‘It’s just that, with your house being raided and all—’

Khethiwe didn’t let Lindi finish. ‘You think that is going to scare me? Listen, madam,’ she spat the word, made it sound like filth, ‘when your parents were sitting in their fine houses we were being beaten and jailed. You think those boys in the police are going to scare me?’

‘That’s not fair, Khethiwe. Lindi’s parents were—’

‘It’s okay,’ Lindi said.

Resistance came naturally to Khethiwe. It was a state of mind that was practically inbred, as it was in so many of her generation. They and their forebears had spent so much of their time resisting or thinking of resisting that it had become a default setting. It was a rebellious temperament that had been quelled since the end of apartheid but was resurfacing now that the future the likes of Nelson Mandela and Desmond Tutu had promised appeared to be receding.

For Khethiwe it was not Kagiso’s cause that worried her but what he might have done in its name.

‘There’s only one thing I need to know. Look at me, child,’ she said, turning to Kagiso. ‘You swear, like I am your mother, that you not involved in this killing of the Motlantshe boy?’

‘Ma Khethiwe, I swear. You think I could do such a thing? Anyway, like I said, Lesedi was ready to help us. Why would I kill him?’

‘It’s all right, it’s all right.’

‘The first thing we have to do is get out of here,’ Kagiso said.

‘We’ve got to get out of Nelspruit, that’s for sure. For all we know Patel has already talked to the police …’

‘Patel? Who’s Patel?’

‘You know, the businessman I was supposed to be meeting this morning. The one I mentioned on the phone. I think he’s probably okay but—’

Ma Khethiwe interrupted their duet. ‘Patel? An Indian? Those fellows, they are only interested in making money.’

‘Well, I’m not sure about that. I did think he was a bit creepy to start with …’

‘Crippy? What is that?’

‘Sorry, Khethiwe. Creepy. It means suspicious, I thought he was suspicious but—’

‘Look, whether he’s suspicious or not we just can’t take any risks,’ Kagiso said. ‘It’s time to move. Maybe back to Jo’burg?’

Lindi shook her head. ‘There are checkpoints everywhere. They were searching vehicles when I came yesterday. Most of the buses and cars were coming this way and they were full of Mozambicans and their bundles.’

‘They were taking money,’ Khethiwe said, as if it were a matter of fact, like conductors checking tickets. ‘These people, these Mozambicans, they’re scared. They going to give all their money to get to the border. The police are getting rich.’

‘Maybe that’s a safer bet,’ Kagiso said.

‘What?’

‘Maybe you and I should get out, go over.’