colours so that you can see the diamond.”
“Don’t be such a cow, Mum, I can’t stay long and my ring is perfect. And it’s nice to see you too.” I felt the anxiety drain from my body. She couldn’t usually tell if something was up but sometimes, if it was very bad, like when I was depressed, she could tell from a hundred metres. Not that she would sympathise – she would pounce, rattle my cage until all the uglies came out. I was safe as long as she couldn’t tell.
“Sorry, darling, you know I’m only teasing.” She shifted her attention to my feet instead. “Are those sandals from that place in the Watershed where you can have them make what you want?” she asked. I nodded at her, settling into her couch, readying myself. I’d never been so happy for a Camilla de Angelo special G&T. Since Courtney and Chiara’s arrival less than forty-eight hours ago, I would no longer judge a G&T for breakfast; I don’t even know how I made it to three o’clock on a Sunday afternoon without one.
It came at a price. Mum might as well have pointed her beautiful new floor lamp straight into my eyes, so intense was the side of rapid-fire Q&A that she served with the G&T.
“How’s Dad? Have you heard anything about Violet? How are the twins doing?” Mum asked straight after I sat down, something about Dad always part of the interrogation. First time she was so direct about it, though.
“I’m going to see them for a coffee when I leave here. Why do you always ask about him – what about saying something about Camilla herself for a change? I think she is hiding a boyfriend,” I teased her. Daddy and Lucio were both right – it worked when I showed no fear. Did Mum look a bit nervous? I had some of Camilla de Angelo’s skills after all.
“Nonsense! I’m just being polite about your other parent,” she said, twisting the five-carat engagement ring from Dad that dominated her right-hand ring finger, “and I was going to ask how Owen is – can his feet reach the pedals on the Porsche yet? Or still a midget?”
I laughed at her. She can be a cow, but she’s a funny cow. And getting angry had never stopped her before.
“You know he is only two centimetres shorter than me. Is your boyfriend taller than me? Or younger than me?” I asked innocently, killing her next barb that would surely be about Owen being two years younger than me. “And does he have an Italian passport?” I didn’t want to talk to her about Owen or what was waiting for me at home. I had a few more hours free until Lucio filled her in.
“Nice trickery, Lilian Rose. Those are all important things to consider when you are going to have children with someone, you’ll see,” she huffed. “And there’s no one, thank you very much,” she added, straightening her back, puffing out her chest, smoothing her hands over the generous hips that I’d inherited. The top smaller and the bottom wider than we both liked. “I’m still on Tinder, if you must know, but just to see how ridiculous it is. Frankly, there is nothing for a woman of my age to swipe home about. Me, a cougar, imagine!” She was outraged. A bit too outraged. There was a boyfriend hiding somewhere, I was sure. I would find out next time when I could stay for more than one G&T. She needed at least two before she spilled anything.
“But your dad and Violet are fine?” She couldn’t help herself. Might as well have hashtagged “justchecking”. For his fiftieth birthday thirteen years ago, Dad got himself a midlife crisis, divorced Mum, and moved in with Violet, his Pilates instructor. Never mind heartbreak, Mum still loved Dad with an Olympic-sized torch in her hand. I would never let that happen to me.
I rolled my eyes. “They are the same, Mum. The twins are the same too – six, spoilt, and stupid naughty. All still carrying on in Camps Bay.”
“Okay, fine. Tell me, how is your practice going? Any new clients? When are you coming to do me? I was thinking it must be time for my next Botox?” I saw her frown; it clearly was time. “How is the wedding going? And Owen? Have you met any more of his family? Any of the men taller than him? Is he the shortest in his family? I mean, I can hope, can’t I?” I hadn’t told her much about Riccardo. Just that he was very charming and looked like a more tanned version of Owen. Nothing about him being an asshole.
We lobbed answers and questions at each other and made my drink last another forty-five minutes before I left, promising to do her Botox the next time I saw her.
Dad next – he would help me fix everything.
9
Parking my car outside their block on Victoria Road in Clifton, I saw their Porsches – matching black ones – in the cordoned-off parking area at the top of their apartment block. Level with the road, I leaned over the parking area railings to see if anyone was outside their apartment down below. Theirs was the whole of the ground and first and second floors, and opened up onto grass, only the glass balustrades separating them from Clifton’s Second Beach. I could see a little bit of the corner of the pool but no one was outside. I’d pointed it out to Kari once, and she’d said she couldn’t imagine that the people who lived there would ever have a day of worries. They poo just like you, I told her, even if their parking bays alone do cost a million rand a pop.
I waited at the glass-cased entrance in the parking area. Dad always comes up to meet me; we talk a little before we go inside and the twins demand attention.
“Lily, this is a nice surprise.” He hugged me, then pulled back but kept holding me at the shoulders. “Are you all right? Everything okay at home? Can’t remember when last you’ve come on your own on a Sunday,” he said, looking into my eyes. I reached over to kiss him, once on each cheek the way he likes.
“Yeah, some unexpected things at home.”
His cheeks were grizzly. That was odd. He says it’s easy to look good on a Sunday – everyone else makes no effort and they look like crap. All he had to do was shave to look like a million bucks. A little effort at the right time, my girl, and you are on your way.
“Owen? Better to know before the wedding, love. It’s not too late to change your mind, cancellation fees are nothing. You can do better, you know.” Oh my God. I must have sounded just like him when I talked to Owen about our honeymoon.
“I’m not changing my mind!” I did immediately change my mind about telling him my Courtney and Chiara woes. Something wasn’t right about him and, besides, I didn’t need to fan the flame of his anti-Owen feelings. Mum would find out from Lucio, but she and Dad never talked, so he wouldn’t have to know what was happening at home. “Just some pre-wedding arrangements I’m sorting out.”
“Hmm, all right. Have you signed the antenuptial already?” A little disappointment in his eyes, brown behind clear plastic spectacle frames I remember seeing at Oculus at the Waterfront. Little too young for him – must’ve been Violet’s choice.
“Yes, all done. We not going down to the apartment?” I asked when he walked towards the pavement, dodging a woman with a pram and a French bulldog. I love their apartment, and Violet always says I have a room there whenever I want to stay over – but, beautiful as it is, I’m not properly comfortable when I’m there. A bit like how it feels now that Courtney and Chiara are at home.
“Later. Let’s go for a coffee, at La Belle? Wasn’t sure if you wanted to walk so I ordered an Uber when you messaged to say you were here,” he said, eyes scanning the road crammed with Sunday traffic. “That’s him,” he pointed at a silver BMW slowing down at the kerb, hazards flashing.
I was surprised. Dad is a creature of habit. He always goes to Caprice in Camps Bay. He and Violet sit at the tables outside on the pavement, with her obviously being one of the beautiful ones who fit right in there. Dad is never one to hide his riches. La Belle had all the views of the Camps Bay strip, but its spot upstairs in the Promenade Building across from the tidal pool hovered over the bustle, gave a little bit of cover the further inside you sat.
“No Violet?” I asked after we were settled in the Uber, after the driver checked three times that we were actually driving the kilometre and a half to the café. We could definitely walk back, I told Dad. Silent-but-Violent Violet.