After The Tears Read online

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Acknowledgements

  Copyright and credits

  About the publisher

  Find out about FunDza

  Chapter 1

  It was a stormy Saturday afternoon. Busi sat alone in her grandmother’s armchair, holding her stomach as if to protect the baby growing inside her. The light was dim as she watched the rain pelting down outside. It had been raining all week and their shack was leaking. The bucket she had placed below the most rusted section of the corrugated-iron roof wasn’t much help. Everything was damp and cold and uncomfortable. The plop … plop … plop … of the water droplets hitting the bucket made it hard to sleep at night; that and the cough that racked her granny’s thin, frail body.

  Sleepless nights made Busi so tired and depressed that she could hardly concentrate at school and her marks were slipping. If she didn’t make a big effort now, she wouldn’t pass Matric. But somehow the weekends, when her friends were out having fun without her, were even more depressing than weekdays. It was not like they didn’t invite her along. The truth was that when she was with them, surrounded by their laughter and listening to their holiday plans, she felt even worse – like a stranger, even to herself. She knew what she would be doing in her holiday: she would be looking after a baby. Her life was about to change forever, while they would go on being young and carefree. No, it was better to be alone sometimes.

  Just then Lettie’s SMS popped into her inbox:

  Cum join us. Talkin bout matric

  dance plans

  LX

  Busi quickly replied:

  Nxt tym

  Then she pressed SEND.

  She was going to put the phone down, but she hesitated. Instead she started scrolling through her old messages until she found it: the first ever SMS she had got from Parks:

  Hey babe – had the best time –

  EVA

  It was strange to remember the thrill she felt when she first received it, when Parks was still the cool older guy paying her compliments, not the father of her baby. The SMS had popped into her inbox the evening of the day she met him, the day she jumped out of that broken window at school and he drove by in his taxi, Loyiso booming out of the speakers … and she had climbed inside. The beginning of their affair seemed so long ago now.

  Her heart still skipped a beat when she read it. But almost instantly she was filled with sadness. Her Sugar Daddy Parks – oh so sweet in those first months – taking her to fancy restaurants, buying her gifts, treating her like a princess. Why had he turned so sour and angry when she fell pregnant – even angrier when she refused to have an abortion?

  Now all she had were his old SMSes. She should have deleted them, wiped him out of her life completely – that’s what her girlfriends and Unathi had urged her to do. But she just couldn’t. Not yet, when there might still be a chance. For what? For him to leave his wife?

  Lettie had shaken her head. “Never. Give it up, Busi. Why would you want him back, anyway, after how he treated you?”

  Even though she knew it would upset her, she made herself read his last SMS. It still made her shudder:

  Get rid of the baby. Just do it.

  Then silence.

  The nice Parks who had loved and spoilt her had disappeared completely. Instead that horrible Parks was out there somewhere, wanting her baby gone. She was alone and vulnerable. If only her mom were here to protect her, not so far away in Jozi. Her granny needed protecting too. There wasn’t even a proper lock on their door. If Parks wanted to get in it would be easy.

  Busi looked out at the rain again. She tried to slip her cell phone into the pocket of her jeans, but she couldn’t do it any more, even though they were stretch denim – she was gaining weight by the day. The top button had to be undone now and she had to wear long, loose shirts and tops pulled down to cover the large safety pin that kept the zip from slipping down.

  Busi closed her eyes, and leant back her head. She just wanted to escape into sleep, to curl up under a blanket and forget about everything. She was beginning to nod off when the door banged open and icy rain swept in on the winter wind. Seeing her grandmother in the doorway, wrestling with a buckled umbrella and a large bag of groceries, Busi leapt up. Jumping over the puddle at the door, she grabbed the umbrella and held it over her granny while she stepped inside.

  “You should have woken me this morning so I could come with you,” said Busi as she shook the umbrella and closed it.

  The harsh wind cut into her face.

  “Come, shut the door quickly,” said the old lady, tugging on Busi’s arm with her thin, frail hand.

  A moment later the women had managed to secure the door shut. They stood facing each other, the young and the old, shaking off the raindrops. Busi shivered. The rain had drenched her in a matter of seconds.

  “The shops are far and you need your rest,” said Busi’s granny, putting down the shopping bag and walking slowly towards the armchair.

  Busi helped her grandmother out of her navy blue coat and plumped up the cushions as the old lady eased her aching body into the chair. Then she bent down to remove her granny’s sodden shoes from her feet and rubbed them dry with a towel. Her grandmother’s feet were gnarled and small. How could they keep walking the distances they did every day? She looked up at her grandmother with concern. What would I do if Gogo got sick now, or even died, Busi thought anxiously.

  “I’ll make you a cup of tea,” said Busi, turning to light the gas and putting on the kettle. She tried to control the wave of fear as she poured out two hot cups of tea and ladled in the five spoonfuls of sugar she knew her granny liked. Her granny was the only person she had right now. What if something happened to her? “Here you are, Gogo,” she said gently, placing the cup on a table nearby.

  “Thank you, my child,” said her grandmother, taking the hot cup between both her hands to warm them. Then, after a moment, she added, “Have you heard anything more from your mother?”

  Busi shook her head. Her mother had promised to come for the birth. But it was right now that she needed her. Her tea tasted bitter, like the disappointment that she felt.

  Her grandmother sipped her tea slowly and smiled weakly at her. “You must not worry too much, Busi,” she said softly. “Your mother will come. She will be here when the baby is born.”

  Busi looked away, frowning, trying to stop the tears from coming. Even my own mother is not here for me when I need her, she thought angrily.

  As if reading her thoughts her grandmother spoke again. “Your mother is my daughter, Busi. And I know her. If she is not here there is a good reason. Perhaps she will lose her job if she comes now. She is strong and good. Just like you are. You will be that kind of mother. Don’t lose hope. She will come.”

  Busi stood up. She didn’t want to hear any more. She excused herself, saying that she was tired and wanted to lie down. On her bed, behind her curtain, Busi let the tears roll down her cheeks. She closed her eyes and there was Parks with that smile and that look in his eye that had made her heart beat fa
ster. She remembered the sensation of his firm, warm lips on hers. She remembered the feeling of his hands running over her body, touching her most secret and hidden places.

  But then she remembered the nights in the sleazy hotels and that other Parks: the crazy Parks who had screamed at her when he found out she was pregnant, the Parks who had dropped her at the doctor to have an abortion and then driven off, leaving her alone. She could see him smiling down at her, then sneering at her, sharing a joke with his wife about what a silly little girl she was. And when those unwanted thoughts came rushing in, tears came too and Busi let them. She could taste them, bitter and salty on her lips.

  “You stupid, stupid girl,” said a voice in her head, over and over again. It was her inner voice, the voice of regret, but it echoed the voice of Parks. It belonged as much to her as to him. Where was he now?

  Chapter 2

  The papers in the street whipped around Busi’s ankles as she battled against a stiff north-west wind on her way to Harmony High. She bent her head and tugged at the large school jersey she was wearing, pulling it down over her trousers and the zip that she could barely close.

  When she went through the school gate a group of girls was waiting for her. But they weren’t her friends, wanting to know if she was OK after the weekend. No, it was Princess and her ‘groupies’ who seemed to be waiting for her around every corner, poking fun with their bitchy words.

  “Hey, girl, no one to give you any fun any more,” Princess said.

  “Nah, she’s given all she’s got, and it obviously wasn’t enough to keep him,” the other jeered. They all laughed.

  “Shame, at least she’s got something to remember him by when she gets lonely in the night,” Princess said. “A little baby that will make her fat and old before her time, so no one else will look at her.”

  Busi knew the girls loved to be mean to anybody they could get their claws into, but the words hurt her nevertheless. She tried to ignore the remarks, but the girls didn’t let up with their cruel teasing. “I hear that …” Zikhona started saying.

  “Busi!”

  She looked up with relief. There were her dear friends coming towards her. The girls behind her melted away. “Hey, you didn’t come to Asanda’s.”

  Busi shook her head. “There’s lots on my mind. I’m sorry.”

  “So you’ve made a decision to keep the baby, then.” Lettie’s voice was serious now. They were huddled together against the wall, trying to get warm against the red bricks of the school building.

  “Hayi,” said Asanda, frowning at Lettie, “ignore her, Busi. It’s not her business.”

  Lettie shrugged and added, “It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?”

  Busi looked up sharply, her hands flying to her stomach.

  “Oh, sorry!” said Lettie as she realised what she had said, “No, it’s not obvious at all, Busi. Not that way, I mean. You don’t look any different at all.” Lettie turned to Asanda and Ntombi, “Does she, girls? She still looks slim and ...” Lettie’s voice trailed off.

  Asanda and Ntombi shook their heads.

  “Why don’t you just shut up, Lettie?” said Asanda.

  “Yes,” agreed Ntombi, “you’re just opening your mouth to change feet!”

  Busi looked around at her three friends and shrugged slightly. “It’s OK,” she said awkwardly. “It’s OK, you guys. I understand what Lettie was trying to say.”

  The group of friends huddled closer to escape the wind.

  Lettie looked up at the grey sky and frowned, “And now I suppose it’s going to start raining in a minute.” She reached over and put her arm around Busi’s shoulders. “You’re really going to have to start looking after yourself now, Busi,” she said with a gentle smile. “It’s not just you any more.”

  “Yes,” said Ntombi, reaching out and touching Busi’s hand, “and we’re all here for you, Busi. I hope you know that.”

  Busi nodded gently. “I do know that,” she replied softly. “Thanks, guys.” But inwardly she knew that, however much they reassured her, they couldn’t know what it was like being pregnant. She was on her own.

  The group stood in silence for a moment, until they felt the first cold raindrops falling heavily on their backs.

  “Run!” said Lettie, breaking free from Busi and running towards the shelter of the classrooms.

  Asanda and Ntombi shrieked and turned away, putting down their heads to follow her across the school yard. Busi hesitated for a moment. She looked up at the sky and paused. Raindrops beat down on her cheeks and she closed her eyes, imagining she might be able to wash herself away. The school yard was rapidly turning to mud. She stood and watched her friends as they leaped over brown puddles, screeching and laughing and splashing. She could feel herself getting drenched, but she stood quite still and watched them as they ran away from her.

  “Busi, come on. You’re going to get soaked!” said a voice close by.

  Busi turned. “Hey, you.”

  It was Unathi, pulling his anorak off and throwing it over her shoulders.

  “Don’t worry – I’m OK,” said Busi as he did so. But Unathi had her firmly by the arm and was tugging her along with him. The rain had started to pour down forcefully, and Busi had no option but to run with Unathi, her feet sliding and skidding in the mud. She almost slipped, but Unathi caught her in his tight, comforting grip.

  “Thanks,” said Busi, giving Unathi his anorak when they got inside.

  He smiled at her. “You coming to the hip-hop session today? Some of us are performing at the end-of-term party.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe ...” She didn’t notice the look of disappointment on his face as he slung the anorak over his shoulder and walked into his Science class.

  Her three friends were already in their English class, helping each other to dry off their hair. They were laughing and giggling and chasing each other around, flicking water at each other. The sexy, handsome Themba came over and Lettie pressed herself against him before the teacher came in. They looked so happy together, so in love … He was a real catch.

  Busi slipped quietly into her seat and wiped her hands over her damp cheeks. She turned her back to them and their jokes. They don’t even notice me, she thought to herself. And why should they? They are all still so trouble-free. Why would they want to take on all my troubles? They are all just being kind. She leant forward and put her head on her hands, lifting it only when she heard the teacher come in.

  “Quiet now,” said Mr Khumalo’s stern voice. “Take your seats and take out your books. You have exams coming up. Goodness gracious! One would think none of you had ever seen rain before!”

  Gradually the class settled down and Busi opened her text book. Looking up she caught Mr Khumalo staring at her. She knew her grandmother had already been to see him. He had agreed that Busi could stay on at school for as long as she could.

  Busi held Mr Khumalo’s gaze for a moment. His eyes were steady and clear as he looked at her. There was no hint of a smile. His face was closed and still. Busi was the first to look away. She felt her cheeks grow hot and she fumbled with her pencil. She remembered sitting in his office, trying to tell him about Parks. “He drives around looking for young schoolgirls. I–he–” she had stammered.

  “Let me get this clear – you are telling me that you went off with a grown man on your own, without knowing who he was?” He had looked at her as if she was mad. She had wanted to fall through the floor.

  But he had listened, and told her that he would tell the teachers to look out for Parks’s taxi. It was all they could do. Then she had got up to leave. He had started looking at papers on his desk, and did not answer her quiet “Thank you” as she pulled the door closed behind her.

  She was jolted back to the present by the siren sounding for the end of the day. She managed to escape through the school gates before her fr
iends could catch up with her. She wanted to be alone. But as she turned the corner she stopped in her tracks. Wasn’t that Parks’s taxi with DJ Ganyani pumping from the speakers? She looked for the gaadjie in the back. But then the taxi pulled away from the curb. She turned quickly and ran until she was safely in the next street. She hoped he hadn’t seen her in his rear-view mirror. If he had, he would come looking for her, asking if she had got rid of the baby. What would she say?

  Chapter 3

  As Parks drove back up the street towards Harmony High he pulled his cap lower over his eyes and turned down the music. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself. The security guard was walking up and down outside the school. It wasn’t safe to drive past Harmony High any more. Word would have got out about what happened to Busi, even if she hadn’t told the principal herself. Rumours spread faster than a sex clip on YouTube.

  He needed to see Busi. He needed to know. Was she pregnant? If she was she would be, what, four months by now? When had they had sex for the first time in that Formula One hotel? The thought of her being pregnant made him feel sick. Why hadn’t she had the abortion when he had arranged everything? And how had Thandi found out that Busi was pregnant? His wife had a way of finding out about everything – it was like she was following him everywhere, breathing down his neck. Now she wanted to know if Busi had got rid of the child. She had warned him: “Another girl, Parks, and you’re out on the street.”

  “Never, again,” he had said, and begged for her forgiveness. “You are the only woman in my life now.” On uttering those words, he’d almost believed them.

  At the stop street he turned left, away from the school. And suddenly there she was, ahead of him on the road. He couldn’t call her; there were too many people about. Damn! He slowed down and pulled over.

  She was wearing a thick yellow winter jacket over her school uniform. If it were summer it would be easier to see if she was pregnant. But there was no way he could tell now.

  He watched as a tall, thin boy ran up to her. Busi greeted him and they walked together around the corner into the next street.