The Case Against Fili Du Bois by Barbara Mutch

Author:Barbara Mutch [Mutch, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Barbara Mutch UK Limited
Published: 2024-05-02T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

"Fili," murmured Dad later, as the tea cups were being gathered up, "I'm going to drive your grandmother home and stay with her a while. Will you walk back with Bo?"

"Yes, of course," I glanced across the room to where Bo was entertaining a young Sammy cousin.

"Wonderful tea, Shenay," Dad stood up, "especially your shortbread. But we must get back."

"I know, sir," nodded Shenay with a glance at Grand-mère. "The ou missus needs her rest."

Grand-mère hobbled over to shake Philemon's hand and then embraced Shenay by the front door. "Thank you, Shenay dear. You and Philemon are our most loyal partners."

"Always, Ma'am."

I watched from the doorway as Dad led Grand-mère to the car. He helped her in, fastened her seatbelt and waved to me. They jolted down the road. I looked back at the crowded sitting room. It seemed that the entire village had stopped by for the chance to pay their respects to Grand-mère in person. But now that she and Dad had left, they were about to get started on the consequences of our visit. No-one would notice if I slipped away.

The sun was burning through the morning dampness as I set off. The mountains, hidden earlier, carved an unbroken line against a sky streaked with high level cirrus. A light breeze rustled the fynbos at the side of the path and shivered the leaves of the poplars on the ridge. I stopped for a moment. This was where I'd found Kula.

I pulled his phone out of my pocket.

I could drop it here, in the undergrowth, and leave it to be buried by the leaves and debris that mark each passing season. The rain and the alternating heat and cold would surely seep beneath its casing, destroying the battery, but would it also wipe out the record of whose phone it was and erase the evidence of its last call? That might be the best outcome… but I’d promised Dad to give it to him so he could return it to Kula’s father.

The farm dam glinted in the distance.

A black-and-white butcher bird regarded me from the top of a nearby pincushion protea.

I thrust the phone back into my pocket and walked on.

Dad would spend time with Grand-mère before coming home and Jean-Pierre had gone to a birthday sleepover, so Mum and I would be alone for a while. I glanced at my watch. It was quarter past ten. I could tell her what had happened in the village. I could even tell her my part and perhaps she would understand that I only ever wanted the best for everybody - Du Bois, our villagers, the poor men on our fence. I picked up my pace. That was what I'd do. I'd speak to Mum privately and try to rekindle the warmth, especially since it would no longer be strained by events on our boundary.

I began to run, testing the ankle that had given way when I ran from Kula at the dam. The ground felt uneven beneath my feet.

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