The Perfect Happiness(81)
“No. He likes the domestic routine to stay the same. He’s very persnickety. He likes things neat and tidy, from the way he folds his shirts to the way I slot into the home, looking after the children.”
“Then it’s good for you to get away.”
“Absolutely.” She breathed heavily, savoring the novelty of being unencumbered. “I’m going to enjoy having ‘me’ time.”
“Spaces are good for relationships. You realize how much you miss each other.”
Angelica laughed and put on her sunglasses. “I’m not missing him yet!”
She turned her gaze onto the leafy streets of Johannesburg, devouring the exotic sights with fascination. Anita gave her a tour of the city as they drove into the center. What struck her immediately was the lack of people on the pavements. There were no mothers pushing prams, no joggers on the way to the park, no dog walkers. Houses hid behind tall, forbidding walls fitted with spikes and alarms; security guards stood at the gates, suspicious and watchful. No one seemed very keen to get out and enjoy the frothy plane trees and rampant bougainvillea.
“There’s a terrible problem with crime. Everyone has a story to tell. It’s very sad, and it’s not getting any better. The only thing you can do is fortify your house so it’s as safe as a castle. If you’re a woman on your own, you don’t drive at night, and if you do, you don’t stop. Not even at robots.”
“Robots?”
“Traffic lights.” She laughed. “I know, foreigners always find that funny.”
“So life goes on in people’s houses?”
“Behind those walls you will find some of the most beautiful homes you have ever seen. Luscious gardens with palm trees and swimming pools, bright flowers and exotic birds. They live well. But for all that, they sacrifice their freedom.”
“Is it worth it? Why don’t the rich move somewhere safer?”
“Because their friends are here. Their lives are here. The climate is perfect. But don’t forget, we can’t take much money out, and Europe is very expensive. If you’re wealthy, what can you do? Leave it all behind and start again?”
“Is Cape Town as bad?”
“No, Cape Town has less crime. It has a more European feel, being on the sea. I’d prefer to live there, but my work is here, so I have no choice.”
“But there’s still a problem with crime?”
“Wherever you get a vast divide between rich and poor, you’re going to get crime.”
“And in the countryside?”
“It’s everywhere. You have to be constantly vigilant. For us, it’s second nature. Talking of which, don’t wear those rings.”
Angelica glanced at her diamond engagement ring and diamond eternity ring. “Really?”
“Unless you want your finger sliced off.” Anita watched her blanch. “Don’t panic, you can wait until you get to the hotel. But then I’d put them away somewhere safe.”
“I’ve never taken them off.”
“No time for sentimentality. Better to be safe than sorry.” Angelica toyed with them. I’ll put them back on with my skin. But somehow, removing her wedding ring felt worse than removing her skin.
They arrived at the Grace Hotel through a shopping mall. “Safer than walking outside,” Anita said, and after their conversation about crime, Angelica was grateful. The mall was busy with shoppers, like an ant colony where all the action takes place underground. Sweeping her eyes over the shop fronts, she thought she’d rather spend the afternoon there than lying by the pool, burning. “There’s a really good African market around the corner. If you like, I’ll take you there this afternoon. Full of jewelry and fabrics. It’s quite touristy, but you can haggle and get the prices down. There are some really nice things, once you get your eye in.”
The Grace was an elegant, old-fashioned hotel with comfy red sofas, gilt mirrors, mahogany furniture, and brass fittings. Angelica was reminded of London. They checked in swiftly, and Anita left her with the porter. “You have an hour or so to relax. I’ll call you from here when it’s time to come down.” Angelica was happy to be left on her own in her room. She tipped the young man, who smiled appreciatively, left her suitcase on the luggage rack, and departed. The room was tasteful and airy, with tall windows, pale green walls, a king-size bed, and a mahogany desk. They obviously valued her highly to put her in such a grand hotel. She went to the telephone to call Olivier. She longed for news of the children. But as she picked up the receiver she felt her resentment resurface. In spite of wanting to hear news of Joe and Isabel, she didn’t feel ready to speak to her husband. She put the receiver down and went into the marble bathroom for a shower. She’d leave Olivier to stew and call Jack instead.