Page 4 of Pillow Talk (Rally Romance #1)

‘I listen, I observe. And I grew up in Rally. You didn’t.

Sure, I was at boarding school for most of my childhood, but I spent my summers and other holidays there.

And let me tell you, it wasn’t easy. My father was too busy at work.

My mother spent most of her time in Durban helping my father in the firm and I was left to my own devices.

Granddad was there of course, but he wasn’t the kind of company a young boy wanted.

I was desperate for friends. I’m embarrassed to even say it out loud,’ Sen explained as he sat down again.

Sam was speechless and wide-eyed.

‘Don’t look so shocked, my friend. Don’t believe what the papers say. I’m only heartless in the courtroom,’ he joked.

Sam chuckled and ran his hands through his hair. ‘I know the real you but I didn’t know this part,’ he said.

Sen sat back. ‘I would go out every day trying to insert myself into someone’s little gang. Obviously, Avi was a dickhead so I didn’t stand a chance with the popular guys. He used to call me poor little rich kid. I honestly don’t know why I tolerate him now,’ Sen pondered.

He shook off the thought and continued. ‘I found two ridiculous girls. They were outsiders themselves. By the time I was 11, I looked forward to summer just to catch up with them. It wasn’t exactly the kind of friendship where we would confide in each other, but they never ever told me to get lost.

‘The summer I turned 16, Anni and Shona were almost 15 and no longer the girls I knew. Or rather, they were the same but they didn’t look the same. They were young women… beautiful young women, and people – guys specifically – started to notice.’

Sen stopped, picked up a pen and clicked it twice. Sam was sitting almost on the edge of his chair.

Sen sighed. ‘I don’t think it’s right that I continue. I think it’s best that you speak to Anni.’ He folded his arms and looked away.

Sam sat up straighter. ‘Sen, you can’t start a story and then suddenly stop.

Anni is my whole world. I love her more than anything.

She just won’t tell me about her past. She won’t open up.

We’re best friends; you can trust me. I promise not to breathe a word of this conversation to her or anyone else,’ Sam pleaded.

Sen didn’t want to reveal that the real reason he was uncomfortable telling this story was that it had dawned on him how vulnerable Shona had been and when he remembered that day, his heart raced thinking about what could have happened if events had turned out differently.

He took in his friend’s despondent expression. He would tell him, although maybe it was more to get it off his own chest.

‘Fine. Not a word.’

Sam nodded.

‘We’d made plans to meet outside the library in front of that ugly statue, to take a bus into the city.

Shona and Anni were proud – they always insisted on paying their own way.

Shona had saved her pocket money and Anni was given some cash for her upcoming birthday.

It was from an anonymous source,’ Sen said.

‘You?’ Sam asked.

‘No, Granddad. We’d been talking about this trip for days and we had it all mapped out.

But when I got to the statue, they weren’t there.

I was so angry; I thought they’d ditched me.

I was about to board the bus to go on my own to get back at them and my parents, who would be livid when they found out that I’d used public transport alone, when I had a weird feeling.

I started running towards Anni’s house. I’d only ever seen it from the road.

It was dilapidated and not something I would associate sweet Anni with but I knew where it was and I had to get there.

When I did, I opened the gate and went into the yard. ’

Sen stopped and shook his head before he started speaking again.

‘I didn’t know what I was going to say or do, but my feet propelled me to the front door.

I heard screams for help and pushed the door open.

Anni and Shona were tied up with some kind of frayed cord and her mother was passed out, drunk, on the floor.

My body moved like a robot as I untied them.

All Shona could say over and over was “he didn’t touch us” … ’

Sen paused as he remembered that moment. Shona’s hair had been uncontrolled curls back then. Her mother had forbidden her to cut it. Her face had appeared so small when she looked up at him as he untied them.

‘Sen …’ Sam’s voice urged him back to the present and he shook off the memory.

‘Anyway, Anni’s mother had told her boyfriend about the birthday cash and you can figure out the rest. They made me promise not to tell any adults because Anni would be sent to a foster home here in Durban.

We never went on that bus trip and we never spoke about it again.

My point is our backgrounds are different.

It may not be an obstacle but it will pop up from time to time.

Think about it, Sam. We would never have been in that position, but Anni had been in more than one situation like that,’ Sen said.

Sam looked pale and shaken.

‘It’s okay, Sam. They’re safe now. We won’t ever let anything happen to them. I promise.’

His friend nodded but didn’t seem convinced. Like him, Sam had lived a charmed life. He couldn’t even imagine Sam in Anni’s old house, or what looked more like the ruins of a house.

Sen got two bottles of water out of the mini fridge beside his desk and handed one to Sam who, after taking a big gulp, looked a little better.

‘Did they ever find the boyfriend?’

Sen shrugged. ‘We never spoke about it again. When Anni’s mom died in my first year of university, I came back for the funeral. But something had changed. We were almost adults and the carefree summer days were over.’

‘Can I ask you something?’

Sen nodded.

‘How come you never asked Shona out? I remember you telling me that you regarded Anni as a sister. You never mentioned Shona in that way but you spoke about her more than you did about Anni.’

Sen turned to the window again. He didn’t want his face to betray him.

‘Because Shona was…Shona. Chaotic. Talking about big dreams and falling in love with a knight in shining armour. All that bridal shop talk was enough to put a guy off. Also, I don’t think Shona would have given me the time of day.

Everyone else thought I was a pretty fine catch but Shona let me know far too often that I wasn’t. ’

Sen found himself smiling.

He turned back to Sam, who was now standing.

‘Thank you, Sen. You’ve given me a lot to think about. I knew you’d help me and you did. I’m going to leave you to do some work while I surprise my wife with some flowers and a fancy lunch,’ said Sam.

‘Don’t mention it. You know I always have your back,’ Sen smiled.

He watched his friend leave. When the door closed behind Sam, Sen sat down at his desk and held his head in his hands.

That memory. He hadn’t thought of it in years. For the past six months, he’d been in Shona’s bed almost every night but they acted as if they had no attachment. Dammit, they had a past! And now that Sen had unlocked the memories, he couldn’t ignore it.

Shona shoved the roll of fabric back onto the shelf.

‘It’s not what we usually order,’ her father complained.

‘Dad, I’ve explained to you: the company that makes that fabric has closed shop. This is the closest colour and texture I could get,’ Shona replied, trying to keep the exasperation out of her tone.

‘But we’ve been using it for over 30years. What do I tell our customers?’

Shona had a choice: she could let her father win or tell it as it was.

Aruna sat in the corner, glued to her cellphone. Drake, who was one of the tailors, observed from a safe distance. When their eyes met, he mouthed to Shona, ‘Speak up.’

Shona licked her lips. Her mouth was dry. ‘Dad, when last did a customer order this fabric?’

Her father scratched his head. ‘The customers want it. It’s what we use, Shona. You want to dress our customers in sacks? Is that what you want?’

Be calm, Shona. Do not be irrational, loose-cannon Shona.

‘Dad, I stopped ordering that fabric three years ago because no one ever wanted it. I only ordered this replacement because you asked for it last week and I knew the company had gone out of business,’ she explained.

Her father’s eyes widened. ‘Well done, Shona. You’ve fooled your father because your father is a fool.

What does he know? Shona went to college and studied fashion.

Shona’s a designer. Her father is a fool who only worked in a tailor shop for most of his life,’ he shouted.

His eyes glistened with what should have been anger but to Shona it looked like pity.

She didn’t know whether he pitied her or himself.

Aruna was now looking at Shona for a response. Drake was shaking his head and her mother stormed in.

‘What on earth is going on? We’re lucky there are no customers in the store. They would have heard this barbaric argument.’

Typical of her mother, Shona thought. Exaggerating. There was nothing barbaric about this argument.

‘Your daughter thinks we are fools. Shona knows everything,’ her father whined.

Shona took in the scene. It was like watching moments of her life on replay.

The same scene had played out ten years ago when she’d suggested moving to a computerised accounting system.

Then again five years ago when she suggested a social media page.

It had happened countless times. And it all involved change – the very thing that she yearned for was what her parents resisted the most. Shona could have come home pregnant as a teen or joined a crime syndicate now and the bigger shame would be her walking away from the family business.

The only other person in the room who could sympathise with her was Drake.

He’d been there long enough to know that nothing ever changed.

‘I’m leaving,’ Shona said.

Her mother gasped. Aruna stood up. Her father’s eyes were now popping out. Drake smiled.

‘I AM LEAVING,’ Shona said louder, more clearly, with more confidence.

‘You can’t leave. What do you mean you’re leaving?’ Her mother seemed shocked but was also calling her bluff.

‘I can leave. I’m handing in my resignation. Because we don’t have a formal contract, I think I can just walk out,’ Shona said. Her palms were sweaty, her throat was dry and her heart was racing.

‘Sho, don’t be—’ her sister started to say.

‘I am walking out of that door,’ Shona interrupted.

She quickly rounded up her bag and jacket and moved towards the front of the store.

Her family stood frozen. It was as if they wanted to say something but were frozen with shock. Drake was still smiling. Martha, a seamstress, had joined them and was smiling too.

When Shona got to the door, she turned to look at her bewildered family.

‘I’m walking away from the shop, not my family,’ she said, surprising herself with her even tone.

‘The shop is your family,’ her father spat out.

‘No Dad, it’s not. My family–you,Mom and Aruna – have always been more important than the shop and that’s why I must walk away,’ she said quietly.

The silence was deafening. Her father looked away. Her mother was wiping away tears. Aruna was too stunned to react.