Читать книгу From the First Kiss - Zanele Nondzimba - Страница 6

Chapter 3

3

The next day, as he had promised, Mandla was waiting outside the youth centre by the door. He looked stylish in jeans and a green golf shirt.

“That’s him,” Thando said to Zodwa as she found herself a parking spot.

“Not bad, girl. I’d give him nine out of ten for looks,” Zodwa said as they waved at him.

They stepped out of the vehicle and without hesitation Mandla walked over to them. Thando introduced him to her friend. They shook hands while Zodwa ran her eyes over him critically.

“You’re not bad,” she drawled.

“Thank you, I guess.”

Thando slapped Zodwa’s hand away from Mandla’s and shook her head. “Forgive her. She misbehaves,” she apologised.

“Come on, help us with the costumes,” Zodwa instructed, getting items out of the car.

After they’d hung the costumes in the dressing room, Thando and Zodwa proceeded to the stage while Mandla watched them from the auditorium. Thando clapped her hands as the students trickled in. “All right, guys, I want you to come up here and stand in a circle. Come on!” she yelled, loudly, so that she could be heard at the back of the hall.

A group of students skipped to the stage and gave her and Zodwa bear hugs. The others were running and mock-fighting as they approached. Once everyone finally settled down, they went into their exercise routine without any prompting: “Top of the day. Tip top. Tippity toppity snip snop. Paul pruned Penelope’s pansies, leaving Penelope perplexed!”

This went on for fifteen minutes before Zodwa moved to the middle of the circle. “All right, my wonderful thespians, we’re doing Act I, Scene III. Places . . .” she said, turning the pages of her script. Thando made as if to move away to the auditorium area, but Zodwa grabbed her arm. “I’m going to need you here.”

Then she turned to Mandla and beckoned with her hand. He looked left and right, then pointed to himself, at which Zodwa nodded. Thando’s eyebrows creased as she wondered what mischief her friend was about to get up to.

Mandla walked up hesitantly, scratching the back of his head. When he reached the stage, Zodwa made him get up on it and instructed him and Thando to stand facing each other.

“What are you doing, Zo?” Thando asked, biting her bottom lip. She looked at Mandla and he shrugged his shoulders, indicating that he didn’t know either.

“Antony and Cleopatra!” Zodwa called out to two actors who were already standing together, ready to deliver their lines. “As I mentioned last week, this scene is full of passion. But I want you to always think natural. Thando and Mandla are going to show you how this is done.”

“Eh . . .” Mandla interjected.

Zodwa waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry, I’ll instruct you. Thando knows what to do. Right now, I want Marcus and Pula to observe what chemistry looks like, ’cos a lot of it is required in this play.”

The blood rushed to Thando’s face. She lowered her eyes, hoping that Mandla wouldn’t see the redness in her cheeks, one of the disadvantages of being caramel-skinned. She heard him say, “I don’t mind if Thando doesn’t.”

Thando looked up in disbelief and as their eyes met, she found herself captured by penetrating ebony eyes that made her feel as if they were looking deep into her soul. For the first time she noticed his strong, chiselled features with the most luscious-looking lips that she’d ever seen on a man. He wasn’t just attractive, he was stunningly handsome. A real man.

Focus! she reprimanded herself.

“I want you to take it from ‘Most sweet queen’.” Zodwa handed Mandla her script and proceeded to go and stand out front with Marcus and Pula.

“How do you want me to say ‘Most sweet queen’?” Mandla enquired, looking at Zodwa and then Thando.

“I want you to beseech her. You’re in love with this woman, deeply in love.”

Mandla faced Thando and gave her one of his killer smiles. Goodness, she could hardly breathe, seeing his eyes gleam like that.

Legs, please don’t fail me now, Thando thought to herself as she floated into a world where it was just the two of them on a deserted island.

“Most sweet queen,” Mandla implored with his eyebrows slightly creased and looking serious all of a sudden.

Startled, Thando had to blink a few times to get out of her fantasy world. She gave her script a fleeting glance and started, “Nay, pray you, seek no colour for your going.” She walked a few paces away from him and continued, “But bid farewell, and go: when you sued staying.”

She sashayed towards Mandla again. Not taking her eyes off his, she continued, “Then was the time for words: no going then.” Thando moved in even closer to him, reaching out to stroke his cheek.

With him bending over, their faces drew closer and closer, their lips almost touching. She felt his breath against her upper lip, a sweet touch from heaven. She continued, “Eternity was in our lips and eyes, bliss in our brows’ bent; none our parts so poor, but was a race of heaven.”

Just as they were about to kiss, she turned her face away in anger and bellowed, “They are so still! Or thou, the greatest soldier of the world, art turn’d the greatest liar!”

He stared at her in shock, stunned into silence. She smiled and signalled towards the script.

“Eh . . . Oh, it’s my turn,” he said, holding up the script so that he could read it clearly. “How now, lady!”

Thando stifled a laugh and continued with her speech. “I would I had thy inches; thou shouldst know. There were a heart in Egypt . . .”

“Thanks, you two,” Zodwa said as she signalled to Pula and Marcus to go back up on stage. “Do you guys see what Thando and I were talking about last week?”

The actors nodded in unison.

“I want to see passion,” Zodwa continued. “I want to feel the chemistry between the two of you.”

“Passion!” Marcus repeated emphatically, looking at Thando and Mandla. “There was definitely a lot of passion up here.” Pula laughed and hit him over the head with her script.

Thando blushed profusely again and took her turn to hit Marcus over the head with her own script.

As the actors ran through the play, Thando watched Mandla from the corner of her eye. It warmed her heart to see that he looked captivated.

Once the play was done, he stood up and cheered from the back of the hall. He looked both adorable and silly, howling and cheering all alone.

“Your kids are great,” Mandla praised the women as they walked back to the car park.

“Thanks. They’ve worked really hard,” Thando replied.

“When is the play being staged? I want to come.”

“It’s going to be in May. One evening only. You must invite your friends.”

“I sure will.”

“By the way, you weren’t bad yourself,” Thando said, nudging him with the elbow.

“How now, lady!” he joked, pretending to be in character again. “I think I nailed that line, don’t you agree?”

“You were right on point,” Thando laughed.

They reached her car and she unlocked the doors. There was a brief silence and Zodwa rolled her eyes as she got into the car, leaving Thando and Mandla alone.

“Thanks for inviting me to the rehearsal. I really enjoyed it.”

“Thanks for coming.”

“Would you like to go out for dinner?” both said at the same time and laughed.

“I’d love to. How about seven tonight?” Thando queried.

“Seven is perfect. Shall I pick you up at six forty-five?”

“No, I’d like to drive myself. We could meet at Café 41 in Eastwood Village. How does that sound?”

“That’s p-perfect too. Seven, Café 41, Eastwood Village. Seven. Café 41. I’ll b-be there by six forty-five.”

Thando smiled at his bumbling behaviour and tried to stifle a laugh. She found him incredibly charming, because he could change in a split second from being confident and dignified to resembling an awkward teenager. She was definitely beginning to like him.

* * *

Thando felt eager to meet Mandla again and yet anxious too. What if he was a con man as well? What if he was wooing her for personal gain? She stood midway between the car park and the entrance to Café 41, hesitating to go in. Then she decided to walk back to her car, her head spinning with more questions.

What if Zodwa was right? What if she was so afraid to get hurt again that she would rather miss out on a great opportunity to meet someone new? Had she really stopped living? Would she really develop cobwebs?

Thando chuckled at how ridiculous she was being and mustered up the courage to walk into Café 41. As she entered, she saw Mandla sitting at a table, reading the menu.

Heads turned towards her, for she looked remarkable in her figure-hugging black mini dress. Her long braids were tied back into a bun, revealing her large eyes, her long, slender neck, her rosy, slightly plump cheeks and a high, prominent forehead.

The mini revealed her full bottom and hips, her tiny, well-defined waist and reasonably buxom chest. Her black stockings showed off shapely, strong legs that looked incredibly sexy in stilettos. As an added benefit, the heels made her look at least three inches taller. The look was quite a change from her usual uniform of bell-bottom jeans and colourful tops that Zodwa always made fun of.

Mandla looked up and beamed when he took note of her presence. The more she saw him smile, the more he made her heart skip a beat. As she walked towards him, she felt her heart beat faster and faster like a choo-choo train.

He rose and greeted Thando with a warm bear hug, which instantly made her feel safe in his arms. She inhaled his scent and sighed. He pulled out a chair for her and as he took his seat, they gazed into each other’s eyes, which made her laugh nervously.

“Why are you laughing?” He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“You have a contagious smile. It makes me want to smile,” she replied, picking up her menu.

Thando studied the pasta dishes, trying to make up her mind between the Alfredo or beef lasagne. She heard her stomach growl, reminding her that she had not eaten since they left for the youth centre earlier on.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying that you look wonderful,” Mandla said.

She looked up from the menu and smiled.

“Forgive me for staring as you were approaching, but wow! I couldn’t help but be captured by how graceful you look when you walk.”

“Thank you,” she replied coyly. Thando wondered what was going through Mandla’s mind as he gazed at her. It didn’t feel as if he was undressing her with his eyes. Instead, it was an appreciative look coupled with subtle desire. It made her feel sixteen all over again. What a strange feeling.

The waiter, a lanky young man with a friendly expression, interrupted their moment to take the drinks order.

“May I have guava juice first and then a glass of red wine, please?” she asked.

“Make it a bottle of your best red wine,” Mandla requested in an authoritative voice. There was something seductive yet sophisticated about the way he talked. He had an aura that dignified men usually had, as if he were above anything petty.

The waiter scurried to the bar and was back in two minutes.

“Wow, service is never this fast in Pretoria. It must be you,” Thando said and winked at Mandla, who looked pleased.

“Are you ready to place your orders?” the waiter asked.

“I’ll have the beef lasagne, with a side salad,” she said.

“And I’ll have the same, thank you.”

“Sure,” the waiter responded before dashing away again.

“Thandooo,” Mandla drawled, fixing his lips so that the “o” in her name dragged on. He was teasing her and she was enjoying it. “That is love. I think it’s an apt name for a beautiful woman like you.”

“I think you’re right,” she replied with a slight smirk.

He emitted a rich laugh, which made her blush. She wasn’t sure why she felt shy all of a sudden, but since she’d met him, she seemed to be confused about her emotions.

Fortunately he distracted her. “So tell me, how did you get started on the youth centre project?”

“It was Zodwa. She opened the centre four years ago, in memory of her father.”

“What happened to him?”

“He had a massive heart attack. It was unexpected, because he was a very healthy man. It really crushed her.”

“Losing a loved one is never easy.”

Thando nodded and then continued, “She misses him a lot. He was a very wealthy man and left her all his fortune. That’s how she built the centre, but she would give all the money up to spend time with him again.”

“Money can’t replace time, love and affection,” Mandla said reflectively.

Thando wondered if he had been through a similar experience. “Love is very important. It’s what makes us human. Without it, there’s no existence,” she said.

He lifted his eyes and smiled. “Spoken like a true romantic. Do you believe in love at first sight?”

She smiled. “I used to. Until I discovered that love at first sight may well be lust at first sight.”

He laughed. “You don’t strike me as a cynic.”

“I’m not, I’m a realist. How can you love someone you don’t know?”

“I think it’s possible.”

“When you meet someone for the first time, you don’t know what their idiosyncrasies are. You don’t know their character or their spirit. You have to get to know someone before claiming that you love them. Don’t you think?”

“Well, I believe love has the ability to strike soul mates at their first encounter. Have you ever met someone you had a deep, meaningful conversation with, someone who made you feel like you were old friends, even though you had just met?”

“Sure.”

“Wouldn’t you call that love at first sight?”

Thando thought about it and had to admit that Mandla had a point. But she needed further convincing. He was proving to be a good conversationalist and that was what made a man attractive.

“I’d call that having a connection with someone, not necessarily falling in love,” she said pensively. “I’ve had quite a few of those encounters, with both men and women. But I wouldn’t go as far as saying that I fell in love.”

“How would you define falling in love?” he asked, his eyes beginning to glisten.

She thought for a moment before speaking. “I don’t think love can be defined really. It’s an all-encompassing emotion. And words would limit its significance in life.”

“Wow, I love the way you think.”

Just then the waiter appeared with their dinner.

“Tell me about your family. Do you have brothers and sisters?” Mandla asked, lifting a fork of lasagne to his mouth.

“I have a brother, S’phiwe. He’s studying medicine in KZN. My mom and dad are pensioners. My mom used to be a teacher and my dad was a journalist.”

“Aha, so you’re a family of intellectuals.”

She smiled. “How about you? Do you have siblings?”

“Too many,” he replied. “There are nine of us: six boys and three girls.”

“Nine!” Thando gasped, her eyes opening wide. “Oh my word! How did your mom manage?”

“She did the best she could. She was a strict disciplinarian, because we would run amuck sometimes. Dad was heavily into politics, so he was away most of the time, and then he was exiled and we didn’t see him at all for years. Mom was left doing all the hard work at home. Now that I’m older, I realise how strong she was, never once complaining.”

“Wow!” Thando exclaimed. “That’s quite something.”

“My father passed on ten years ago, and like Zodwa’s dad, he had it all: money and power. He was a gentle soul, but when it came to politics, he was ruthless. A couple of years after apartheid ended, he became a businessman.

“My current boss, Doctor Angotte, was actually his best friend. They met in Nigeria, where my father lived in exile. But you know what, even though we didn’t get to see him as much as we wanted to, we knew that he was always there. And once he was allowed back into the country, he tried to make up for all the lost time. I’d give anything to spend time with him again. All the trust money he left us could never replace him.”

Thando reached out for Mandla’s hand, her heart going out to him.

“I’m getting all sombre, I’m sorry,” he apologised.

“No, don’t be. You’re open, and I appreciate that.”

He smiled at her and kissed her knuckles. “You haven’t touched your lasagne. It’s getting cold.”

“Ai, and I’m starving,” Thando said, starting to dig in. She used her hand to shove a big leaf she had combined with some of the lasagne into her mouth.

“Take it easy, beautiful,” Mandla chuckled, watching her intently as she struggled with the leaf.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, covering her mouth with a serviette. “I’m so hungry, but that wasn’t supposed to happen.” She lowered her eyes and finished chewing, feeling her cheeks burn.

Oh man, how embarrassing, she thought to herself, cutting the salad leaves into smaller pieces.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, not taking his eyes off her. “I love a woman with an appetite.”

She laughed, feeling more at ease. Mandla was certainly an enchanting character, intelligent and humorous. He was slightly arrogant, but that trait was overshadowed by his caring nature. The fact that he shared personal information about his family life made her see his gentle and vulnerable side. She knew in her heart that she wanted to spend more time with him.

The evening proved to be delightful. They laughed, ate and talked the rest of the night away.

Mandla insisted on following Thando’s car back to her apartment building. When they arrived there, he got out of his vehicle, took her hand and walked her over to the entrance.

The weather was balmy, with the warm night air blowing kisses to the animated streets of Hatfield. Mandla smiled, his dimples winking at her.

“Thank you for a lovely evening,” she started.

“No, thank you,” he said, reaching out to take her other hand. He kissed its palm, making her heart leap. Realising that the space between them had vanished with him standing intimately close to her, she felt herself tremble. What was going on with her? Sizwe hadn’t made her tremble on their first date. And now here she was, her heart fluttering uncontrollably.

Thando closed her eyes as Mandla’s mouth met hers. He was not just kissing her, he was mesmerising her lips, making her surrender to the moment, and she had no intention to protest. The sensuality of his lips made her feel as if she was swimming in a bath of milk.

She felt dizzy in his embrace, she was floating, soaring into the sky with the most beautiful man she had ever met. She had never been kissed like this before; it was heaven.