Her face lit up. “That’s it! Something Braai.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “I like Braai. It has an eccentric ring to it, doesn’t it?”
“Braais are symbolic of happiness, because we all love our food.”
“What about the Something?”
“I’ve thought of Braai. You have to think of the Something.”
“All right. Leave it with me. I’ll come up with something for Something.”
They finished lunch and drained the bottle. Lying on their backs, holding hands, they gazed up into the kaleidoscope of pine needles to the glimpses of bright blue sky above. The wind picked up. Known as the southeaster or Cape Doctor, it took the edge off the searing heat. Down in the valley Anna, Lucy, and the grape pickers would be enjoying lunch. Angelica was pleased to be alone in the quiet with Jack, where time seemed to stand still. Nothing else seemed to matter but Jack and her and this precious afternoon without commitments or cares. They could lie in the shade, talk about life and love, and pretend they had forever.
At five, they sat up and watched the sunset. Angelica thought of Anna and how much she loved the changes of light and color at the end of the day. It perplexed her to think that she had suggested Jack take her up to Sir Lowry’s Pass the night before. It was as if she was pushing them together. She didn’t seem to be watching out for stolen glances, hoping to catch them in a romantic tryst, willing them to trip up so that she could throw accusations as she had every right to do. She left them to their own devices, as if she didn’t care what he did.
As the sun turned the sky pink and gold, Angelica hugged her knees, the bubbly feeling in her belly souring with melancholy.
“Have you had many lovers?”
He frowned at her. “What kind of question is that?”
“Does Anna tolerate them?”
“My darling, what’s inspired this line of thought?”
“I don’t know. The sunset makes me think of her.”
“She’ll be enjoying it down there with the workers.”
“You should be with her.”
“We have enjoyed thousands of sundowners together. I only have one more with you.”
She inhaled the fragrant air, filling her lungs before letting it out in a rush. “Anna knows we’re lovers, doesn’t she?”
“If she does, she hasn’t said anything.”
“But she suggested we watch the sunset last night. Isn’t that behavior a little odd for a wife?”
“Anna’s not like other wives. We make our own rules.”
“Are there others like me?”
He put his arm around her and pulled her towards him. “Don’t be silly. There’s no one else like you.”
“Really? Scarlet suggested you had a lover in Clapham.”
He stared at her. “She said what?”
“She saw you with a woman in Clapham.”
The horror evaporated. “Ah, the lovely Mrs. Homer.”
“Who’s Mrs. Homer?”
“An old lady of eighty. Scarlet needs her eyes tested. You don’t need to be jealous of Mrs. Homer.” He placed his lips on her temple and left them there for a long while. “You don’t need to be jealous of anybody.”
“Not even of Anna.”
He sighed. She sensed he was deliberating how to respond. Finally, he pulled away and gazed at the hills on the other side of the valley.
“Look, she’s her own person. She’s a free spirit. She doesn’t own me, and I don’t own her. We love each other, which is a choice we make, not conditions imposed on us by an institution, and how we choose to love each other is our own business and no one else’s. We conduct ourselves in a manner that respects the other. She doesn’t judge me, and I don’t judge her. We’re friends and soul mates. But the way I feel about you is different from the way I feel about anybody in the world. You have to trust me.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder and let the amber light warm her face. “I do trust you, Jack,” she said. But still something wasn’t quite right. There was something he wasn’t telling her.
25
When you love unconditionally, there is nothing to forgive.
In Search of the Perfect Happiness
That evening, they had dinner on the terrace with Lucy, Anna, and a friend of Lucy’s called Fiona. Anna was lively, despite having toiled all morning in the fields with the grape pickers. Her eyes were bright, her smile uninhibited. Angelica watched her closely, trying to decipher her. But she seemed to have no side, and she certainly didn’t seem to be hiding anything.
In the middle of dinner the telephone rang, and Anxious came onto the terrace to tell Angelica that her husband was on the line from London. Angelica was brought back to reality with a jolt. Her first thoughts were for her children, and her chest compressed with fear. Why on earth would Olivier be calling her at Rosenbosch? How had he got the number? It must surely be an emergency. She hurried after Anxious into the sitting room.