Obsessed with Me - When she rejected him, he set out to destroy her - book 1 (8 page)

Entertaining the AWB on one hand, and donating to the ANC on the other – two-faced bastard? You could call him that. In fact, I insist that you do.

I’m quiet in the car on the way back home, but the blondes gaggle non-stop. Tarago keeps looking at me, but I don’t look at him or say anything.

The moment we get home, I go to my room and look out the window.

Almost immediately, he’s behind me. “What?”

I turn around to look at him. “Window dressing, right?”

He cocks his head and looks at me.

“You took me there for just for show, right?”

He looks up at the ceiling as if he’s thinking about his answer. “
Ja
.”

“Yes!” I spit. “Speak English. I know you can. I heard you today.”

“Yeeees!” he says. “And…?”

“And …you’re so two-faced – giving money to the ANC after entertaining the AWB here…?”

I put my hands on my hips and glare at him. “Have you no scruples?”

“Scruples? That’s a big word. How any characters?” He starts to count on his fingers.

“Stop that!”

He keeps counting.

I grab both his hands.

He looks at me and tries to suppress a grin.

“You a bastard, you know that?”

“
Ja
, eh, yes! Yes.”

I drop his hands as if it has scabies or something and take a step back.

“And do you know what your problem is? You are too hot. You need to go into the pool.”

I back away. “Don’t you dare!” I turn around and run out of the room. He chases after me. “I had my hair done today, Tarago!”

I run through the kitchen, into the living room, outside the house, around the pool, but he chases until he catches me then throws me into the pool. This time he jumps into the pool with me.

“It took me an hour to do my hair you motherfucker! And my watch – this is third fucking watch you have destroyed! And my shoes…aaaarrrggghhh!” I get out of the water and storm off once again.

“One of these days, you will die and it will be me who kills you.”

He grabs his throat with both hands and sticks out his tongue.

I give him the finger. He continues laughing. I give him two fingers.

He laughs harder.

Chapter Nine

My personal chauffeur is Bogas, a pleasant, black man in his fifties. He’s been hired especially to drive me around in a silver, convertible Merc SLK, similar to the one I made a piñata out off.

The sensors on the automatic gates to the entrance of the property allow us to exit without assistance.

However when we want to enter the property, the security guard, Sipho, a huge, fat, mean-looking, Xhosa-speaking black guy, has to inspect our vehicle before he lets us in. Basic security checks, which we understand.

Whenever I arrive with Tarago, we are immediately let in amid fanfare.

Whenever I arrive with Bogas, Sipho keeps us waiting.

At first, I assumed that he was busy on the phone or on the walkie-talkie, but after a while, it becomes clear that he keeps us waiting simply because he just wants to.

“Why is he doing this?” I ask after waiting for more than five minutes to be let in.

Bogas shakes his head. “A power-show,
Mejuffro
(miss).”

“Really?

“
Ja
,
Mejuffro
. He just wants to pull rank, show us that he is in charge.”

This goes on for a while, until one day we wait for seven minutes before he lets us in.

“Sorry,” he says with an insincere smile. “Was very busy with some papers. Very important papers. Veeeery important.”

“Mff.”

Even though I’m tight-lipped and fuming, I say nothing, while Bogas nods his thanks.

How I wish I could tell these assholes – Julia, Charlene and Sipho who I really am – Tarago’s wife.

Something’s got to change. I can’t take much more of this anymore.

I don’t want to.

****

Suzette definitely suffers from OCD. Before she uses any crockery or cutlery, she rinses them out in boiling water. Then, one-by-one, she inspects all the serving dishes and spoons. Finally, she inspects her chair before she sits, wipes it down, puts a napkin over it and finally sits down.

Oh, and she only uses the bathroom in her bedroom. Never the ones scattered around the house. She has a phobia for germs and anyone who doesn’t have a white skin. She refuses to swim in the pool or use the hot tub.

So, it’s no surprise that she will not break bread with me, a coolie. She’ll be seated at the table, but the moment I walk in, she’ll take her plate and walk off, muttering something to Julia and Charlene about giving me a different set of crockery and cutlery to use. Which I notice, they do.

At first I don’t give a crap, because it’s just dishes mainly, but after while, I have to admit that it sears.

I try really hard to dress my hurt in a coat of arrogance by muttering words like, “She needs to get with the times,” but behavior like hers can be soul-destroying.

The blondes seem annoyed with me and jabber away in Afrikaans. Sometimes they speak so fast that I have difficulty following.

“So, vyf, you don’t drink, you don’t smoke, you don’t do drugs, you don’t swear …were you a nun in your past life or something?” Erika asks in an amused voice.

“She swore the other day,” someone points out.

I glance at Hanlie. “So what?”

“Weird,” she mutters.

“And you don’t speak Afrikaans…” Anneline sneers. She’s got liquid green eyes, straight blonde hair, boobs that don’t move when she walks and she is tall and leggy. “That’s not on, you know.”

Again, I shrug and move food around my plate. Why can’t they just leave me alone?

I glance up at Tarago – he’s got an amused look on his face.

“What kind of a PA you picked, Tarago?” Erika asks. “Fuck, that stick up her arse…”

“She has, she has,” Tarago says.

I ignore them all.

“But she’s got nice tits,” Jooste says, his eyes fixed to my chest.

Resisting the urge to hold a dinner plate in front of me and hide my breasts from Jooste and his fixation with my breasts, I glare at him. “Do you mind? You’re being rude.”

Anneline jerks back. “Do you mind? Where did you learn to speak like that? Do you mind? Definitely not in Durban. That’s not how the currymunchers speak there.”

“For sure, for sure,” vermuelen says. “Those coolies – they don’t speak so good.” Vermuelen is in his late twenties, brown eyes, sandy hair and bulging muscles. He’s never wears a shirt and he’s only around when there is a party or immediately after a party.

“She was educated in the States, I heard,” Hanlie says in a scoffing voice. She jerks her thumb towards the maids, “they call her Miss America.”

“Hey, you said my name there,” Erika says. “Almost.”

Hanlie appears to think about it. Then she nods. “You are right. Clever girl.”

“Oooh, La de da then!” Jooste says. He looks at Tarago. “
Boet
(Bro), what was going through your mind when you chose Mini Ha Ha over here?”

Tarago appears to think about his answer. “I didn’t choose her,” he finally says. “I lost a game of cards. Punishment was...I
had
to take vyf.”

Laughter (among some table-slapping) reverberates around the room.

“Well, it’s a good things vyf’s not pretty. We don’t need any more competition,” Erika says and runs her hand over Tarago’s thigh. 

Tarago smiles. She leans in for a kiss. He obliges.

She is dressed in shorts and a bra with a fishnet top over her bra. In fact, that’s the way all the girls dress around here.

Me, I wear a short denim skirt and a white tank-top. I have little make-up on, but I wear heels. Mainly because I usually do.

I have to wonder if there is anything going on between the blondes and Tarago. What about the nights he doesn’t visit me? Does he visit them? Take turns?

When I look up, I look into Tarago’s blue questioning eyes.

Quickly, I look away.

Enough of this crap. I stand up.

“Where you going to, vyf?” Tarago asks.

I look at him.

He flicks his fingers, motioning me to sit.

Bastard.

Slowly, with my lips a thin line, I sit down. “Can you guys not call me vyf, please?” I hiss.

“You guys heard what vyf said?” Tarago asks. “From now on, don’t call vyf vyf.”

A burst of laughter again.

I get so mad, I get up and storm off. He can throw me in the pool, I no longer care.

****

As I lie on my bed, my mind drifts to Ashwin and the last time we spoke.

Before I could tell him about Tarago, my stint in jail and the ridiculous proposal I had received, Ashwin had exciting news of his own.

“Guess what? Got offered a job in London!”

“London?”

“Plus twice the amount I’m being offered here. Double pay.”

 “Wow! That
is
fantastic, Ashwin. Double pay, wow! From …by whom?”

“Tarago Jakobus – he made me an offer. Isn’t that something?”

I felt like I was jabbed with a cattle prod. “Tarag …”

“And …I get two plane tickets every month to fly anyone over to London. I can’t leave so they will have to come over to me!”

“Tarago?! Him?”

“He’s is like cool.”

“Just how do you know Tarago, Ashwin?”

“Ran into him a couple times when I was waiting to pick you up from work. We talked and he made me the offer.”

“Ran into him? That was no coinci…”

“How’s the perks, huh? Flights every month? And my flight is tomorrow.” He picked me up and spun around with me.

“Stop! Stop!” I cried. “Ashwin, what about us?”

“It’s just for a year, Tanin. You can visit me every month, so …?”

“Wait, wait, wait! Just back up a bit, Ashwin, Tarago Jakobus is just doing this so that he can get you out of the way so he can get to me. Can’t you see it?”

He stiffened. “You’re saying that I have no merit whatsoever and that it’s all about you? Not because he saw my potential? Not because of my …hey just when did you develop such a giant- size ego?”

I sighed. Nobody believed me when I told them about Tarago Jakobus and his vendetta against me.

“No, no, no. It’s just that …look Tarago Jakobus offered me a job – twenty grand a month.”

“Twenty grand?” His lips curled in an admixture of disgust and envy. “I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true. As a PA.”

He laughed. “A PA? Twenty grand? That’s can’t be true, Tanin. C’mon.”

Slowly, I rubbed my eyes. I felt like I was losing Ashwin. I’d lost so much recently that I no longer knew which way was up. Obviously Tarago targeted Ashwin.

I put my hand on my boyfriend’s cheek. “Don’t take this job, Ashwin, please.”

With an annoyed look on his face, he moved back and out of reach.

My heart felt heavy. “If I take the job, I cannot be in contact with you for …for …six months.” Lying was easier. Two years – I couldn’t bring myself to tell the truth.

“What? Why?”

“Security reasons.” I gave a couple of small shrugs.

“Tanin, your behavior is attention-seeking and frankly, I’m fed-up with you. You really expect me to believe that Tarago Jakobus won’t allow us to talk for six months?” His look was sneering.

He was so thrilled with his job offer that he saw nothing else, not even that something was drastically wrong with me.

I shook my head, then wiped away my tears with the back of my hands. He didn’t believe anything I said, so why bother?

“Tanin,” Ashwin said, his voice softening at the sight of my tears, “six months will fly. After a year, I will have saved enough money to buy a house and we’ll be really comfortable. I have such an opportunity right now and …like, I have to stay focused. Do what he asks of you and bite the bullet, baby.” He put his arms around me. “We can do this, Tan. We can.” He kissed my forehead. “We have our whole future ahead. Think of this year as a course that we’re both doing, and that once we have done it, we’ll be set for the future – have everything we’ve ever wanted.”

I nodded my miserable head.

“Look, I know that people say Tarago Jakobus is a racist asshole and that when he wants something he goes after it, but I only see him doing good things. He’s giving you a great opportunity too. Grab it, Tanin and do what it takes.”

I expected Ashwin to protest about the fact that we weren’t going to be able to talk to each other, but he didn’t. That hurt more than anything else.

After my conversation with Ashwin, I called Rheema and cried. Rheema was the only one who knew that I was marrying Tarago and the circumstances surrounding my clandestine wedding. I told her everything as I needed to tell someone. She could be trusted.

“Look, he’s probably envious that you are making the same as he will be making,” Rheema said. “Men are like that. Give him time.”

“But it’s so disappointing to know how little our love means. It should be top priority. How do I live without him? I expected him to fight for me, to ask me to not to take the job, to refuse his, but …I dunno – I just feel like somehow, I’m no longer a priority.”

“Tanin, just think in a short while, Tarago will tire of you and send you home, by then Ashwin would have saved for your big day and your life will be perfect. Everything will fall into place so beautifully.”

“You think?” I really needed to believe her. I really needed hope in my hopeless life.

“Yes. In the meantime, think about your mother and her treatment, your brother’s being able to study without the stress of fees, your sisters getting a proper education – look at how much you’re achieving! Maybe Tarago Jakobus is a bastard, but his silver lining is exactly what you need right now.”

“I feel like a prostitute.”

“Listen, arranged marriages, marriages of convenience take place all the time. For less. That’s all it is – a marriage of convenience.”

“Mm. But it’s scary. I don’t know if this guy is kinky or what. I hope he doesn’t ask me to call him daddy or want me to tie him up.”

She laughed. “Or wants to wear your underwear.”