Blindside. Wilna Adriaanse

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      “Brigadier …”

      He held up his hand. “Before you say anything, hear me out. I want you to know I understand how you feel. I would’ve felt the same if I were in your shoes, but I can’t allow you to take me on in front of everyone. Firstly, you’re forcing my hand and, secondly, I don’t want to fight with you about your dad. I was very fond of that man and I’m very sad about his death. What makes it worse is that you don’t seem to trust me. I’ll do whatever I can to find out who’s responsible.”

      “That’s not what I said. I just want to help. I know how many cases are piled on everyone’s desks. It’s not going well on our side at the moment. With the big boss suspended and more people under suspicion, the rest of us are working around the clock. I just want to make sure you get the information you need.”

      “I promise if I suspect anyone of hampering our investigation, I’ll tell you straight away. In the meantime I don’t want you any­where near the case. I’ve got an experienced team working on it and I have complete faith that they’ll come up with an answer soon.”

      “Thank you.”

      “I still think it would be a good idea to take a day or two’s leave.”

      “It won’t make anything better.”

      “I’m sure your mom needs you.”

      “She might need something, but it’s not me.”

      “I’m just saying … get your act together before you go back.”

      She frowned. “I hear there was a shooting at Alexei Barkov’s house. Brigadier Zondi is on the warpath. Apparently fingers are already being pointed. They’re quick to say our intelligence should have been better.”

      “By this time you should know fingers will always be pointed. No one wants to catch a ball of shit like that. But we can talk about this later. Tonight’s not the night.”

      He stood next to her car while she got in. “Look after yourself, and your mom.”

      She switched on the engine, but didn’t pull away immediately. “I don’t want to find out who shot my dad in the papers.” What she really wanted to ask him was whether he thought it could have had something to do with her, but she couldn’t find the words. And she suspected she didn’t want to hear the answer.

      He put his hand on the window frame. “I can’t make any promises.”

      She looked in the rearview mirror as she drove away and saw him standing motionless for a moment. There had been a lot of gossip when he was appointed her father’s senior and many of her dad’s colleagues had muttered about political quotas and affirmative action. But amid all the grumbling, John McKenna had put out his hand to congratulate Ahmed and assured him of his loyalty. It was the beginning of a unique and very successful relationship. Not that they had always seen eye to eye – for that, they’d been too alike – but they’d had great respect for each other.

      She put the radio on. When she heard the first sounds from her playlist she rolled down the window and turned up the volume.

      “Gonna close my eyes, girl, and watch you go,” she sang along with David Gray. “Send a little prayer out to ya, ’cross the falling dark.”

      At a red traffic light a woman stared at her and for a moment Ellie wanted to stick out her tongue. The woman looked ahead again and Ellie wondered where she was going with her cranky face. Heaven forbid she was on her way to a husband and kids.

      The lights changed. When she turned from Durban Road onto the N1 heading into the city, she put her foot down. The wind plucked at her hair through the open window, blew the words of the song away. Tell the repo man … you’re the one I love.

      “I hate you, John McKenna!” she shouted into the wind. She took a deep breath to ease the painful muscles in her throat. She accelerated some more and did not slow down before she reached the Goodwood off-ramp. She had just turned into Giel Basson Drive when her cellphone started ringing. When she saw it was her mother she considered not answering.

      “I’m nearly home, Mom.”

      “Vera wants to go, but they don’t want to leave me alone. You’d swear I was a criminal.”

      “I’ll only be a few minutes.” She ended the call and dropped the phone in the storage compartment between the two seats. She envied Vera and her husband for being able to leave.

      When she opened the front door, she found her mom and her guests in the sitting room. Vera had her handbag on her lap. Her husband, Pete, was staring at the television screen, where a cricket match was in progress.

      “What kept you?” her mom asked when she caught sight of Ellie.

      “I’m sorry.” Ellie looked at Vera and Pete. “Thanks for staying. Please take some of the food in the fridge. We can’t possibly eat it all.”

      Vera headed for the kitchen without a moment’s hesitation and returned with a stuffed shopping bag.

      Ellie walked them to their car and thanked them again.

      “What are you going to do with her? She can’t be on her own.”

      “She won’t allow anyone to look after her and I have to go back to work.”

      Vera seemed on the point of saying something, but thought better of it and got into the car. When they had driven away, Ellie stood on the pavement for a moment before she reluctantly walked back to the house.

      “Surely I can have a drink now? It’s been a hell of a day, and everyone has had something to drink except me.” Her mom sounded like a petulant child.

      “There are a few things we have to discuss.”

      “Like what?” Her mom licked her lips and Ellie noticed that her hands were shaking. “I don’t need another lecture.”

      “I have to go back to work tomorrow, Mom. And I have to know you’re going to look after yourself.”

      “I’m sixty years old and I’ve always looked after myself. What makes you think I can’t do it now? Everyone thinks he’s the one who looked after me, but he was never here. I used to look after you, you know, and now you think I’m an idiot.” Her mom got up and placed her hands on her hips. “You’re just like him.”

      “Mom …” Ellie felt the weariness dragging her down. “You’ve got to stop drinking so much.”

      “You make it sound like I’m an alcoholic. I haven’t had a drink all bloody day …” Ellie saw her mom averting her eyes, the way she always did when she was lying. “I’ve never told you and your father to stop drinking and, God knows, it’s not as if you don’t drink. But I’m the one who has to stop!”

      “The problem is that you battle to stop once you’ve started.”

      “Oh, crap.” Her mom turned and walked down the passage. Moments later Ellie heard her bedroom door slam shut. She collapsed onto a chair.

      Later, in her bedroom, she took off the black funeral garments СКАЧАТЬ