Rachel Weeping (4 page)

The three friends strolled together to the corner of the street, where they sat down on the grass that grew between the road and the high walls of the properties. If drinking tea in the Jordaans' kitchen or having her lunch outdoors beneath the oak tree was how she routinely spent her alone time, then sitting on the grass on the corner of the street with Maria and Tapiwa was Rachel's evening socialising.

Like most domestic workers in South Africa, they were not permitted to invite friends onto the properties where they lived due to the security risks this access posed to their employers. The next best place for them to gather was on the grass outside the houses where they worked and they would sit there in their uniforms and gossip about the events of the day until the sun disappeared and they were forced by the darkness to return to their respective domestic quarters.

Rachel lay on her stomach, while Maria and Tapiwa sat in front of her, the fading afternoon sunlight warming them as they listened to the cars hum past. The afternoon rush was about 30 minutes deep.

‘And?' Tapiwa echoed Maria's question. ‘How was your first day back?'

‘They were out the whole time.'

Maria chuckled. ‘So it was good.'

‘There was a lot to do.' Rachel sighed, rubbing her tired eyes. ‘I don't think they cleaned the place at all while I was away.'

‘They probably don't even know where the dishwashing liquid is,' Maria said and the other women laughed because they knew the joke was probably true.

They were still laughing when they heard the electric gate to the Jordaans' property open and watched as Chris's Z4 stopped while he waited for the gate to slide slowly open before he could turn into the driveway. As Chris lowered his window Rachel pushed herself up so that she could speak to her employer. She saw Michelle in the passenger seat, her sunglasses shielding her eyes. She was looking steadfastly in the opposite direction. She wondered what had happened during the day to put her in such a mood.

‘Hey, Rachel,' Chris said, pulling her attention from Michelle to him. ‘I'm sorry we couldn't be here this morning to welcome you back. How did it go?'

‘Everything is clean, Mr Jordaan,' Rachel replied.

Chris looked a bit taken aback at the unusual formality, but the electric gate had finished opening so, raising a hand, he eased the car forward to get through the gate before it closed on him. While some of the electric security gates had sensors that stopped the gate from closing if an object was in its way, the Jordaans had opted to get one that closed regardless, believing that if they were ever held up, it would be better if the hijackers were unable to stop the gate from closing.

Rachel watched the car disappearing down the driveway until it was out of sight. Then she returned her attention to Maria and Tapiwa, who were both watching her, trying to read her emotion. The three women sat in silence for a few moments.

Then Rachel spoke.

‘She's pregnant,' she said quietly.

‘What?!?' Maria and Tapiwa both exclaimed.

Rachel nodded, but chose not to say anything more. They were all silent, their eyes on the road and the fancy cars driving past in a long slow line.

‘It makes me sick,' Maria said after a while.

‘What does?' Rachel asked.

‘To see you cleaning up after those people.'

‘It is what it is, Maria.'

‘I know,' Maria replied ‘but it still makes me sick.'

Rachel sighed and picked up a dry twig from the grass. She began to snap it into smaller pieces as she contemplated her situation. Maria and Tapiwa watched as she tossed the pieces to the side.

‘My purse is too light for me to be proud,' Rachel said eventually, as she threw the last piece of the twig to the ground.

 

 

 

Michelle strode into the house ahead of Chris, taking off her sunglasses so that she could inspect the place. First walking through to the kitchen, she saw that the mess of the last few weeks had disappeared and had been replaced by order and cleanliness. A quick stroll through the rest of the house revealed that the rooms had been vacuumed, the bed had been made and that the large pile of laundry had been washed, ironed and folded.

Finally
, Michelle thought,
a bit of sanity.

On her way back to the kitchen she saw Chris's tie and work shoes on the passage floor but she ignored them. She found her husband at the fridge, a beer in his hand. She watched him take a sip from the bottle and go over to the breakfast nook.

‘At least the house is back in order,' Michelle said as she opened the fridge to see what they could have for dinner. When Chris didn't answer, she looked up from the shelves and saw that he was staring out the window at the swimming pool as the last rays of sun bathed their garden.

‘You could have greeted her when we drove in,' Chris said, not turning away from the view.

Michelle closed the fridge and spoke to his back.

‘I didn't see she was there until we were halfway down the driveway.'

She waited for Chris to challenge her feeble excuse but nothing came. He just took another sip of his beer and continued to stare out the window. She watched as he set the bottle down on the wooden table and saw the beads of condensation slide onto the bleached wood. She pushed a coaster towards him and Chris turned his head slightly. Slowly he picked up the beer and put it on the coaster.

Michelle opened the fridge again and pulled out a ready-made Chicken Pesto meal from Woolworths.

‘Can I help?'

‘I've got it.'

‘Cool.'

Michelle heard the kitchen door open.

‘Where are you going?' she asked, turning quickly.

‘I want to test the water in the pool. It's looking a little off.'

‘Oh.'

Michelle went back to assembling their evening meal. For weeks now her body had been feeling strange, as though all of her senses were heightened and overriding her rational mind. What she could only describe as waves of saturation would move through her, leaving her lightheaded and, of all emotions, teary. She hated crying. She had worn her sunglasses all the way home, just in case.

The news from Dr Pieterse had not helped her already fragile state of mind.

She had wanted this baby for so long and, now that it was here, she wished she could be more excited about what was happening. So much had changed since she had first found out she was pregnant. She couldn't help but wonder if things would be better if the baby just wasn't there.

She couldn't imagine what Rachel must be thinking, knowing that she was expecting. The irony of it all had not escaped Michelle but for the last few weeks she had managed to push whatever guilt she was feeling behind a shroud of busyness and work. But now, trapped in a space where she would be forced to be still, she couldn't ignore the voice that was screaming in her mind, calling her name and demanding her attention.

 

 

 

Chris fished around the wooden shed at the bottom of the garden, pushing past spider webs as he looked for the testing kit. He found the dusty container between the chemicals and garden tools and took it to the side of the pool where he began preparations for the tests. Kneeling down, he scooped up some water from the cold pool and added a drop of chlorine neutraliser and five drops of red solution to test the PH levels. This he followed by adding another solution to read the acid levels. While he waited for the colours to settle, he picked up the indicator chart to compare the readings.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary on the charts but the pool was definitely looking off colour. Shaking his head, he tossed the test water into the pool and took the kit back to the shed. If he was honest, Chris didn't know much about maintaining a swimming pool but it was early in the season for it to be going this murky colour. He decided he would test it again tomorrow and hope for a stronger reading. If push came to shove he could call in a professional but something inside of him wanted to handle this himself. His father had always taken care of these things when he was a boy and he wanted to prove that he could do the same.

He was about to walk back to the house when a message came through on his phone. He dug his cell out of his pocket and saw that he had a friend request on Facebook. He opened the app. It was from Anja, the redhead in his office. He smiled at the fact that she had been first to initiate the connection. Not wanting to appear too eager, he delayed accepting the request. Instead he scanned through her profile again and saw from one of her photographs that she had just completed a hike in the Drakensberg with a group of friends – #topofthemountain.

He heard Michelle call out from the kitchen and saw her silhouette moving back and forth against the window. Supper must be ready.

Chris hit ‘
accept
', shoved the phone back in his pocket and walked back to the house.

 

 

 

Michelle woke with a start. Disorientated, her heart pounding, she pushed herself onto her elbows and looked around the dark bedroom. What was that
noise
? Frantically, she shook Chris's arm until he woke up, grumbling sleepily.

‘What's wrong?' he mumbled. ‘Michelle?'

‘There's something outside,' Michelle hissed at him. ‘Listen. It's like ... like screaming. Can't you
hear
it, Chris?'

Michelle stared fixedly at the curtained window, not moving. Chris half sat up and listened, trying to identify what it was she was hearing. Then suddenly he got it. He flopped back down on his pillow and began to pull the duvet back up over him.

‘What?' Michelle said. ‘Why aren't you – '

‘It's just the pool cleaner, Michelle,' he told her, sighing irritably.

‘Are you sure?' Michelle still seemed to be expecting him to do something. ‘I've never heard it do that before,' she added accusingly.

‘Of course you have,' Chris said, fluffing his pillow and getting ready to go back to sleep. ‘It happens when it gets stuck in the corner of the pool and gets too close to the surface. Just give it five minutes and it'll fall back into the water.'

Michelle wasn't satisfied with his response and kept glaring at him, annoyed that he was clearly not planning on doing anything about it and, worse, was about to fall peacefully into his habitual deep sleep. Already his breathing was slowing. She resisted the urge to shake him.

The screaming sound grew in intensity, the cold air causing it to travel through the house like a banshee.

She hated that infinity pool.

They had been drawn to the idea of it when they were looking to purchase a home but when the reality of owning a swimming pool settled in, she realised that they didn't use it enough to warrant the upkeep and hassle. It was nothing but a giant water feature which, if it hadn't been for Richmond, would have turned into a green cesspool ages ago. Last year they had even considered filling it in and turning it into a deck but in the end Chris had said he wanted their children to grow up with a pool to play in and she had accepted his reasoning.

Chris had fond childhood memories of waiting for his father to come home from work so that he and his brothers could swim with their dad. He looked forward to the day when he'd be doing the same with his children. Chris's childhood summers had always been lived out in close proximity to an urban body of water. He told Michelle he'd be a selfish man if he got rid of theirs and deprived their future children just because it was proving to be hard work.

Michelle closed her eyes and waited for sleep to return, trying to push the awful sound from her mind.

 

 

 

Rachel lay in her bed, hugging the pillow to her stomach, wishing she could fall asleep. No matter how tightly she held onto the pillow, it still did not fill the space that Maia's small beating heart had once fit so perfectly.

The pool cleaner was stuck again. The shrill sucking, shrieking sound rang in her ears.

Maia had been gone for over six weeks and every night Rachel had woken up expecting to feel her child in front of her, Maia's shallow breathing pushing her back against Rachel's chest. It was the only moment Rachel lived for now, the one when, for the few seconds between sleeping and waking, her heart believed that Maia was still alive. It was in that space, before reason told her otherwise, that she felt complete. But then her brain would stir from its slumber and remind her of the truth, the truth that the child that she had created, the person who had grown inside of her, was gone forever.

She pushed her face deep into the pillow and began to weep, bottomless cries that mixed with the wailing from the garden and faded into the cold night.

 

chapter 4

Rachel, Maria and
Tapiwa were sitting on the pavement, finding relief from the summer heat in the shade of a mulberry tree as they sorted through the bag of clothes Michelle had given Rachel. They had collected a few of the sweet purple berries and were enjoying the snack while trying to keep the scarlet juice from staining their clothes. Maria held one of the shirts against her chest; it was clearly too small for her.

‘Designer, neh?'

Tapiwa laughed. Rachel sat back while her friends made their selections from the bag, depleting the stock quickly.

‘Take something for Rita as well,' Rachel said, popping a mulberry into her mouth.

‘Shame, she's lucky she's still here,' said Maria. She began to fan her face with a newspaper pamphlet that was advertising weekend specials at Game supermarket. ‘They are becoming stricter on the Mozambicans now, do you know that, Rachel? They wanted a stamped letter from the Elliotts to say she works and lives with them.'

‘How long did they give her?' Rachel asked.

‘Six months.'

The women sat in contemplative silence for a few moments, eating their mulberries, hardly noticing the expensive cars of their neighbours driving past them.

‘Rebecca was sent back last week,' Tapiwa said. ‘The people she worked for moved to Cape Town and she couldn't find work before her visa ran out. The SAPD did a raid on the taxi rank she was at and when they saw that her papers had expired they put her in the van. Two days later she was at the border.'

‘What?' Maria exclaimed. ‘Didn't they give her a chance to get her stuff?'

Tapiwa shook her head and Maria muttered something under her breath in Chichewa.

‘Where is her family?' Rachel asked.

‘Inhassoro.'

‘That is where my parents live. Things have not been good there for a long time.'

Rachel looked down at her cellphone and, when she saw the time, clambered to her feet and dusted the grass from her uniform.

‘I need to go fetch Maia.'

‘How is she doing at the rich school?' Maria chuckled.

‘She's too young to understand.' Rachel smiled as she stretched. ‘Shame, she tells them all about “our big house with the swimming pool” and how she's going to have a mermaid party for her birthday.'

‘What's a mermaid?' Maria asked.

Rachel shrugged. ‘Some girl who lives underneath the water, from the stories that the white people tell their children. She wants to learn to swim because of this mermaid thing now.'

Maria and Tapiwa laughed at the idea and they began to gather their things. The clock was telling them that they, too, needed to get back to work.

‘God blessed you with a good family to work for,' Tapiwa said. ‘You're the only maid I know whose boss pays for her child's school.'

Rachel pulled a face. ‘Well, if you see the mess I have to clean up, you'd think they'd send her to university as well.'

The women went their separate ways and Rachel hurried to the side gate of the Jordaans' property. In her room she quickly changed out of her maid's uniform into the jeans and blue shirt she'd inherited from another of Michelle's clear-outs. She left the house at a pace that wouldn't have her drenched in sweat when she arrived at Maia's nursery school.

Where Maia had no idea that she was any different from the other boys and girls at Jollyjammers, Rachel did. That was why she never went to pick her daughter up in her maid's uniform. Like Father Christmas or the Easter Bunny for her white friends, Rachel wanted Maia to believe this fantasy for as long as she possibly could. She knew things would be different for Maia if the other mothers saw her as ‘the maid's child'. And she'd be lying to herself if she didn't admit that it was good to be looked at as a person by the kind of people who usually only saw her as a function.

Rachel reached the nursery school ten minutes after the collection time, a strategy which she used to keep her from having to get too close to the other mothers. Conversations would lead to questions and questions would lead to the truth and, while she didn't want to be part of their world, she wanted them to think that she was.

‘Look, Mama!'

Rachel followed the sound of Maia's voice and saw the little girl running from the school gate towards her, the pink backpack on her shoulders rocking back and forth. She knelt down to hug her and Maia jumped into her arms, excited to show her mother what she had in her hands.

It was a Barbie doll, like the one on Maia's backpack, with long blonde hair and bright blue eyes, but instead of slim, long legs this one had a fish's body that sparkled with blue and green scales, although closer inspection showed that some of the sparkle had worn off from handling. Rachel sighed and took the doll from Maia as she straightened up.

‘You know you can't take the toys from school home with you,' she said.

‘But it's not from school, Mama!' Maia protested. ‘Abigail gave it to me!'

‘Come, let's take it back.'

‘But it's mine!'

Not in the mood for tall tales, Rachel took Maia by the hand and walked back to the entrance of the school so that she could return the doll to the teacher. She was halfway there when Monique, a living replica of the doll Rachel was carrying, except for the tail, of course, approached her with her matching daughter, Abigail.

‘Rachel!' Monique stepped forward to kiss her on the cheek, a greeting that was awkwardly returned by Rachel. ‘It's so good to see you again.'

‘Hello, Monique,' said Rachel. She held the doll up. ‘Does this belong to Abigail? It seems that Maia thinks she gave it to her.'

‘That's because she did,' Monique said as she smiled and looked down at Abigail proudly. ‘She has so many Barbies and when Maia told her she didn't even have one, she said she wanted to give her one of hers. We're trying to teach the children about generosity, so it looks like it's working.' She gave a small laugh.

Then, before Rachel had a chance to respond, Monique reached into her handbag and pulled out a brightly coloured piece of paper with Maia's name written on it in glitter glue.

‘This is an invite to Abigail's birthday party next week,' Monique said as she passed it to Rachel. ‘We're really hoping Maia can make it.'

‘It's a
Frozen
party!' Maia explained, her eyes shining with excitement. She grabbed the invitation from her mother's hand before Rachel could ask what a frozen party was, although she did have a vague idea. A strange obsession with all things wintry seemed to have swept the nation since the release of the animated film and now every little girl wanted to have a dress-up party in honour of the movie. Added to this was the incessant singing of the theme song which, while it had started off as something cute, had grown into an unbearable cacophony of little girls' voices. Maia hadn't been immune.

Rachel looked down at her daughter, who couldn't seem to keep still, and then back up at Monique. She was amazed at how much her daughter's personality changed when she was around the children from school. Where usually she was obedient and pleasant, she transformed into a needy, whiny little girl who threw tantrums when she didn't get her way.

‘It's at Papachinos,' Monique said, ‘that child-friendly place in Bryanston? Have you been there?'

‘Not yet,' Rachel replied. ‘I've heard it's great, though.'

‘I'm just glad that we don't have to sit in a Spur or a Mike's Kitchen any more. Remember how those used to be the only places you could go if you had kids and wanted to go out for a meal?' Monique rolled her eyes.

Rachel smiled and nodded, placing her hand firmly on Maia's shoulder.

‘We will definitely try our best to be there,' she said.

‘We've also got someone to look after the children so that us moms can have a bit of a party as well,' Monique added with a wink.

‘Thank you,' Rachel said. ‘We've got to go now but I'll let you know by the end of the week.'

Monique spotted another mom to deliver an invitation to and, grabbing Abigail by the hand, she darted off, calling out a greeting as she went. Rachel handed the doll back to Maia. She wondered whether she should talk to her about her views on accepting gifts from her friends at school but decided it could wait for another time.

Instead she took Maia's backpack from her and the two of them began their slow walk home through the quiet suburban streets filled with the lazy buzz of cicadas. The occasional car drove past them but, for the most part, the streets belonged to them that day.

‘Abigail had her birthday circle today,' Maia said, barely looking up as she stroked the hair of her new Barbie, ‘and her mommy brought blue
Frozen
cupcakes for the whole class.'

‘That's nice, my girl.'

‘Can you bring cupcakes for my birthday circle?'

‘I'm sure I can,' Rachel replied, too tired to give Maia a response that would inspire an argument.

‘
Blue
ones?'

Rachel smiled and nodded, switching the backpack to her other hand.

Maia squealed in excitement. ‘Wait, Mama,' she said, holding the doll up for Rachel to take. Then she pulled off her jersey and, her face solemn in concentration, placed the neck of it around the crown of her head. Rachel waited and watched, trying to work out what Maia was doing. When she had finished her adjustments, Maia brushed the jersey out and looked up at Rachel with a big smile on her face.

‘Look, Mama!' she said triumphantly. ‘Long hair like a princess!'

Rachel couldn't hold back her smile and she laughed out loud as Maia flicked her ‘hair' around, combing the folds of cloth with her small brown fingers as though they were strands of hair. Maia laughed, too, as she ran around her mother, singing the theme song from
Frozen
in her sweet high voice.

‘Come, you silly thing,' Rachel said finally, taking Maia by the hand. ‘You may be a princess but this maid needs to get back to work.'