Read Sylvie's Love Page 2

CHAPTER TWO

  Sylvie was dropped off at her parents' home, with Ma. She sat on her bed, unable to believe that she was there. When she had left, she had vowed never to return to her parents' home. She lay back on the bed, telling herself over and over again, that she had to get out of there.

  The door opened, and Ma entered the room. Sylvie's heart sank. Ma was wearing her pious and self-righteous look.

  “Get on your knees Sylvia,” she said. Sylvie knelt, Ma put her hands on her head, and started praying at the top of her voice. She asked God to save Sylvia from the wickedness in her heart and mind, that made her forget to submit to her husband. She called on the demon in Sylvie to leave.

  “Out! Out! Out! I command you to leave now,” she shouted, shaking Sylvie violently. The prayer was long and repetitive. When Ma tired, she left. Sylvie sat on the floor, repeating to herself, that she had to leave.

  She spent the day in her room, going through options in her mind.

  Baba returned after dark. Soon after his arrival, he called Sylvie. She found him and Ma in the lounge. They told her to kneel, then they took turns, putting their hands on her head, praying loudly, and shaking her violently.

  Next evening, Baba returned with several pastors, who joined him and Ma in praying for Sylvie.

  The following evening, Baba hosted a prayer meeting, as he did every Thursday. Sylvie was told to join the meeting. The time came for people to share what they needed the group to pray about. Several people mentioned jobs, children, and addictions. Baba called on Sylvie, she said that she had no problem. Ma then told the group that Sylvie had a demon that made her disrespect her husband, disregard culture, and refuse her husband his marital rights. Humiliated, Sylvie made to stand. Baba told the group members to hold her, because the demon in her did not want the light of Jesus shone on it.

  Sylvie struggled, as she was held down, made to kneel, then she was prayed over. She closed her eyes, and imagined herself in a hot bath, listening to her favourite Mafikizolo CD. She smiled slightly, transported to a place where she wanted to be. She opened her eyes. She was sitting on the floor, alone in the room.

  That's it, no more, she vowed. Ma and Baba joined her.

  “Get us dinner,” said Ma.

  “Now,” said Baba. Sylvie stood, and went to dish up the food, then she took it to the dining room. Her parents were already seated there. She turned to leave the room.

  “Sit down,” said Baba.

  “I'm not hungry,” said Sylvie.

  “Your father said sit down,” said Ma. Sylvie sat down.

  “You'll be alright. On Sunday, I'm going to preach about women submitting to their husbands. After that, pastors, local, and from other branches, will dine here, then we'll pray for you all night. When you return to Buthelezi next Sunday, you'll be a real woman, who carries out her duties to her husband. Nine months from then, you'll be giving birth to your first baby,” said Baba. Sylvie did not respond.

  “You should thank your father for all that he's doing for you. It's not easy for us to have you returned to us in disgrace, as if we didn't bring you up properly. A lot of parents would blame you, and make your life miserable, but we're praying for you, because we're good parents. When you return to your husband, do what we've taught you, and make us proud. Wipe the memory of this disgrace from our minds, and from the minds of your in-laws,” said Ma.

  “Aren't you going to say something?” asked Baba.

  “Thank you for showing me what I need to do,” said Sylvie, then she left the room.

  In her bedroom, she set the alarm clock, and climbed into bed. She woke before the alarm clock rang, switched it off, then she took a quick shower. She dressed warmly, and switched on the TV, making it loud enough to drown most other sounds. She packed some food into her handbag, took all the money that she could find, then she disarmed the alarm. She stepped out of the house, closed the front door, and walked away.

  It was dark, the street lights were off, and she could not see where she was going. She hurt her feet several times, as she walked into potholes, but she kept going. She stopped lifts, begging people to help her to get out of an unbearable situation. Several people left her because she had no money, others helped her.

  She arrived at the home of a taxi owner at dawn, and asked to see him.

  “MaMthombeni, what can I do for you?” he asked.

  “I need to get to Joburg, but I have no money. I'm hoping you'll help me, the way I helped you when...”

  “No need to go into details, my girl. Sit here,” said Nxumalo.

  Sylvie tired of waiting, but she could not go back. Nxumalo fetched her, took her to the taxi rank, put her in a taxi, spoke to the driver, waved at Sylvie, and left. The taxi filled up, and left.

  It arrived in Johannesburg after dark. Sylvie was grateful that the lights worked. She was also grateful that she knew where she was going. Several men whistled at her, and called out to her. She walked fast, keeping her mind on her destination.

  She arrived at the block of flats that she was looking for, and took the stairs to the sixth floor. She was exhausted when she stood before the door that she had been looking for. She knocked on it, then she palmed it noisily, as there was no response.

  The door opened suddenly, and she felt a gun on her forehead. Her knees went weak.

  “Don't shoot, please!” she begged,

  “Sylvia? Is that you?” asked Buti.

  “Yes, Buti, please don't shoot,” she said.

  “You scared me stupid! Get in here,” said Buti, pulling her into his home.

  “What are you doing here at this time of night?” he asked.

  “I've come to look for a job.”

  “I thought you had a job.”

  “It ended.”

  “Hmm,” said Buti, looking at her closely. She became uncomfortable beneath his scrutiny.

  “Get some sleep,” he said. Sylvie put her arms round him, and started crying.

  “It's alright, stop that now,” he said, sounding uncomfortable. Sylvie pulled herself together, and withdrew from him. He left the lounge and returned with blankets. He handed them to her.

  “Goodnight,” he said, then he left. Sylvie put down her bag, and rolled out the blankets. She climbed into them fully clothed, and fell asleep.

  When she woke up, she was alone. She bathed, dressed and cooked the meagre food that was there. She ate a bit, and decided that she would eat Buti out of his house if she did not get a job. She took a taxi to the Johannesburg business district, found a pawn shop, and pawned her engagement and wedding rings.

  She knew that the pawnbroker was cheating her, but she took the meagre money that he offered. She went to an internet cafe, drew up a CV, and started sending it out. She also bought a simcard, and registered her phone, using Thuba's home address as proof of residence. Her money finished and she went home.

  Buti Mike returned after dark. He was exhausted. He showered, and Sylvie fed him.

  “Thank you, it's great to come home and not have to cook,” he said.

  “You look very tired,” said Sylvie.

  “Mine work is exhausting. Never go into it, unless you're in management. What I do is donkey work, and I hate that I can't rise above this level. Soon, I'll be too old to do it, they'll retire me, and I'll starve to death. How are you?”

  “Fine, Buti.”

  “Why did you come in the middle of the night as if you're on the run?”

  “I'm not on the run,” said Sylvie, looking away from him.

  “I heard you got married. Is your husband okay with you coming here?”

  “I didn't get married.”

  “Oh.”

  “How’s your family?”

  “I don't know. I haven't seen them in a long time. I send money every month, but I don't know if it gets to them. Times are hard, Sisi.”

  “Yes.”

  “What are your plans?”

  “I need to get a job. I started applying today.”

  “I can'
t help you yet, you need to wait for month end. Then, I'll have money for you to travel, and do what you need to do.”

  A few days later, Sylvie found work for the day, cleaning in a restaurant. She hated it, and she was paid less than she had been promised.

  “Where were you?” asked Buti, when she returned home. Sylvie told him about her job.

  “You're not going back there,” he said.

  “But...”

  “I don't want you exposed to drug dealers and pimps. You'll stay here, and come month end, I'll give you money, so you can find a proper job.”

  “Buti...”

  “I won't have you abused like I am. You're not going back, and no one will come looking for you.”

  Sylvie felt useless, spending the day at home. In a few days, there was no food in the house. When Buti returned from work, he would freshen up, and sleep. Sylvie felt that if she had not been there, his food might have stretched for him. She cried herself to sleep, accusing herself of being selfish, and coming to starve someone who was helping her.

  A few days later, Buti was paid. He brought home food. Sylvie cooked, and she and Buti stayed up late into the night, talking, and feeling great. Buti gave her money to find work.

  Starting the following day, she bought newpapers and searched the internet for work. It was three months before she was called for an interview. She went to it, and came out depressed, and convinced that she would never find work. She should never have left her other job. How was she going to go back, since she had not resigned, or given notice? She cursed herself for not thinking things through.

  “I'm worried,” Buti said one night.

  “About what?” she said.

  “You. This is a nasty neighbourhood. I want you to move out. I don't like you walking about alone, or at night, with all those predatory men watching you, knowing I'm not here to protect you.”

  “But...”

  “Find somewhere else to live. Your parents will never forgive me if something happens to you while you live with me.”

  “I don't work yet. When, if, I get a job, will you come with me?”

  “No. I'll never find a place as cheap as this.”

  “You said yourself it's unsafe.”

  “True, but if I'm alone, I have no one else to worry about. Everyone around here knows not to mess with me. You are another story. Move in with a woman somewhere, and be safe. I know people who can help you to get work.”

  “I've been looking.”

  “I know my sister, but in this dog eat dog city, connections count.”

  “Why don't you get yourself some work that pays better?”

  “I'm not educated. If you remember, I didn't even get matric, I went to the war. No one can help an uneducated person. They'll help you.”

  “Get educated.”

  “With what money? You saw my food situation, and I send what I can, home. There's nothing left for luxuries, such as education.” Sylvie felt bad about the whole thing. She could not sleep that night, and the next few nights, worrying about Buti.

  A week later, she went to the interview that Buti had organised with an employment agency. They sent her to an interview with a company. Days later, she started working.

  Buti arranged for her to wait for him at a safe location, he would join her, and they would go home together in the evenings after work.

  She was paid weekly, and with her first pay, she bought food fit for a banquet. She and Buti ate well, and slept well. Next day, Buti told her to start looking for alternative accommodation.

  Sylvie enjoyed work. She knew what she was doing as an interior decorator, and her clients were always pleased. She was happy, when her boss, Paula, asked for her inputs on several projects.

  She was amazed that Paula valued her opinion. One morning, during a staff meeting, Sylvie realised that she was staring at Paula. She looked down, and closed her eyes, in an attempt to pull herself together. Behind her closed eyelids, she saw Paula, stark naked, wearing only a garter belt.

  Sylvie opened her eyes, panting in shock and excitement. Paula was standing before the staff, in a black pant suit. Her brunette hair suited her grey eyes. She is gorgeous, thought Sylvie. Her eyes widened, shocked by her thought. She’s not too tall for me to kiss, thought Sylvie. She gasped, everyone looked at her, she pretended to cough.

  Paula frowned at her with concern, from her five foot eight, medium build. What incredible breasts, thought Sylvie. She closed her eyes and groaned.

  “Sylvie?” said Paula. What a sexy voice, thought Sylvie, then she opened her eyes.

  “Sorry, I'm fine,” she said. The meeting continued. Why did I have to choose a staff meeting to notice Paula, Sylvie asked herself.

  The meeting ended. As she returned to her desk, Sylvie told herself firmly, that fantasies about the boss were a no-no, and she would have to make sure that she did not have a repeat episode.

  One of her colleagues, Pinky, advertised for a roommate. Sylvie applied, and Pinky agreed for her to move in. Buti was glad to hear it. He helped Sylvie to move to Pinky's home.

  Sylvie kept in touch with him by phone. She would put some money into his bank account every week, when she was paid.

  She felt safer staying with Pinky, who had a car, and gave her lifts to and from work, most days.

  Pinky went to visit her family one weekend, and Sylvie invited Buti to visit her. They ate, then they sat talking.

  “Most of my money goes into food,” she said.

  “Stop buying food.”

  “And eat what?”

  “Eat once a day, that's what I do. I eat supper. That's the only way I have money to send home every month.”

  “That's starvation, Buti.”

  “That's life. Have you been in touch with your parents? They must worry about you. I'll call them and tell them you're safe.”

  “No! No, I'll call them.”

  “Why don't I believe you?”

  “I'll call them.”

  “I was always glad they weren't my parents. You must have felt like you lived in a church.”

  “Yes, it did feel like that.”

  Pinky's boyfriend, Nox, moved in with Pinky and Sylvie. Sylvie's life turned from sweet, to bitter, in a short space of time. Nox was always making passes at her. She started looking for other places to live, but her budget did not allow for it.

  She arrived home one evening, and found Nox alone. He made a pass at her, she ignored him. He followed her to her bedroom, and put his arms round her. She screamed and struggled.

  “What's going on here?” demanded Pinky. Nox released Sylvie, and left the room.

  “I want you out of here, now!” shouted Pinky, then she left. Sylvie sank to the floor, crying. She picked up her phone, and phoned Paula, her boss. Paula arrived in a short time to pick her up. Pinky ignored Sylvie as she took her belongings out of the house. Paula drove off.

  “Are you alright?” she asked. Sylvie nodded.

  “I have never been so scared in my life. When Thuba used to touch me, I'd get scared, but that Nox was nasty, really nasty. Thuba never forced himself on me,” she said.

  “Who is Thuba? Sylvie?”

  “My...husband...ex-husband.”

  “You're married?”

  “I left.”

  “I see. Where’s your husband?”

  “Durban.”

  “Why did you leave?”

  “I should never have married him. I can't stand being touched by a man.”

  “Why did you marry him?”

  “To cure myself.”

  “Of what?”

  “My desire to sleep with women. I'd spend hours fantasizing about making love to women. I thought I was sick, until I read about it in a magazine. The article said some women even spend their lives together, without shame.”

  “Why should there be shame?”

  “Because the pastors at my church, and my father, who's a bishop, said it's demonic, and that only the cursed do that.”

  “Tha
t's not true.”

  “I know that now.”

  At Paula's home, they took Sylvie’s belongings from the car, to the house. Paula showed Sylvie to a bedroom with a bed, chairs, and a dressing table. Sylvie started crying.

  “What's the matter?” asked Paula, putting her arms round Sylvie.

  “This is so nice! I haven't been in such a nice room since I came to Joburg. Thank you for letting me stay with you. I'll be out as soon as possible.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Yes.”

  “Get cleaned up, and come and eat.”

  After her shower, Sylvie let her nose lead her to the kitchen. She looked about the house as she went. She found Paula cooking.

  “This is a fabulous home,” she said.

  “Sit down, it's time to eat,” said Paula. Sylvie washed her hands, and sat down. Paula brought the food to the table, and they ate.

  “That was great, thank you,” said Sylvie.

  “You're welcome.”

  “I'll clean up.”

  “Go and sleep.” Sylvie slept with a smile on her face, enjoying the comforts of being in a palatial home.

  She and Paula went to work together the following day.She and Pinky could not work together. They could not agree on anything. Many times, their supervisor had to call them to order, as they disrupted their colleagues with their noise and disagreements.

  During her lunch breaks, Sylvie would look for alternative accommodation on the internet.

  She realised that she was being given more work. Every day, her work load increased. She found it exciting and challenging.

  Paula had staff at home who cooked, washed and cleaned the house. Sylvie felt as if she was living like a queen, who did not have to lift a finger to do a single stroke of work at home, unless she wanted to.

  She found herself finding Paula more wonderful and more attractive each day. Every morning, when she woke up, she would give herself a stern talk, about not fantasizing about Paula, or noticing how gorgeous she was.

  One morning, as she and Paula were driving to work, Paula stopped at an office park.

  “Are we here to see clients?” asked Sylvie.

  “You're here for an interview.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I think you're capable of doing more work, and getting paid more money.”

  “But...”

  “Don't you want more money?”

  “Of course...”

  “I'll pick you up in an hour.”

  “Paula!”

  “I have an appointment with a client. Here's who you'll see,” said Paula, giving Sylvie a business card. Sylvie took it, and climbed out of the car. She watched in disbelief as Paula drove off.

  Why would Paula arrange an interview? She wants me to leave, thought Sylvie. That thought saddened her. She liked Paula, and she knew that on her own, she was not yet in a position to live the life that Paula had let her experience.

  It's for the best. I mustn't be a baby about this, I must be a woman, and stand on my own feet, thought Sylvie. She stood straight, and approached the building before her.

  The interview was gruelling, it was a test of her skills and knowledge. She was exhausted when it ended. Sylvie followed Donna, her interviewer, to reception. Paula was there. She and Donna greeted each other, then she and Sylvie made their goodbyes to Donna, and left.

  “How did it go?” asked Paula.

  “I don't know.”

  “We're going to see a client, then we'll go to the office.”

  One weekend, Paula took Sylvie with her on a visit to her parents' home. Sylvie had refused, Paula had insisted. Sylvie felt that Paula's family was watching her too closely. She felt as if they thought that she was a thief. She helped with the cooking and cleaning. Her phone rang. Donna was offering her a job, at triple her present salary.

  “Are you alright?” asked Paula, after the call. Sylvie told her about the job offer.

  “Go for it. You'll fax your resignation letter from there on Monday,” said Paula.

  “But...”

  “This is a great opportunity, don't waste it. Phone Donna and tell her you can start on Monday. Phone her.” Sylvie phoned Donna, and accepted the job offer.

  On Monday, Paula drove Sylvie to her new work place, and reminded her to fax her resignation through to her.

  Sylvie found the new job challenging. There was more work than she was used to, and she would get home and sleep, being too tired to do anything else.

  Several weeks later, Sylvie asked Paula not to fetch her home from work.

  “Why not?” asked Paula.

  “I'm going house-hunting.”

  “That's not a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “Are you going back to your husband?”

  “What? No! Why are you asking me that?” asked Sylvie, very surprised by the question.

  “Are you divorced? Sylvie? If you're not divorced, I suggest you work on getting a divorce. I'll help you find other accommodation once the divorce is out of the way.”

  “I...”

  “You can't delay this any longer. Don't you want your husband to marry someone else and be happy?”

  “I guess.”

  “He can't do that while married to you.”

  “I know.”

  “Set him free.” Sylvie nodded unhappily. She did not want to think about Thuba. Thinking about him brought feelings that she did not want to feel.

  “Do you know any good lawyers?” she asked. Paula gave her a business card.

  “He's said to be an excellent divorce lawyer. Get in touch with him.”

  “He's in Durban. How am I going to see him?”

  “Isn't that where your husband is?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you'll go there.” Sylvie felt cold in the pit of her stomach.

  “I'll go with you,” said Paula.

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Phone him, make an appointment, and we'll make a plan.” Sylvie nodded.

  She phoned the lawyer, and he started preparing the papers. At work, Sylvie was getting used to the work load. She was no longer as tired as she had been, when she had started working there.

  Several times, when Sylvie left the office, she would find Paula and Donna talking, while Paula was waiting for her.

  “Are you and Donna friends?” she asked Paula one evening. Paula took a while to answer.

  “We used to be lovers,” she said.

  “Oh! Oh. I don't know what to say.”

  “There's nothing to say.”

  “I'm so embarrassed about asking you such a personal question. Sorry.”

  “There's nothing to be sorry about, and it's not personal. We broke up eight years ago. We're not so much friends now, as we are business associates. Do you like working for her?”

  “Yes.”

  “She's the best in the business. Learn as much as you can from her.”

  Sylvie phoned her lawyer for an update. He had served Thuba with divorce papers, and a court date had been set, in Durban. Sylvie would have to go there. She told Paula, who said that she would organise herself at work, and suggested that Sylvie do the same. Donna agreed to give Sylvie time off, if she would make up for it when she returned.

  Paula had business in Durban. The company paid for her to go, she paid for Sylvie to fly with her.

  Sylvie felt sick to her stomach. She hoped that she did not meet anyone that she knew on the plane. She did not meet anyone she knew. At the airport, they were met by Paula's associates, who took them to their home.

  After dinner that night, Paula joined Sylvie in her room.

  “Have you spoken to your husband since you left?” she asked.

  “No! What would we talk about?”

  “Why you're getting the divorce.”

  “But...”

  “Phone him, and make an appointment to see him.”

  “Whatever for?” aske
d a shocked Sylvie.

  “To tell him there's no going back.”

  “The divorce papers told him that.”

  “Go and see him, Sylvie, for closure. I'll come with you.”

  “It's unnecessary.”

  “It's very necessary.”

  “He'll bring my parents, they'll tell me to go back to him, and I will. I always do what they tell me to do.”

  “Did they tell you to go to Joburg?”

  “Well, no.”

  “See him.” They shared a long look. Sylvie looked away from Paula's grey eyes, feeling as if she was drowning in them.

  She picked up her phone, invoked private number, and phoned Thuba. His phone rang a long time. She was about to cut the call, when he answered his phone. Sylvie's heart pounded even faster.

  “Hello?” said Thuba. Sylvie gasped.

  “Hello?” Thuba said again.

  “Thuba,” said Sylvie. He drew a breath.

  “Sylvia!” he said.

  “How are you?”

  “How do you think I am? My wife desserts me, then she sends me divorce papers from across the country. I...”

  “Can we meet? I can't talk right now.”

  “Meet? Now you want to meet?”

  “Is tomorrow good for you? I think we should talk before we meet in court.” Her heart was thundering, as she listened to his silence. He named a place and time, she agreed, he cut the call.

  “He's furious, and rightly so,” said Sylvie.

  “He'll get over it.”

  “I have a bad feeling about this meeting.”

  “I'll be with you, nothing will happen.”

  “It's just that...”

  “Do you want to go back to him?”

  “No!”

  “Then get over your bad feeling. You're doing what's best for both of you.” They shared a look.

  “I'm scared,” said Sylvie.

  “I know, it will be alright. Get some sleep,” said Paula. She kissed Sylvie's cheek, and left.

  Sylvie hardly slept, and she could not eat the following day. After her appointments, Paula fetched her, and they went to meet Thuba.

  They sat in the car, outside the meeting place. Sylvie kept listing the terrible things that would happen.

  “Calm down,” said Paula. Sylive took several deep breaths, then she gasped.

  “What is it?” asked Paula. Sylvie pointed at a man walking some metres away from them, on his way to the restaurant.

  “Is that him?” asked Paula. Sylvie nodded.

  “Let's get this out of the way,” said Paula. Sylvie closed her eyes, and took several more deep breaths. They climbed out of the car, and walked to the restaurant. Sylvie spotted Thuba. He was sitting alone, at a table. She was relieved that her parents were not there.

  “Do you mind if I see him alone?” she asked.

  “Call me if you need me, I'll be at the bar,” said Paula, and she walked off. Sylvie approached Thuba.

  He looked at his watch, then he looked up. He watched her as she walked towards him. She stood before him, then she sat down. She greeted him. He nodded. A waiter came to take her drinks order, then he left. She looked at Thuba, he was watching her.

  “You look well,” she said.

  “What do you want?” he asked coldly. No words came out of her throat. Her drink arrived, and she picked it up with shaking hands. She took a big gulp, then she put it down, spilling some of it with her shaking hands.

  “What are you so scared of?” asked Thuba.

  “You.”

  “I'm not going to hurt you.”

  “You are so mad.”

  “I have a right to be. I never, ever, saw myself being abandoned, and then divorced by my wife. Where have you been?”

  “I'm sorry.”

  “About what?”

  “That we didn't work out.”

  “You didn't give us a chance.”

  “I should never have married you.”

  “Why did you?”

  “I hoped you'd cure me.”

  “Cure you?”

  “Of my attraction to women.”

  “You left me for a woman?”

  “No!”

  “Then why did you leave?”

  “Because I can't change who I am. You and I will never work. I’ll never work with any man.” Thuba watched her as if she was speaking a language that he did not understand.

  “Thank you for being man enough to not force yourself on me,” said Sylvie.

  “I would never do that.”

  “I'm really sorry.” Thuba watched her in silence. The silence stretched, Sylvie became uncomfortable under his scrutiny. She scratched behind her ear, and he smiled.

  “You look so sweet when you do that. I used to fantasize that we'd have a daughter who’d do just that, when she was nervous, and turn me to mush, just like her mother,” he said. Sylvie swallowed.

  “I love you, Sylvie,” said Thuba.

  “I love you, too, but...”

  “You're not attracted to me.”

  “It's nothing personal. You're a wonderful man, and a wonderful husband.”

  “Then why divorce me?”

  “Because...”

  “You hate men.”

  “I don't hate them, I just can't be intimate with them. I hope you find a woman who appreciates you, and treats you right.”

  “I hoped I'd found that with you.”

  “I'm sorry.” Thuba sat back, and watched her.

  “Since you've been gone, I've been so angry. I forgot how human you are. I built up an image of a monster, and I intended to use everything in my power to make your life miserable.”

  “Oh.”

  “Now that I've seen you...” Thuba shrugged.

  “I'm really sorry.”

  “That doesn't make me feel better.” Sylvie bit her lower lip, stuck for what to say.

  “I have to go,” said Thuba, and he left quickly. Sylvie watched him, wishing that she had never married him in the first place.

  “Are you alright?” asked Paula.

  “Yes,” said Sylvie. She had not noticed Paula joining her. She paid for the drinks, and they left.

  They went to court together the following day. Sylvie was relieved that neither her parents, nor Thuba's, were there. The divorce was granted. Sylvie met Thuba outside the court house.

  “Good luck,” she said. He looked at her out of hurt eyes. She felt her heart squeeze with pain.

  “I'm so sorry,” she said. He shrugged. She hugged him. She felt him stiffen in surprise, then he held her. He released her, and walked away quickly.

  “Are you alright?” asked Paula. Sylvie threw herself into her arms, weeping.

  “What's the matter?” asked Paula. Sylvie cried a while, then the tears stopped.

  “I can't believe it's over. He was so civil about everything,” she said.

  “That's good.”

  “I should never have married him.”

  “He obviously doesn't hold grudges, he'll be fine.”

  “I want to go home, I don't want to be here anymore.”

  “Okay, we'll go to Gary's.”

  “I want to go home, to Joburg.”

  “I'm not done here.”

  “I'll go alone. I need to go.”

  “Okay, let's see if we can change your ticket.”

  “Will you bring what I left at Gary's house, please?”

  “You really want to go.”

  “I have to.”

  “I'll bring your things.” At the airport, Sylvie was able to catch the first flight out, which was leaving in three hours.