Mango II: The Return

Chapter Two.

Sunday

We were in the car on our way back home. We had left Busi with Khaya's father. He lived in an estate that had the best security on this side of Johannesburg. To say I wasn't nervous would have been an understatement simply because I was nervous. I was petrified in fact.

I didn't understand. After all these years how was he able to find out where I lived? It wasn't like we were friends in the beginning & he somehow remembered his way back to my home. No. He was the enemy and he'll always be. I had to worry about him, Busi, Khaya and myself.

I wasn't mentally prepared for this. Nor was I physically or emotionally. But if push came to shove I'd be as prepared and ready as I could ever be.

Khaya drove us back to the apartment. We hadn't said much to each other the whole car ride home. I didn't know what he was thinking and I couldn't care less. I had a lot on my plate and he was one of those things. I've never felt so hopeless in my life. Just sitting and waiting for Bafana to attack, simply because I'm merely just a woman.

I made my way to our room and just sat on the bed. No. I did not gently just sit on the bed. I threw myself on it out of frustration, anger and fear. I placed my shattered phone on the study table I had on the left of my bed. It was still in one piece but the screen was a goner and it was horribly chipped on the upper right corner, but I didn't care. I then lied down and looked at the ceiling. What a life I was living.

Khaya walked in and went straight to the wardrobe, picking out his business suits and a few casual outfits. "You really can't postpone this meeting? Cancel it even." I begged as my desperation began to rise.

"You very well know that I can't. I might lose very important stakeholders and if that happens then this business we're trying to build up for our kids won't go anywhere." Khaya said as he zipped up his suitcases. He then made his way to me and kissed me on the forehead. "I'll be back on Friday. You know that."

"But what I also know is that Bafana won't wait until Friday to attack. And you know that too." I was glaring at him now. How he'd rather go to Kenya and seal a deal rather than protect his wife really baffled me. Business opportunities come and go, but there was only one of me.

My anger diminished and was replaced with an overwhelming amount of sadness. "We talked about this. As I'm gone for the week you're going to be at Nkateko's place. He won't know you're there, so you'll be fine." He let go of my face and walked out of the bedroom.

I was left there sighing and complaining like a child. Nkateko was my best friend. We met in Woolworths when I was having a hard time picking out baby clothes for Busi three years back. She was hunting some cute items for her cousin, but she forgot about all that when we clicked. Ever since then we've been best friends.

Although she was my best friend I hadn't told her about Bafana and what he did to me. I didn't want people knowing. It didn't matter if we were close or not, I wasn't going to tell you. It was only Khaya and his father who knew. And it was going to stay like that.

My phone started to ring and I just looked at it. I wasn't in the mood to answer it. I didn't want to know who was stupid enough to call me because I made it very clear to everyone I know that I don't like random and unnecessary phone calls. This time though it could be someone who didn't know this rule, making me hesitate even more.

I picked it up and checked the caller ID. Before I could answer I yelled for Khaya who came in running. I handed him the phone and told him to answer the private caller.

"Look at what we have here. Pretty girl answering her phone, angithi?" Bafana's voice rang out before Khaya had the chance to say hello. Khaya and I looked at each other and I mouthed Bafana's name to him. He gave a nod.