Obsessed with Me - When she rejected him, he set out to destroy her - book 1 (13 page)

“Calm down, calm down!” Charlene says and pushes past her into the flat which comprises of a kitchenette, a lounge, a bedroom and a bathroom and toilet. On a wall unit, sits a number of trophies and medals for swimming and rugby.

We all enter and sit on the bed. Even though there is a lounge, there are no chairs in the sparsely furnished place.

I look at Pixie. She looks familiar, but I know that I’ve never met her before.

Her blue eyes are large and dominate her skinny face. Her skin is badly wrinkled and pleated around her neck, her cropped hair appears to be sun-bleached and sticking out in all direction. She wears a T-shirt and a pair of shorts. I just cannot tell her age because of her jockey-like build.

“
Waar’s die foking whisky
?” she demands, bony arms on equally bony hips.

“Later,” Charlene says.

“
Jou ou naai
(You old whore).”

“This is Tanin,” Charlene says, ignoring her rudeness. “She is Tarago’s PA and he throws her in the pool all the time because she can’t swim.”

“What?” Pixie looks at me with narrow eyes. “
Blixsem
(bastard)!”

“
Ja
. Can you teach her to swim? Private lessons?”

Pixie glares at Charlene.

“She needs help, you
poophole
(arsehole)!”

“
Waaaat? Ek gee nee a fok nee
(I don’t give a fuck)!

“She will give you a bottle of whisky after every two lessons.”

Pixie swivels to look at me, her frown gone, her eyes glowing. “Whisky, hey?” Her eyes sweep slowly over me as she nods.”

Julia and Charlene smile. “
Goed
.”

Not sure what I’m signing up for, I am naturally hesitant. “I have a phobia for water because when I was seven …”

“I don’t care about your abc,
meisie
(girl),” Pixie, who stands just below my breasts snaps. “Let’s go teach you to swim.” She reaches into a glass of water on the sink, removes her false teeth from it, slaps it into her mouth, grabs my arm and marches me toward the pool.

“Wait, maybe…”

“You wake me up at this ungodly hour, you
will
get a lesson,” she says in a no-nonsense voice.

“It’s 2 PM,” I meekly point out.

“It’s
ungodly
!”

And that’s how my swimming lessons with a former Springbok swimming champ begins. We keep it on the low so that nobody in the house, other than Charlene, Chester and Julia know about my swimming lessons.

The moment the house is empty, we begin our lessons. Every single day, and as my coach, Pixie is rather dedicated to the lessons.

Strike that – as my coach Pixie is rather dedicated to her
whisky
that I provide after each lesson.

Any doubts I have about Pixie and her ability to swim or teach, is erased the moment I see her swim – she becomes one with the water and that in itself is lyrical to me.

She never fails to mesmerize me when she swims. And she is a great teacher. When she is sober enough to teach.

Whenever I head for my lessons, clutching my bottle of whisky that I pinched from Tarago’s bar, I have to wonder if she will be awake. After all, if she is sleeping, the hour, no matter if it’s day or night, is
ungodly
.

If she is asleep and I wake her up, I have to brace myself for the abuse she hurls at me.

Sometimes, even though she is drunk, she is okay to teach me. I get really worried for her when I see her on the diving board. She lets out an ear-splitting scream before she executes a majestic dive.

But she is clearly a functioning alcoholic as she keeps the pool spotless.

I meet her husband Naas who is responsible for the beautifully manicured garden.

He too can be found fast asleep during the day sometimes with an empty bottle of whisky lying close by. 

But they both are caring and have a lot of heart, so I am fond of both of them. I think they are fond of me too as Naas brings me flowers from the garden every second day, and Pixie – well, she offers me beer shandies and martinis and shots and Irish coffee every
morning
.

Which I decline as I the last thing I need in my life is to drown while drunk.

Imagine what my family would think if I did?

After a month of daily swimming lessons, my body feels toned and my water confidence is at the highest it’s ever been.

“We will have a big reveal one day soon,” Julia tells Pixie.

“Oooohhh! Everybody will be really surprised,” Charlene says.

Pixie’s face lights up and she claps her hands. “I love it. I love it. I love it!”

I am really happy to know that my former enemies are thrilled for me.

“And that day, I want to wear a bikini,” I hear myself saying. Did I just utter those words? Evidently I did, judging by the nodding from the three women in front of me.

Well, too late to retract now. They hold me to it.

****

Pixie takes me running. God, do I suffer.
She is so light, I can’t keep up with her.

“Pixie, you are like a fucking Frisbee!” I complain.

She shrieks with laughter and runs fast. “Move your fat arse, you foking currymuncher!”

Finally, forty days later, I’m ready for my reveal.

I bundle Charlene, Julia and a reluctant Pixie into my car and take them shopping with me to find a bikini.

“Where you going?” Tarago asks when he sees us all dressed up.

“I’m taking them shopping,” I say. “My treat. Or should I say,
your
treat.” I smile.

He looks at them again, a look of confusion on his face.

“We kissed and made up,” I whisper.

He nods slowly, a wary look in his eyes.

“Chester will be here to take care of you,” I say before we hurry to Bogas who’s waiting for us in the Mercedes.

I buy them a pub lunch which includes, as you can imagine, booze. A lot of booze. A ton of expensive cocktails and shots. They are not shy and they take full advantage of me, but I don’t mind.

“I like cleaning the pool,” Pixie says. It relaxes me.”

“I thought alcohol did that,” Julia says.

“
Hoe jou bek
(shut your mouth)!” Pixie hisses. “You act like I am an alcoholic!”

“What are you – a bookaholic?” Julia asks with a laugh.

Pixie swirls her Jack Daniels as she appears to give it some thought. “Nee,
fok daai
shit, I am an alcoholic. You’re right.”

“But she can swim like a fish,” I point out.

“And she can drink like one too,” Bogas points out.

As I catch myself laughing, I realize just how happy I am to have new friends. In fact, I’m amazed at the how my mood is altered with all the exercise I’m doing. I’m not crying anymore over Ashwin (even though I still feel sad sometimes) and the other day I caught myself humming to Jon Bon Jovi’s
Blaze of Glory
. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I now have friends at the Mansion, or at my place of work, I think sadly.

‘Sadly’ because I realize just how important friends are in life – they can make your life fun and bearable, or without them, life can be so empty and lonely. Like mine was.

If only I could get the three blondes to like me, I think to myself.

Finally, it’s time to try on the bikinis. Feeling really nervous about how it’s going to look on me, I enter the change room and try it on.

I smile at the mirror when I see myself. Have to admit, the colours looks great against my tanned skin.

Next, the opinion of my raucous and inebriated friends.

“Wow!”

“You look great!”

“Wow!”

Two wows? I’ll take it.

I believe my friends, because all three of them are the type to tell me straight out if I look like crap.

With their help, I choose two bikinis. Both similar to the ones Anneline wears – a russet one with gold metal hoops and some sparkly gold details on the fabric and bronze halter one that ties on the sides. (Anneline is by far the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in a bikini, so I’m pinching her style.)

When I go home, I start to prepare for the night’s reveal. Charlene and Julia are preparing for a party that night, so that’s when I plan to stage my reveal.

At 8 PM and in my room are Charlene, Julia, Pixie and Naas. I sit in my russet bikini feeling sick with nerves.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I say to Pixie as I hold my head in my hands.

“Oh yes, you can,” she says in a motherly voice. “Don’t strive for a ten, strive for a six.”

“But what if …I mean …?” I shake my head. “Maybe I shouldn’t wear the bikini
tonight
...”

Charlene grabs my hand. “
Kom
.”

And that’s how I make my way to the pool area. The secret is to act nonchalant. Okay, this I got to fake cos I really am anything
but
nonchalant right now.

The party is in full swing when I make my way to it, my heart in my mouth. Nearby Charlene, Julia, Naas, Pixie and Chester hover like anxious parents.

Chapter Fifteen

When I enter the party, to my glee
and
to my discomfort, conversation stops.

Pretending that I’m not noticing and praying that I don’t trip on my heels that I’m wearing, I sashay to the bar and order a Cosmopolitan.

After taking a huge gulp of my drink, I look around into Tarago’s face. Unfortunately, he’s poker-faced. No “Wow!” emanating from his mouth, no raised eyebrows, no jaw on the floor.

My confidence wanes.

After all, he’s the one person whose opinion matters the most.

But since he’s staring at me, I raise my glass to him.

He flexes his index finger at me.

Usually, when he does that, I ignore him and give him a “Don’t-you-flex-your-finger-at-me look. Today, I saunter over to him. “Hi.”

Even though he doesn’t compliment me, I see appreciation in his eyes and a deep thrill shoots through me.

“You gonna dance with me?”

I shake my head. “Nope.” My look screams bring-it-on.

He nods and looks at the pool, then at me.

“Wait!” I say.

He waits.

With a smile, I kick off my heels, put down my drink and walk towards the pool. I glance around and see Julia and Charlene. They give me the thumbs-up.

I nod and look around for Pixie. I spot her behind a shrub, looking like a garden gnome. She has a clump of hair in her hands that she furiously twists and that makes me really nervous.

But she nods.

I walk to the deep end of the pool and look at the water. About ten people are swimming. Then I look up and see Tarago watching me with eyebrows raised. Actually everyone is watching me now. I now know how a seasoned Olympic athlete feels when all eyes are on her just before she tries for gold.

After taking a deep breath, I run and execute a dive.

To me it went smoothly, but I will know when I emerge.

When I surface and look at Tarago, his jaw has finally dropped.

I giggle to myself. Mission accomplished and victory feels awesome.

I look around for my partners in crime. Pixie gives me two thumbs up, a huge grin on her face, while Julia, Charlene and Chester are clapping softly.

Thrilled, I glide gracefully through the water (I hope it’s graceful) and show off a bit. Tarago stands at the edge of the pool and proffers a towel. He says not a word, but the amazed look on his face speaks for itself.

Hanlie and Erika walk over and stand next to Tarago.

“You look nice,” Erika says. “I thought you couldn’t swim.”

“Hey, Tanin,” Hanlie says, “you look really nice and the way you swam – I’m so proud of you. Where did you learn to swim like that?”

“Thank you,” I say, treading water, ignoring her question and beaming inside.

“I will not swim in the same pool as a coolie!”

My eyes fly to the source of those horrible words. Suzette – I hadn’t realized that she was in the pool.

With fury written all over her face, she wades out of the pool, grabs her towel and glares at me.

All eyes flit between Suzette and me.

Some of her friends who are in the pool, also leave.

That’s okay, fuck them and their backward, racists arses.

Then, to my utter astonishment, slowly, one by one,
everybody
leaves the pool and I’m the only one in the water.

I can’t believe it. It’s almost like a dream, nightmare – I’m a little girl entering the sandpit and all the kids leave the sandpit the moment I enter because I’m not good enough to play with them.

(Later on I would learn that it was Suzette’s party which comprised of mainly her racists friends. I couldn’t have chosen a better party to gatecrash – what a terrible mistake on my part.)

Furious at their behavior, I am torn between the desire to adopt a to-hell-with-them-attitude and stay put, or run into my room and burst into tears.

My mother always says, “‘Ask your heart how does it feels.”

I look down at my chest as I question my heart.

The answer I get from my heart, who knows me the best, is …hurt, embarrassed and humiliated.

I look up and scan the eyes watching me. Sympathy in some, glee in others. I prefer the glee, not the sympathy.

What I really should do is ignore them all and just continue swimming. But I just can’t. I’m too crushed.

Slowly, I wade out of the pool, accept the towel from Tarago, wrap it around me and walk to my bedroom.

“Tanin!” Charlene calls.

“Tanin!” Pixie hisses.

I refuse to look at any of my cheerleaders right now.

I hurry to my bedroom, lock the door and get into the shower. I strip of the bikini and throw it into the rubbish bin. How can I ever wear it again after the awful memories it holds? 

The inter-leading door bursts open and Tarago enters the bathroom.

I’m a little taken aback by his presence and the fact that he’s seeing me naked under bright lights. After all, I always ensure the lights are turned down really low when he has sex with me.