Tandia (74 page)

'Then you will come to the celebration in Pretoria? It is as much for you as is for me.'

Gideon looked grave for a moment. 'Hymie has invited me, but I am with some other people.' He switched suddenly from Zulu to English. 'Me also, I must go home with them.'

'How many people? One hundred, two hundred, your whole
isigodi?
You are a very big hero tonight, Gideon Mandoma!'

Gideon laughed, his marvellous white teeth showing. 'Three
abaFazi
and a driver! They are all.'

'Three women! Haya, haya! They are the victory gifts to the chief, hey?'

Gideon brought both hands up and covered his mouth, laughing. 'Only one is
isiXebe,
my sweetheart, Peekay.'

'Bring them all along then, you hear? Mr Nguni will be there, you will not be alone with all the white people.' Gideon seemed pleased. 'Thank you, Hymie, we will come.' Peekay touched Gideon lightly on the shoulder. 'The
iBhunu
was outclassed, you deserve a crack at the world title and I'm bloody glad it's you and not that shit Geldenhuis.' Peekay turned and reached for a clean, freshly laundered shirt which hung on a wire hanger from a hook on the wall. Gideon seemed to hesitate for a moment. 'Peekay?'

'Ja?'

'I meant what I said, you know, in the ring?' Everything hurt as Peekay turned slowly to face Gideon. He measured him with his eyes, just the suggestion of a smile at the corners of his mouth. 'Ja, I know, but you're going to have to fight a lot harder than you did against the policeman or you're going to end up with more than shit in
your
mouth, black man.'

Gideon grinned. 'Your testicles are two dead frogs, white man!'

'Already you have found three women to cower behind, kaffir!' Peekay shot back.

They broke into simultaneous laughter, Peekay holding his recently strapped ribs, wincing with pain between his laughter. It was obvious that Gideon knew nothing of the plan to have Dutch Holland train him for the title fight.

The party was well underway when Peekay and Hymie arrived, but someone must have seen them coming for the band struck up 'For he's a jolly good fellow!' the moment they entered. Peekay had to endure this embarrassment as the two hundred or more people present joined in song. He spent the first half an hour greeting people before he excused himself to go upstairs to Hymie's room to phone home.

Fifteen minutes later he came downstairs again, and it was nearly midnight before he finally found himself alone again. He was dog tired; the elation at being the new world champion was beginning to wear off and his body was growing stiff and sore as his metabolism slowed down. He waited until nobody seemed to be looking before opening a french window and slipping quietly into the garden.

Outside it was bright moonlight and he filled his lungs with the crisp autumn air. Peekay found himself standing in Solomon Levy's rose garden and he bent over a yellow rose, tipped with saffron. Cupping his hands on either side of the half-opened bloom he directed the exquisite perfume to his swollen nose, surprised and delighted that he could still capture the faint familiar perfume which reminded him of home and of his grandpa's rose garden. When earlier he'd called home his mother was unavailable to talk to him, but the old man had grunted his pleasure and told him, 'There's a good lad,' about six times, so Peekay knew that he was hugely delighted. Then his grandpa had said that Mrs Boxall and Miss Bornstein as well as old Mr Bornstein and old Mr McClymont, and Mr Andrews and Kommandant Kruger from the gaol - in fact everyone who was anyone and a lot of people who weren't - had called to say how delighted they were and how proud the town felt and that if he called, to tell him they wanted to be remembered to him. Peekay's grandpa chuckled. 'Georgie Hankin called to read me his front page in tomorrow's
Goldfields News,
it says: PEEKAY! MORE FAMOUS THAN JOCK OF THE BUSHVELD!'

'Mr Peekay?'

It was a young female voice and Peekay, surprised, straightened up, turning in the direction it came from. Standing in the soft moonlight stood the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. He knew instantly it was the girl he'd seen crossing towards the ringside before Gideon's fight, though now she wore a green evening gown, her perfect shoulders, the colour of new honey, bare in the bright, cold moonlight.

'Roses, you like roses? The welterweight champion of the world likes roses!' There was laughter and real surprise in her voice.

Peekay pointed to the yellow rose. 'It's named Macreadie Sunset and is a variety bred by the Macreadie family who, for two hundred years, created some of England's most famous roses. This one is my grandpa's favourite, it's a very old variety and goes back to George the First.'

Peekay reached into his pocket and withdrew the small pocket knife which had once belonged to Doe. He opened the blade, which was worn from constant honing, and bending over the rosebush he carefully cut the rose from the main stem. It was autumn, and he left a bud point at the end of the stem so that it would grow another branch to replace the one he'd removed. Then he expertly worked the half-dozen thorns off the stem of the rose using the side of his thumb, rendering it smooth and harmless. 'I suppose we ought to introduce ourselves, although I guess you already know who I am.'

Tandia extended her hand. 'Tandia Patel, I'm a second-year law student from Natal University and…' she smiled and added a little breathlessly, 'I'm also Gideon Mandoma's girlfriend.'

Peekay's heart missed several beats, though he managed to conceal his dismay. 'Would he mind very much if I gave you this rose, Miss Patel?' he asked, looking into her marvellous eyes.

Tandia laughed. There was an attractive shyness to her laughter, as though she was holding some of it back. 'Maybe he'll. want to fight you, Mr Peekay?'

'Peekay, please!' he grinned at Tandia. 'I guess he'll be doing that soon enough anyway.' He handed her the rose. 'So, what say we give him a proper excuse, Tandia?'

She took the rose and brought it to her nose, closing her eyes as she inhaled its perfume. 'It has a beautiful smell. You seem to know a lot about roses?'

Peekay grinned. 'I know a lot about roses, boxing, a little about law and nothing about you.'

Tandia dropped her eyes, looking down at the rose she held. 'Me? There is nothing to tell.' She shivered involuntarily.

'You're cold, Tandia. Come, we'd better go inside.'

'Oh, but I've disturbed you!'

'I can't think of a nicer way to be disturbed. Have you eaten?'

'No, I've been too excited…well, nervous really.'

'Don't be. I haven't eaten either and I'm suddenly ravenous. C'mon, let's go before Gideon comes looking for us. I've had all the fighting I can handle for one night. What I don't need is an angry Zulu warrior!'

Tandia put her hand lightly on Peekay's shoulder. 'Peekay, you were wonderful! My father said you were the best. You and, Gideon, the two best prospects he'd ever seen. He said you'd be world champion one day. I only wish he'd been there tonight.'

'Your father?'

'Ja, he was a referee, he handled your first fight with Gideon in Sophiatown, when you were just kids.'

'That Patel! The Durban referee? Why's that's absolutely amazing! You're Indian then?'

'No, half. My mother was a Zulu.' As though anticipating his next question she quickly added, 'Both my parents are dead.'

They'd reached the door and Peekay paused. 'I'm sorry to hear that, Tandia.'

'Ag no, please, it wasn't like that. My mother died when I was a baby and my father, well it was…a strange relationship.'

'If I may say so, they made a beautiful baby,' he paused, looking directly at Tandia. 'I mean that's strictly a professional observation, one lawyer to another, you understand.'

'Why, thank you, my learned colleague,' Tandia replied, dropping her gaze from his.

Christ, she's beautiful, Peekay thought.

Tandia was amazed at how relaxed she felt in Peekay's presence. She'd observed him slip through the french window into the garden and had decided suddenly to follow him. The decision set her heart pounding and she was conscious of the male eyes which followed her as she moved across the room. The eyes of the South African whites, slightly guarded, afraid to look at her openly and the looks of the Odd Bodleians, open and frank in their admiration. On the way to Pretoria they'd stopped at Madam Flame Flo's new house in the coloured suburb of Meadowlands so she could change out of her bloodstained evening gown into the green one. She knew she looked sexy.

Although Tandia had largely grown out of her shyness at Bluey Jay, away from home she Was reserved. At university she was thought to be aloof. Many of the male undergraduates fantasized. amongst themselves about her. One or two of the braver and wealthier ones had jokingly suggested to her that they drive the six hours to Lourenco Marques in Mozambique which was Portuguese territory, where no colour bar existed, and spend the weekend. This was always couched as a joke but she knew that the slightest friendliness on her behalf would result in it becoming a reality in their minds. The assumption underlying everything, of course, was that she was a coloured so her virtue would be easily compromised.

At first she'd been too intimidated to be blatantly rude and had simply remained silent, which had only made things worse. One day, when one of the more loutish, wealthy final-year law students named Lew Holt, who fancied himself and who drove a red MG convertible and played rugby for Natal, had been persisting for several days with the idea of a weekend away, she'd turned and smiled at him. 'You'll have to ask my brother,' she said sweetly.

Holt was obviously taken aback at Tandia's reply but, true to form, recovered quickly. 'When? Where?' he asked cheekily. Tandia could see his mind working. 'How much?' he asked again.

Tandia wanted to die on the spot, but the years at Bluey Jay had conditioned her and she remained smiling disarmingly at the stupid prick, though, if Holt hadn't been thinking with his one-eyed snake he'd have seen that her eyes were cold and hard, filled with her loathing for him. 'What is your question?
When
can you see him? Or,
where
can you see him? Or
how much?'

The law student grinned. 'All three, Tandia,' he replied.

He looked around furtively and then tried to put his arm around her shoulders, but she backed away from him, though still smiling.

'I'll ask him. Meet me at morning recess tomorrow in the main quad.'

The following day Tandia gave him a location on the old road to Umhlanga Rocks and told him to be there at precisely two o'clock. 'There will be a Packard parked at the side of the road. My brother will be the driver. Please go alone.'

Tandia had hoped that the silly bastard would get the message and not turn up, but Mama Tequila was right; the one-eyed snake is not known for its brains, and Lew Holt looked completely ingenuous as he carefully noted her instructions.

Later, around four o'clock, when Juicey Fruit Mambo picked Tandia up at the gates of Natal University, he gave her his usual grin. 'I see you, Miss Tandy,' he said saluting her, then, taking her books as usual, he opened the back rear door of the Packard for her to get in.

They drove off in silence, which was unusual for Juicey Fruit Mambo who was always curious about Tandia's day.

Halfway home to Bluey Jay Tandia could bear it no longer. 'Well, what happened?' she asked.

Juicey Fruit laughed. 'What happen for between mans, Miss Tandy. I not for you want to know dis thing.'

'You didn't kill him, did you?' Tandia asked, suddenly alarmed.

'Haya, haya, haya,' Juicey Fruit Mambo shook his head.

'Den de policeman he come. and dere be many, many problems and dey take me away and who is going to drive for you?'

'Thank you, Juicey Fruit. Maybe that will teach the bugger a lesson.'

Juicey Fruit thought this was very funny and laughed uproariously, as though Tandia had made a huge joke, 'What are you laughing at, Juicey Fruit?' Tandia asked.

'I tink dis boy he need a big, big, lesson for driving.' Juicey Fruit turned to look at Tandia, the whites of his eyes showing large. 'Same like Geldenhuis. I tell him, "Baas, dis car, it is very, very dangerous, look dere is no roof!'"

Tandia squealed in delight. 'Juicey Fruit, not his red MG?' Two days later Lew Holt was back on campus sporting his left arm in plaster, though otherwise he seemed unhurt. He busily told everyone at law school about his accident and about how the MG had been totalled coming around a bend at eighty on the old road near Umhlanga Rocks. It seemed he'd missed the turn and taken it straight into a large syringa tree.

A day or so later Tandia saw him ahead of her on campus and she ran to catch up with him, arriving breathless. 'Gee, Lew, I heard about your accident!' Holt could hardly believe his eyes, Tandia seemed genuinely distressed. 'Fuck off, kaffir!' he growled.

Tandia smiled sweetly. 'Still an' all, hey, it could have been a lot worse, don't you think? Only a broken arm? You were lucky, man. If I were you I'd tell all my friends about that particular bend in the road, you don't want them running into the same tree now, do you?'