Название: Banking on Love
Автор: Sibusiswe Dhuwe
Издательство: Ingram
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
isbn: 9780795706011
isbn:
Sibusiswe Dhuwe
Banking on Love
Sapphire Press
In memory of my father, who believed in
the value of an honest day’s work.
“. . .The names of those who in
their lives fought for life,
Who wore at their hearts the fire’s centre.
Born of the sun, they travelled a short
while toward the sun
And left the vivid air signed with their honour.”
– The Truly Great (Stephen Spender)
1
Quite simply, Lulu didn’t know what to think. In fact, she didn’t want to think at all. But it appeared she didn’t have a choice – Precious’s voice was floating up the stairs: “Open the door, makhi. My hands are full.”
Four years ago Lulu’s neighbour Cristobel, a youthful divorcée, had decided to open her house to two other women to share costs, and Lulu had recommended her best friend, Precious, a stage actress, as a tenant. It had all worked out, Precious had moved in and now they called to each other over the low wall or strolled into each other’s homes at will, happily referring to each other as “makhi” at every turn. The thrill of being neighbours had never yet worn off, but today Lulu found herself groaning as she heard Precious’s lilting call through her window.
Lulu grabbed a colourful kimono-style wrap that had been part of a limited edition, shuffled into her fluffy slippers and unlocked her door. Precious was gliding up the stairs, artfully balancing a box of what looked like pastries and a small cardboard carton holding two takeaway coffees. Her short, ruffled Afro shone in the bright morning light and her smooth golden-brown face oozed energy and good cheer.
From what Precious was wearing, it was obvious she had come over straight from her yoga class. Lulu left the door open, walked back into her room and threw herself face down on the bed.
“I brought breakfast in exchange for the lowdown on last night, makhi.” Precious breezed into the sunny integrated living area and set her offering down on the small dining table.
Lulu followed her movements in her head. It wasn’t a big place, so she didn’t need to see Precious to know every move she made. She knew the very second her friend popped her head around the door.
“Eh-eh? Makhi? What is this? Babelas?”
Lulu groaned into her duvet and grabbed her head with her hands as if to contain all the thoughts that were buzzing around in there.
“Worse than that, makhi. I don’t even want to think about it, much less say the words.”
“Yoh! What could possibly have happened that’s so catastrophic? I thought this ship was well on its way to a safe harbour.”
Lulu groaned again and turned herself over to peek at her friend through her fingers.
Precious sat down on the stool she had pulled from under the vanity table. “Okay, this is bad. I can see you slept with your make-up on. Uh-oh! I’m scared now.”
Lulu lobbed a cushion at Precious, making her laugh. “Oh, come on, tell me, I’m dying here. How did it go with Mr Moneybags Molefe?”
“It was fine, fine,” Lulu muttered. “You know how those dates go . . . We met up at Doppio Zero, had a lovely dinner, went to his club, had drinks, danced a bit, socialised with his friends, then he tried, as usual, to get me to go home with him, I reminded him of my rule, he tried to get me to break it and we did the usual persuasion-refusal routine. Eventually I got in my car, drove to see Dumi . . .”
“Oh no!” At this point it was Precious who covered her eyes and groaned.
“. . . aaaaaaaand . . .” Lulu tried to continue.
“I don’t think I’m going to like what’s coming next,” Precious interrupted. “I know it’s crazy, but the thought I just had is confusing me so much that I don’t feel well. I have to lie down, and the bed is just not going to do it.” Precious proceeded to stretch herself out carefully on the carpet at the foot of the bed. “And?” she prompted.
“Oooh, I can’t say it,” Lulu whispered huskily. “It still isn’t making sense to me.”
“What is it, makhi? You’re killing me here. Have mercy, spit it out.”
Lulu took a deep breath and shut her mind off from the words she was about to say. If she didn’t keep seeing the flashbacks, maybe the words wouldn’t keep making her feel like curling up into a ball of confusion and shame. “It was crazy, I don’t know how it happened . . .”
“Nkosi yami! I’m literally very nearly dead.”
“I-slept-with-Dumi.” Lulu’s words came out in a sudden rush.
“Oh! O-o-o-oh! Oh! . . . I don’t understand.”
There was utter silence. Only the birds outside remained unaware of the bomb that had been dropped; they continued to sing into the flat through the open windows.
Finally, Precious spoke. “But makhi, he’s gay, angithi?”
“Huh?” Lulu couldn’t think straight.
Precious jackknifed into a sitting position. “Makhi, you said Dumi was your gbf?”
“What? Mina? Hhayi khona!” Lulu also sat up.
“But you told me,” her friend insisted. “You said, ‘Nothing is happening with Dumi. He’s my gbf.’ ”
“Eish, Precious, here you go again! I said, he’s like my gay best friend. Our friendship wasn’t going in the direction you thought it was and I’ve never heard him talk about dating any women and okay, I kinda thought maybe he just wasn’t ready to come out, but I also didn’t want to make assumptions.”
“Well, you did anyway. But how come? You spend so much time with him, I would’ve thought you’d know by now.”
Lulu sighed. “Maybe I’m too close to him and well, he’s not your typical guy . . . He’s so particular about his clothes, his food, his surroundings. He loves to shop with me, he does everything in a style that I don’t see a regular guy doing. I just . . .” Lulu slumped back onto her pillows. “I just assumed. Oh, kill me now.”
“Why?” countered her friend. “Because you made an assumption or because you slept with Dumi, the best-dressed, most stylish man I’ve ever seen?”
“Don’t remind me. I feel like crying right now, it’s so weird and upsetting.”
Precious gasped. “Was it bad? Was he hopeless?”
Lulu tossed onto her side and clutched her middle as if to give herself a comforting hug. “Oh my gosh, I can’t explain. It was amazing! I’ve never felt so alive, and yet I don’t even want to think about it. When it was over, neither of us said anything, then I just kind of picked up my clothes, got dressed and left.”
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