Delilah reaches out her hand to draw Mandla in against her, kissing the top of his head as she rocks back and forth. And then she beckons for Zodwa to join them.

CHAPTER NINETY-THREE

Delilah

6 August 1997

Verdriet, Magaliesburg, South Africa

I didn’t know how it was possible but a whole year had somehow passed since Ruth left us. Not a day had gone by without my missing her with an ache so fierce it felt like a rock lodged beneath my breastbone.

It felt so strange at first knowing a secret about Ruth that she never even knew, one that if revealed to her would have changed her entire perception of herself. All those miscarriages were a genetic inevitability and her repeated attempts to conceive were futile. She would never have been able to carry a baby to term for the same reason that a pulmonary embolism misdiagnosed as pneumonia had killed her.

Ruth had a genetic mutation called Factor V Leiden, which was only revealed in the autopsy. It’s probably what killed Da too though we never knew it then; we just thought he’d had a heart attack. The gene gave Ruth a much higher risk of developing blood clots and of having miscarriages.

Ruth could have been saved if only we’d known. A blood thinner instead of antibiotics would have broken down the clot. If only I hadn’t called that ancient town doctor to see her. If only I’d insisted on putting Ruth in the car and taking her to a specialist in Joburg earlier. If only she hadn’t been on bed rest, which just made the clotting worse.

If only. If only. If only. Life spun on an axis of regret.

I couldn’t help but wonder if Ruth had a premonition of her death or saw some sign; she was always so good at recognizing them. It couldn’t be a coincidence that she made her first will a mere six months before she died. It’s as if she knew what Zodwa would one day need and selflessly provided it. Didn’t sound like Ruth, though, did it? Selfless, my ass.

Zodwa was surprised by the provision Ruth had made for her in her will but she shouldn’t have been. After all, Zodwa saved Mandla’s life more than once and Ruth was more grateful for that than she was ever able to express. Vince invested the money so that it could continue paying for Zodwa’s antiretroviral therapy. She’d started it six months before and had picked up some weight, which was probably Ruth’s revenge; she never liked living among such skinny women. I wish it had all been smooth sailing since then, but Zodwa had good days and bad days, with the side effects from the ARVs sometimes being worse than the disease itself. It was a waiting game but we hoped for the best. At least she wasn’t alone.