He smiles to show he’s mostly teasing and signals to the waiter for the bill.

The truth is that the old Ruth wouldn’t have hesitated. The old Ruth would have had her tongue in Vince’s ear during appetizers. Who am I kidding? She wouldn’t even have let Vince make it out of his room to lunch. But the old Ruth is long gone and that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

What the hell happened to me?

When the bill arrives, I take it and give the waiter my credit card.

“Ruth, come on, let me get lunch. It was meant to be my treat.”

“Thank you, but no. I still owe you for the hospital bill.”

“You don’t—”

I hold my hand up to shush him. A large investment is maturing in two months’ time and I’ll be paying him back. With interest. No negotiations. I pull two documents from my handbag and hand them across to Vince. “This is actually a working lunch and so I’m paying you for your time.”

He takes the first envelope, opens it, and flips through the pages, his eyebrows shooting up. The expression is not unlike Dee’s, whose eyebrows have a tendency to do the same thing. The two of them actually weirdly remind me of each other. “A will? You wrote a will?”

“Yes.”

“But you always refused to talk about estate planning whenever I broached the subject. You said it was morbid and that thinking about death was likely to attract it.”

“Did I? Doesn’t sound like me at all.”

Vince snorts and then his expression turns to concern. “You’re fine, though, aren’t you? I mean, you’re not—”

“For God’s sake. How many times must I tell you that I wasn’t actually planning to commit suicide? I was just trying to get you to stay with me.”

“Okay. I suppose it makes sense to make one now. After what happened at the farm with Mandla and those thugs.”

I nod, though that’s not the reason I’ve finally drawn up a will. As scary as that ordeal was, it didn’t make me aware of my own mortality. I’ve just come to realize more and more that if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans. And I’ve never had more plans than I have now. If I’m going to be tempting fate with them, best I’m prepared for any eventuality.

“Could you please go over it and then sign as a witness? Send it to the law firm when you get back to Cape Town?” I ask.

“Of course.”

“Thank you.”

“What’s the other one?” Vince asks as he begins to open it.

“The signed divorce papers.”