THE LAST SCORE Chapter 11

INSERT 11

NOMVULA

“Hey, are you okay?” panic cannot be missed in Nontobeko’s voice. I’m sobbing inconsolably and my body is shaking. “Please talk to me,” she begs. She has had to park on the side of the road. What started as a silent tear falling down my cheeks has turned to full blown gut-wrenching sobs. “Nomvula, you are scaring me,” her panic is getting worse. I want to tell her that I’m okay but these sobs just won’t stop. She picks her phone and dials someone.

“Nonto?” a male voice answers.

“Bhuti, she’s crying so bad and I don’t know what to do. I’m scared.”

“Put me on loudspeaker,” he says. It’s Sabelo.

“You are already on loudspeaker. She can hear you.”

“Nomvula, please calm down. You are safe, I sent her. I was busy with something, you will find me waiting for you. She won’t harm you, she’s harmless.”

“I…I…” a painful lump rises from the core of my stomach and clogs my throat.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything now. We will talk when you are ready to. Nonto, drive.”

“Okay, Bhuti,” she says while looking at me. She looks like she wants to cry too but she has to be strong, she has to drive us out of here. She takes a deep breath and reignites the engine. I shouldn’t have asked her to buy me a McDonald’s meal.

My eyes land on the McCafe cup that I’m holding and my chest constricts. I can hear my mother calling out to me from the entrance of my apartment.

‘Nono, come on I brought your favourite,’ she would say, her heels clicking against the tiled floor. She was an elegant and stylish woman. She didn’t need a special occasion to dress up, she was always on point and she emphasised that clothes have a way of earning one respect or disrespect. I would come out of my room, still in my Pjs, tired from studying and she would look at me disapprovingly. ‘What happened to waking, taking a bath and looking presentable for the day?’

‘Come on, I’m in my apartment,’ I would defend myself, already rummaging through the shopping bags. She knew that Watermelon McFizz was—still is—my favourite. One sip melts away every problem of mine but right now it’s taking me back to the memories I have tried hard to bury.

‘Be a lady, Nomvelo, just because books are showing you flames doesn’t mean you should let yourself go. How are you going to find a man looking like this?’ she would add as a joke because she knew I was restricted to partake in anything that has to do with dating.

‘Leave my daughter alone, Sphe!’ my father, always coming in later because he had to answer an important call would come to my rescue. ‘She is not allowed to date until her 22nd birthday and if men looked for clothes, we both know you and I wouldn’t be here,’ he would tease her.

‘What do you mean?’ she would fake ignorance.

‘I met you wearing your grandmother’s pinafore and unmatched socks,’ he would say and laugh softly. They would go on to talk about their first meeting and I would bask in their love while enjoying my food…

“We are here,” Nontobeko brings me back to where I am. I might be wrong but this suburb looks and feels like Sandhurst. I know because I have—had an apartment in this surburb. Memories of how I lost it all want to force their way back onto the surface but I push them back.

“Where are we?” I can see that we are in front of a gorgeous mansion but I want to know whose mansion it is.

“I don’t know, Bhuti Sabelo sent me the location. He is inside.”

“Okay. I’m sorry for scaring you earlier, I couldn’t hold in my emotions.”

“It’s okay, no stress,” she smiles.

Just then Sabelo comes out of the house walking alongside a blonde woman whose stride is timed, graceful and purposeful. I don’t know her, but she looks like she can eat the runaway and leave no crumbs. I don’t know if I should get down the car or wait for them to get to the car. Sabelo walks towards the passenger door and opens it. I don’t know him that much, we only bonded as mental institution patients but I do fly into his arms and hug him tight. He’s taken aback because he hesitates to hug me back.

“Sorry,” I say as I pull out of the hug.

“It’s okay,” he smiles. “How does it feel being out of jail?”

“I can’t explain the feeling, I feel like screaming in joy,” I say in all honesty.

“I’m happy for you. Please meet Astrid, my boss,” he says. I’m shocked that this beauty is into law not the beauty and entertainment industry.

“Hey Nomvula,” Astrid shakes my hand. Her handshake is firm, just like how they teach you in private schools. “A pleasure to meet you even if it’s under the not-so-good circumstances. I trust my team to help you. I would love to stay and chat but duty is calling. Sabelo is here and you are in the safest hands you can ever fall and land on when it comes to property legal battles. See you around.”

And she’s gone before I can even greet her back. She is one of the people we can say have a ‘strong personality’.

“I will also be on my way, see you guys,” that’s Nontobeko.

“Thanks, Nonto, I owe you one,” says Sabelo.

“Don’t stress about it.”

We watch her driving off and then Sabelo leads me into the house. The interior design belongs to Top Billing. It’s out of this world and the fresh scent of lavender, heavenly.

“Is this your house?” I ask.

“I love clients but not enough to bring them into my house. My wife would haunt me if I do that,” he smiles. “It’s a rented place. Astrid thinks it’s good that you stay in a house not a hotel. Hotels have cameras and we don’t know how far your uncle is willing to go to hold on to your inheritance.”

“Oh, that makes sense. Thank you fur taking the case, I once tried and people kept bailing out on me. I think my uncle paid them off.”

“Don’t thank me yet, also, I’m just doing my job.”

“Honestly, why did you take the case? I’m sure by now you know who my uncle is and how dangerous he can be. Why haven’t you bailed out on me?”

“You want the truth or a general answer that will make you sleep better at night?”

“The truth.”

“Okay, sit,” he gestures for me to sit on the couch. He sits on the other couch and faces me. “I wrote my resignation letter the day I received your case. I was ready to go out there and just wander with the wind because I couldn’t feel my purpose anymore. I’m telling you this because you already know me beyond being an advocate. My wife was my drive. Providing her with everything she needed was my motivation and her smile my charm. Without her, I don’t know if I want to continue working hard. When Astrid assigned me this case, she told me that it’s going to be dangerous. The danger part excited me, I need something to keep my mind off things and what a better way to do it than sleeping with my one eye open because some potbellied man out there wants to kill me?”

“You are brave.”

“Ngiyinsizwa (I am a man).”

“From the bottom of my heart, ngiyabonga.”

“Sure. Do you want to eat, bathe or whatever before we get into the case?”

“I don’t have cosmetics or a change of clothes.”

“I got you covered. I hope I got it right,” he smiles. “Astrid helped,” he adds. “Come on, I will show you to the bathroom.”

******

ZIPHOZONKE

I have read this proposal a million times and I still don’t understand why a man would be so nonchalant and insensitive when talking about his own flesh and blood. Why does he not want a relationship with his son? What kind of a father just throws money at a child and hopes that they child will be fine? For someone who grew up loved and cared for by both parents, he sure is a deadbeat.

“Can I ask you something and promise to respond to me honestly? Please don’t judge,” I take a deep breath. My sister is still angry at me for what and who I became after our parents died. If murdering someone wasn’t a crime, I bet she would have long killed me.

“Okay. Sounds serious. What’s up?” she asks.

“Sabelo sent a proposal through his lawyers,” I swallow hard. “The proposal has terms and conditions. One of the conditions is that I change Junior’s name and also I don’t communicate with him. He also doesn’t want a relationship with his child.”

“Okay?” she raises her eyebrow as if waiting for the real issue when I already handed her all the issues. She is not even shocked.

“You are supposed to be shocked.”

“No, I’m not. You are stressed because he doesn’t want his name associated with his son or you are worried that he’s not going to be your retirement home as you thought?”

“I didn’t see him like that!”

“I’m not a kid, Zipho. You thought he will fall for the trap but he’s not. Anyway, you said I shouldn’t judge. From where I’m standing, this man is prepared to even give up this child and I know a stubborn lawyer. He has money to go to courts, can sue you for paternity fraud even. This child calls another man ‘baba’ and knows that man as his father. How will you explain yourself to the court? Why did you hide his child when you knew where he is and when you were sure about the paternity of the child?”

“But… but it’s his son.”

“He is not denying that. He’s refusing to be manipulated and used simply because it now suits you. Also remember that this man has been married for five years. Any wife would be proud to give her husband an heir, I’m sure they were planning for it and wena you rock up at his wife’s funeral with a Junior? Do you know how emotionally damaging that is?”

“What do I do now?” I feel defeated.

“For once in your life, do what is morally right. He’s accepting paternity and responsibilities of being a father. That’s maturity on his side. Now, allow him to come to terms with all this and when the time is right, he will come for his child. You took your time, grant him the same grace.”

“Thanks.”

I don’t know how I feel, but maybe this is the best I can do for my child. His future will be secured. I have to find out how to go about removing a name from one’s birth certificate. I don’t have a lawyer nor can I afford one, I will just write back to his lawyers myself and hear what they will have to say.

******

SABELO

I can’t believe the amount of work I have done in the past five hours. With Nomvula’s help, I have a list of what Nomvula believes to be her parents’ assets. I can’t believe they had so many properties yet their child has been staying at a mental institution for so long. They didn’t have just cars, they had a fleet. They have depreciated over time but they are still hers. What I need now is to check with the deeds and Master’s offices to verify these properties and also to be sure about who has the letter of authority. A few phone calls will put me a step further.

“Did your father have any other children?”

“Not that I know of.”

“No one showed up claiming to be his child after his demise?”

“No. I don’t remember anyone showing up.”

“Any will stating his dependants and all that?”

“Yes. There is a will. My mother had one too. I know their lawyers, I just don’t know if they are still alive or still working at the same offices.”

“That’s perfect! Write their names down here for me, I will find them.”

“Okay.”

“I think I will be on my way. I’m not supposed to be doing this for a client but you begged me to help and Astrid is counting on me. I got you this phone so we can keep in touch. Please don’t post anything on social media or give away your location.”

“Thank you, I will behave.”

“Great. Just so you know, I can access the phone when the need arises. I wouldn’t want to invade your privacy like that, but I value my life more than I value your privacy. You have to work with me, protect me just as I am protecting you.”

“I won’t do anything to put you in danger, I promise.”

“Good girl. Here is my number, you can call me anytime you need to talk or help. And hey, cook and eat. Astrid bought food.”

“You guys are good people. Thank you so much for this.”

“Astrid is a good person, I’m not. I’m only doing my job so I can get paid. Tour the house or whatever, just don’t get bored and be depressed. Bye.”

“Bye.”

I step out of the house and stretch myself. I feel unfit, I must go back to the gym. I am about to get into the car when a call from Astrid comes through.

“Hey,” I answer.

“They are looking for her. The uncle is fuming.”

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