a large black Alaskan husky bounded through the back door, leapt completely over the veranda stairs and made towards him like a rocket.
“Ah-ah-ah,” Tristan chided, laughing and thumping his thighs some more. “Sit.” He clicked his fingers and repeated the command. A little crushed but not thwarted, the dog obeyed, barking and wagging his tail ferociously.
She pursed her lips and folded her arms. Monro was trained to answer to only her commands. “Since when you taught him that? Look, don’t go teaching my dog all kinda kata-kata. That’s outside the confines of your job description.”
“Huh?” Tristan frowned.
“Am I interrupting something?”
Vee tipped her chin at Chlöe and turned back to Tristan. “Now go on and walk him, and don’t be taking all day about it either. Be back here by …” she glanced at her watch, “one. Latest one-thirty. And stay within the neighbourhood. What’s rule number one?”
“Unaccompanied little boys are like candy for paedophiles,” Tristan droned.
“Exactly. You already a paedo lollipop with that blond hair and weird eyes. Don’t be talkin’ to nobody in a van or a trench coat. Don’t talk to strangers, period. And rule number two?”
“Five blocks out is five blocks too far,” Tristan added, rolling his eyes. “I don’t even know what a block is. This isn’t America.”
“Don’t play dumb. I’ve told you a thousand times what our grid is.” Since she’d hired Tristan he’d been pushing boundaries, in the vain hope she’d either trust him to roam the streets unmonitored or forget the allowable distance they, his mother included, had established.
“Every square of buildings cut by roads on all sides, that’s a block. A big block is a city block. A small one is a residential block. You’re allowed to walk five of either and then turn around and bring your lil narrow butt right back. If you go past Rosebank, you’re too far out. If you reach Kenilworth Centre, you’re too far –”
“Ag, that’s not off the grid, it’s only four and a bit from this direction!”
“You got me?” Vee stared him down.
“Fine. I’ll just take him to the stupid park,” he grumbled. Like other small, clean and safe parks in the southern suburbs, Arderne Gardens off Main Road cramped Tristan’s style, but it was a setting they agreed on. He could at least watch Monro harass the ducks while the lazy security guards turned a blind eye. “Maybe I should quit, then you can quit work and be a stay-home mum.”
“Fineboy you want dis money here or not?” Vee waved the cash, half his monthly pay.
Tristan counted it. “Where’s my extra?”
“For what?” Vee ignored Chlöe, who sauntered to the veranda with a loud grunt of exasperation. “We’hn talk about no extra.”
“We so did! When I’m on duty outside of my normal working hours, that’s extra. I wasn’t on for today, so pay up.”
“Scram, you lil –” Vee lunged to cuff him again and Tristan sprinted, Monro bounding through the gate after him. “And you better get a haircut with that money! Mttsshw. Lookin’ like a ghetto Justin Bieber.”
“You seriously arguing with an eight-year-old?”
“That child gon send me grey.” Vee sank into a lawn chair and reached across the wicker table to refresh her mango juice. “You know he’s eleven. He’s small for his age.” She avoided Chlöe’s scowl and sipped. “So what brings you to these parts?”
“Don’t even. You broke every working woman’s cardinal rule and cried at work.”
“I damn well did not cry.”
“Damn near. And I know you’re gonna make Nico pay for that. The entire office is yammering about it. Must you always butt heads with the powers that be? Didn’t you have enough of that with Portia? You trying to get fired?”
“Who say I’hn been fired already?”
“Ag, rubbish. He hasn’t got the balls to fire you. We’ll drag his arse in front of the CCMA so fast.”
Vee hid her smile from the defiance in Chlöe’s pout. It was useless pointing out the Council for Conciliation, Mediation and Arbitration, defender of workers’ rights, was unlikely to weigh in on petty office squabbles. “Jus’ take it easy,” she said. “I am.” Barely. A vein of rage still thumped in her neck.
“Take it easy,” Chlöe muttered. “How can any living thing take it easy in this bloody heat?” Flushed and dewy with sweat, her freckles throbbed a more prominent russet than their usual cinnamon. She twisted a cascade of hair off her neck into a knot behind her head, moaning in joy at the intermittent breeze. Her face scrunched, unsure. “So … are we … ?”
Vee banged the glass down. “Hell no! This is his deflection strategy; pick a fight he knows I can’t win, then twist my arm. He think he free to be jerkin’ pipo all over while he screwing that fat-ass, muppet-faced bitch – screwing with me in the process, like I’hn got nuttin’ better to do.”
“Women can’t call each other fat anymore. It’s been outlawed by feminists,” Chlöe drawled sleepily. Her eyes bulged and shot up. “Wait, what?! He’s schtoepping Schoeman? See-ree-ahhs? You can’t be serious. I did not pick up on that one. My radar must be glitchy lately.” She swigged juice, swirled it round her mouth in contemplation. “Are you sure?” she pressed, then shook her head just as quickly. “Yeah, course you are. You’re always up on the stuff I miss, and it explains a lot. Damn. Sly fox. What else is he hiding?”
“He –” Vee quickly stoppered her mouth with her glass. Van Wyk’s personal problems were an open secret; the drinking, not so much. Pissed off or not, loose lips sank ships. And Chlöe’s were the loosest of all. Vee knew that between her and Nico lay enough animus to fuel a small HR war, but Bishop could whip it into national headlines in a single news cycle. “He gets away with these stunts because his minions dem all scared of him.”
“Hhmph. He is friends with Portia after all,” Chlöe snarked under her breath.
“Well, he can kiss my black ass and tell me the flavour. Who he think goin’ to some hairy buttcrack in the Karoo to write about mud huts? Not if I can help it.”
“Then please help it with all your might, because I do not do village.”
Chapter Three
“Ugghh.” Vee pressed a hand over her eyes. “I think I forgot it on the car seat.” She clicked her tongue, rustling through her handbag. “No, I definitely left it …”
“You need your cellphone? Like, right now?” her male companion asked.
“Yes. I mean no. Well, not no-no, but maybe.” Vee looked up into hazel eyes, easily picking out the teasing smile behind them. “It will be off. Because that’s the unbreakable rule of quality time.” She tiptoed, snuggling a smile against his cheek. “But it’s on the seat, the glass could get smashed. And in case Chlöe calls? She’s spinning all over the place right now. After today …”
“Oh
