A Conspiracy of Mothers by van Niekerk Colleen

Author:van Niekerk, Colleen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Little A
Published: 2021-09-30T16:00:00+00:00

YOLANDA

There’s no sign of anything criminal.” The policeman looked down at his shoes as he spoke. “There isn’t really anything we can do, you see, in such a case.”

Seated between her brothers in Rachel’s living room, Yolanda guessed that, at some level, the man knew the ramifications of what he was saying.

“What do you mean, ‘such a case’?” Philip’s deep frown matched the flintiness of his tone.

“Mr. Petersen, it looks like your mother left of her own free will. She’s not a minor; she can go wherever she wants.”

Yolanda stalled the inevitable explosion from her eldest brother. “What about Table Mountain?” she asked. “She used to spend a lot of time there, even when I was a girl.”

“Lady, we already heard that she likes going for walks and things. We worked with the rangers to comb the usual areas. There’s no sign of her. And her car, it isn’t in any of the parking areas, so now we really looking for a needle in a haystack.”

Philip straightened up. Mark sighed deeply. Yolanda wasn’t in the mood for the showdown. She excused herself and retreated to the yard with a cigarette. She willed Rachel’s voice into her mind, seeking guidance, assurance, answers. But there were none, and the absolute silence that came instead felt like brushing a raw wound.

The policeman was right: all of them were seeing what they wanted and not what was. Their mother had walked away. It was the truth, Yolanda sensed, but there was more. A creeping dread pointed to things at play that none of them could discern, not yet.

Though she was staying at Mark’s house, he’d said nothing about Rachel beyond the obvious. Their chatter had focused on his family, on Yolanda’s return and her life abroad. She had said nothing of the voice that had beckoned her back. It sat lodged in that private space between mothers and daughters.

She had returned to Rachel’s council house with Mark earlier in the day. People from a long-ago life who had heard of her return had crammed the house with curiosity and goodwill. To keep the peace, Philip had sheathed his sword, and so had she.

But where was Ingrid? Friday had passed with no calls, no visit, and now it was Saturday. She must have heard about Yolanda’s return, even without a telephone at her apartment. And surely Rachel’s absence was a concern for her? Minute by minute, Yolanda had sat, waiting, wanting their reunion to be here, in this house, this kitchen. But that moment had not yet come to pass. There was no indication that it would. She would have to force it. Having decided on an altered story of exile, one that obfuscated the worst truths, Yolanda resolved to go to Ingrid’s apartment in the evening. She needed to see with her own eyes that her daughter was OK; she needed her girl’s presence to balance the leaden weight of Rachel’s absence.

Mark joined her in the yard, shaking his head. She heard Philip’s voice thunder from the living room.

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