The next week-end Hannes left for a bird watching trip. Jacob, the garden boy, helped him carry a bag full of bird books, binoculars, tape recorders, sketch books, note books and a suitcase full of camouflage clothing to the car. Paulina brought the padkos basket in which she had packed provisions to feed an army and a flask of coffee. I knew that Hannes had hidden 4 bottles of brandy and some 6-packs of beer between the spare wheel and the toolbox. I had a feeling that his trip was about much more than just birds.
“Are you ladies going to be all right?” Hannes asked Marieke and me for the 100th time.
“Ja skat, don’t worry. It’s only for 10 days,” Marieke said. “Did you take your malaria pills?”
“Ja lieffie, and don’t forget to lock the house in the evening and keep the revolver next to your bed. Remember that the Milners down the road were burgled last week while they were having a braai with 20 people in the back garden.”
“Don’t worry, skat. It’s not the first time there is no man in the house. You’ve been going on these trips for the last 29 years.”
Hannes kissed Marieke on the cheek. “Bye, my lieffie.”
“Totsiens, skat. The Lord will watch over us…and He’ll watch you.”
As Hannes drove off with a puzzled look on his face, Marieke remarked: “I’ll tell you something, my child, a bit of a break every now and then does the world of good to any marriage.”