean I’m not dating,” he defended his position.

“Uh-huh.” Tshepo sipped his Perrier. “So who are you seeing then?”

“Who are you seeing?”

“Hey, I’ve been in hospital, what do you take me for?” At Daniel’s look Tshepo conceded, “All right, inkosazana enhle, known as uNomsa Sheba.”

Daniel shook his head. “Is she a model? An air hostess?”

“What if she is?” challenged Tshepo.

“I rest my case.” Daniel threw his hands up into the air.

“Ja, but I don’t rest mine,” Tshepo countered. “Who are you seeing? Come on, spit it out.”

Daniel groaned inwardly. He should have just answered the question in the first instance; now Tshepo was never going to believe that he wasn’t hiding something.

“No one, okay? I’m not seeing anyone.”

Sure enough, Tshepo looked at him sceptically, but decided to let the matter rest.

“I hear you’ve got a glamorous new nanny for Mpho.” Tshepo chewed his steak with an air of studied nonchalance. “I think I might pay you a visit soon.”

“Please don’t.” Daniel didn’t even need to ask how Tshepo had heard about Nomvula. “Thabs?”

“Couldn’t wait to tell me. So?”

“So what?”

“How old is she?”

Daniel answered automatically, “Twenty-seven.”

“You thinking of making a plan?”

“Hey wena, Tshepo! Just give it a break.” Daniel stood up.

Tshepo was genuinely baffled. “Why are you so touchy all of a sudden?”

“Forget it! I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Daniel put on his jacket and made his way back to the corporate offices of Modise Electronics with a picture of No­m­vula posted firmly in his mind.

It was amazing. In a few short days she had become an integral part of his life. He actually looked forward to seeing her at the end of the day when he got home, and after Mpho had gone to bed he eagerly joined her in the lounge to talk about her day for a while or to simply sit and watch television.

Nomvula seemed genuinely interested in the stories he recounted of his working day. Occasionally she even offered valuable insights. This was a rare treat, because then Daniel would know for sure that she was really interested and not merely being polite. It was difficult to see through her cool friendliness, except when she was with Mpho, or at times when she was in the mood to respond to his teasing.

His cellphone rang.

“Modise,” he answered.

“I’m having a party on Friday. Don’t forget ukuletha ugoverness along with you.” The caller hung up.

Daniel sighed. His friend wasn’t called “the great Tshepo Moeketsi” for nothing. If he didn’t take Nomvula with him on Friday, Tshepo would definitely come to his house to check her out, and Daniel didn’t want that to happen. No­mvula deserved the undisturbed security and personal space she would enjoy in her own home.

Daniel checked his watch; it was three o’clock. Might as well go home, he convinced himself. Mpho was leaving for East London with Lerato and family tomorrow, so he should spend time with her.

Who was he kidding?