Back to Villa Park by Jenny Robson

Author:Jenny Robson
Language: afr
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780624058809
Publisher: Tafelberg
Published: 2013-06-13T04:00:00+00:00

7

Fat Sonya and Fatter Koos

Fat Sonya went wild when Dad told her we were emigrating. The speaker phone was on so I heard everything. She called Dad a coward and a Rainbow Chicken-runner and a rat ­deserting the ship.

“How can you deprive Dirk of his birthright? Of his inheritance? This is our country too. He’s a child of Africa. How can you take him away from his roots? Away from the sunshine to a bunch of islands where it rains all the time. And the people are all boring as hell, from what I hear.”

Dad got cross. He said it didn’t rain so much in New Zealand, not like in the UK. Then he started shouting back at her about the boxes.

“That Gerrit still hasn’t come to collect them. You tell Koos. They’re still cluttering up the place and getting in the way.”

That was just a few weeks before my twelfth birthday. And then just a few weeks after my birthday, that’s when we went to the Camerons at number 12. To watch The Lord of the Rings DVD. But no one was really taking much notice of the TV ­except Ma. And me, a bit.

Dad was going on to Mr Cameron about the blue-in-the-face man. Meanwhile Mr Cameron’s wife sat in an armchair in one corner, tearing tissues into small pieces that fell all over her skirt.

Dad said, “Did you hear what that idiot said? Back in June? Remember?” Dad sounded like he was really enjoying being there at number 12 talking to Mr Cameron.

Mr Cameron nodded that he did remember. He turned down the TV volume so he and Dad could hear each other better. That was okay because Ma was only looking at the scenery and I was finding the story confusing anyway.

“Will you look at those mountains,” Ma said. “And all that snow! And the sky so blue. Oh, but it is beautiful! Beautiful beyond belief!”

I was getting a bit worried about Ma and the way she was carrying on and on. Big-Deal Jimmy and his sister kept looking at each other and pulling faces about her.

Mr Cameron said, “Sure, I remember, Pieter. We whites must stop moaning about crime or else pack our bags. Right? Some choice, hey? Well, I reckon packing our bags is the ­answer. But some of the family thinks I’m crazy. They say it’s not so bad, that the media just blows it out of proportion.”

Big-Deal Jimmy and his sister went outside to ride their bikes. They didn’t invite me to come with though.

Mr Cameron asked how things were going with our New Zealand application. Dad said we were waiting for the letter to arrive. Any day now. The Invitation to Apply for Residency, he called it. Quite a few times.

“That will be one red-letter day. Then we’ll know it’s all safely in the bag,” Dad said. “I’ll let you know, Justin. I’ll pop over and show it to you. Mind you, you will probably hear us celebrating all the way up Groenewald Road.

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