Cherry Marbles. Shukie Nkosana

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ Oil Limited’s website,” Naledi said absentmindedly into the phone. Langa could tell she was reading about the company. She clicked the first icon. There was enough information on Regile to make you wonder if there was any privacy left in this age of technology.

      “He is good-looking, I must say . . . Let’s see . . . He’s forty-two, was born in Mpumalanga and is an Ndebele prince . . .” Naledi’s voice trailed off. After a brief pause, she resumed reading: “Attended private schools in the UK, studied at Oxford University, then went on to New York State University.”

      “He inherited the company from his father, King Mabhena III. It’s on the Johannesburg stock exchange; it produces fuels and chemicals and is currently constructing the Escravos GTL plant in Nigeria,” Langa read. “The oil company was the first to discover the Agbami Field off the central Niger Delta in 1998 and is Africa’s main exporter of crude oil.”

      “He’s the CEO of the company and employs over five hundred people . . . blah blah blah. I don’t see anything about a wife or kids,” Naledi went on.

      “Mabhena Oil Limited is merging with Sasol Wax and will now expand from petrol and diesel to petroleum waxes. The corporation will be jointly listed on the Johannesburg and New York stock exchanges,” continued Langa. Below the article was a picture of Sasol Wax CEO, James Davies; senior MD, Tshepo Mathlaka; junior MD, Andre Zanier, and CEO of Mabhena Oil Limited, Regile Mabhena. The picture had been taken recently at the Gallagher Estate in Midrand. Other archive pictures included Regile at a children’s charity in Mpumalanga, Regile with Nelson Mandela, even Regile with Salif Keita in Switzerland!

      “What have I done?” Langa said into the phone. “Are you still there, choma?”

      “Yes, yes, I am. Goodness, this guy is loaded! Of all the people you could choose to be rude to, you had to pick him!” Naledi replied, snapping out of a reverie of her own. “Apparently he’s single, so any ideas?”

      “Choma!” Langa squealed. “Firstly, this isn’t about getting the rich guy and, secondly, I’m engaged to Richard, remember?”

      “The way things are going you’ll be engaged forever! Have you two even set a wedding date yet? It’s almost as if you’re both stalling,” her friend countered. “Anyway, I like this Regile guy.”

      “Then you have him. Maybe then I can get my contract.” Langa laughed, logging off and shutting her laptop. It was all too much to take in.

      “Well, if Thabo got hit by a bus . . .” Naledi resolved with a snigger.

      “Got to go, girl; I want to beat the traffic madness,” Langa told her friend as she got up. “We’re still on for later this week, right?”

      “I’m game. Keep me posted on this Sasol Wax business; I sense some drama ahead.”

      Langa drove home, going over all the articles she had read on Regile in her mind. She hadn’t read anything about a family, although that hardly meant he didn’t have three wives and eight kids, with two of his wives heavily pregnant. After all, he was a prince! Passing by at Woolworths, she picked up some fruit and juice for the prayer group that came to her apartment on Wednesday evenings because she knew she wouldn’t get the chance to do so the next day.

      The weather had warmed up and as she drove past Mary Fitzgerald Square, Langa sighed contentedly and took in the Market Theatre and Africa Museum. The building her apartment was in had been an old factory. It was recently renovated into spacious rooms with high windows that overlooked the museum and a few nightspots. When she saw her twenty-four-year-old sister waiting for her at the guard’s booth, a small bag in her hand, Langa suddenly remembered she had meant to call Nandi.

      Chapter 3

      3

      “I’m homeless again,” Nandi nonchalantly announced while Langa attempted to unpack her groceries. Her sister chewed noisily on a piece of gum as she moved into the lounge to fling her bag on the couch.

      Langa cringed. “I was wondering to what I owed the pleasure of this visit.”

      Nandi appeared again, helping herself to an apple from Langa’s groceries and then flopped down at the kitchen table. Langa stared at her sister, exasperation already building up inside her.

      Nandi was the prettier of the two, with a cocoa complexion and high cheekbones. Her strikingly enormous eyes had a defiant fire about them that made older, perceptive women shake their heads.

      “What happened to the place in Observatory?” Langa dared to ask, drawing an unsteady breath. She suddenly regretted not buying the Black Forest cake she’d carried around in her trolley at Woolies, only to guiltily forsake it at the till.

      Nandi rolled her eyes. “The girls I was sharing the pozzie with got another roommate to replace me, and guess who was the last person to know? They fed me some kak about how I shouldn’t take it personally. Some friends!”

      Langa watched Nandi in silence before uttering, “And work?”

      “Well, I have this poetry gig I’m taking part in at Baseline for the next six weeks. Seeing as that’s so close to you, I thought I could maybe crash here until I make enough money to get my own place,” Nandi said in one breath, talking through a mouthful of apple.

      “I guess it’s the usual case of you only making contact when you need something from me,” replied Langa.

      “That’s not true!” Nandi exclaimed. “I do communicate!”

      “When was the last time you called me just to find out how I’m doing?” countered Langa.

      “Well, a few weeks back,” Nandi stammered. “Sure, I needed some money, but I did ask if you were cool.”

      Langa had to smile. “And before that?”

      “The time I didn’t have a job, I think. Yeah, okay, I was homeless then . . .” Nandi smirked.

      “Obviously the only time I ever see you is when you need something from me,” said Langa and sighed. “But you’re welcome to the spare room.”

      “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Nandi sang, doing a little jiggle.

      “Well, you can start showing your gratitude by making supper. I’ve had a hectic day. I’m going to take a long shower, then maybe you can tell me what’s been going on in your colourful life.”

      A dreadful rendition of Stimela thudded from the kitchen when Langa stepped out of the shower. She could hear Nandi singing along blissfully as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Langa admired her carefree nature, even though the thought of her sister living from hand to mouth unsettled her. She thought suddenly of Richard and realised with a touch of self-reproach that she was actually thankful he was away. Reaching for a framed photograph of the two of them from the dresser, she traced her fingers over his face and frowned.

      The picture had been taken at a Christmas party they’d hosted at Richard’s apartment. He wore a Christmas hat that almost covered his eyes and had a protective arm placed around her shoulders. Langa put back the picture, reaching instead for her engagement ring that sparkled in the light.

      Richard had proposed later at the same party where the picture had been taken. Langa had been as surprised as everyone СКАЧАТЬ