“Uh . . .” Samirah cleared her throat. “Technically, it’s not the only cottage for rent.”
I looked up at her and it took me a while to get what she was saying.
“What? Mark? Noooooo.”
At that, Harun let out two big barks and started wagging his tail. Samirah burst out laughing. She reached down and patted him on the head. “Looks like someone had a plan all along,” she said and then walked back to her car.
I looked down at Harun. Surely it wasn’t possible? Was it? That he’d done this deliberately to get me to stay at Mark’s? Dogs were just not that clever and couldn’t think like that. Or could they? And then he tilted his head up to me and, I swear to God, he gave something that resembled a smug, self-satisfied smile before flicking his head like a diva might do and walking away.
“Satan’s bloody Little Helper indeed,” I shouted after him, but he ignored me.
“You can crash on my sofa tonight, if you want,” Samirah said over her shoulder. “We can continue the search for a place tomorrow, I’ll make a few calls.” I climbed into the car and we drove off together.
“Do you mind if we make a small detour on the way back?” Samirah asked.
“Sure,” I said, happy to be back in the cool air-conditioned car anyway and away from that poor woman. We drove for a few minutes until we came to an empty piece of land surrounded by a small fence.
FOR SALE.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“This is the dream,” she said in a soft, faraway voice.
“What dream?” I asked.
“The dream of starting an animal sanctuary for all the strays we get, and the wildlife that comes in injured that I have nowhere to put so I just land up . . .” She tailed off. “I didn’t become a vet to have to put animals down,” she said in a whisper. “There are not that many people living in town who can adopt. The nearest SPCA is miles away and it services such a large area it’s often full . . .” Her voice had gotten a little shaky now. I turned and looked at her as she continued.
“Think about Harun—what would I have done with him if you hadn’t looked after him?”
“You would have had to put him down?” I asked quietly, and then looked over at Harun in the back. My heart tugged in my chest.
“I need exactly R280,000 more to buy this place and then set it up with kennels and enclosures. And I just don’t have that money. I’ve been saving for a while, but some people around here pay me in boxes of homemade biscuits.”
We both stared at the land for a while. It was lovely. Open and vast and, unlike most land here, it had a massive tree in the middle of it. We didn’t say a word to each other for a while as we looked at it together. I felt like I was sharing a moment with Samirah, and it made me feel closer to her. And then I felt like I needed to do something. I slipped my hand over her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. She immediately turned and smiled at me.
“Thanks,” she said.
I was about to ask for what, when she pulled off and drove away.
CHAPTER 47
The sofa at Samirah’s wasn’t the most comfortable. It was old and small. But this was the only place I could go, and I was grateful for that. I lay there looking up at the ceiling. Harun was sitting on the floor watching me. He didn’t seem to be settling down for the night. He seemed restless, with his eye glued to me.
“What?” I leaned forward and glared at him. “Why does it always look like you’re concocting some devious plan in that brain of yours?” We had a little stare-off, but I gave up when I realized that he wasn’t going to be answering me. I flopped back down and went straight back to the ceiling.
Boredom and agitation wracked my body, and I felt that same sense of total loneliness that I’d experienced when I’d first arrived. Perhaps it hadn’t really gone away. Perhaps it had been here the entire time, sometimes closer to the surface, sometimes further. Right now, it was close. Very.
For some reason, crashing on someone’s sofa made me feel alone and unwanted in a different kind of way. And, on top of that, God, it was so hot tonight. I got up, walked over to the big window and opened it. The curtain flapped about in the breeze, and I pinned it back then looked out over the street. It was dark and quiet. It was still strange to be in a place so quiet. But the breeze from the open window was welcoming. I walked back to the sofa and reached into my bag for my phone. Despite being so terrified of it a few hours ago, my hand now seemed to be aching for it. Perhaps I was just aching for something familiar to take the edge off.
I lifted it to my eyes and ran my thumb across the screen, something in me loosening a little. The light washed over me and I took a deep breath, as if trying to inhale its photons. I turned the phone around in my hands and looked at it. This thing contained my entire life. Every video I’d made, social post, Tweet, contact, message, everything that had happened to me in the last several years was contained in this small thing that fitted into my hand. It was like a box of memories and even if it didn’t work, it still felt like one of my most prized possessions. The thing I would save in a fire.
Harun walked over to me and rested his big head on my stomach. The action totally melted my heart. It was as if he knew there was a knot of anxiety inside me and I needed help. I reached down and patted him on the head; he looked up at me with his ugly yellow eye. I sighed.
“You are the reason we’re sleeping here, you know that?” I scratched his head, which made his back leg shake and the ornaments on top of the shelves rattle. He moved his head onto my lap even more, as if demanding more tickles. I obliged, but every time I stopped, he pushed my hand with his nose, as if he wanted me to use both hands. I put my phone down on the table next to me and scratched his head with both hands. But as I did, Harun made a sudden jerky move. I looked at him and gasped. He had pulled away and now had my phone in his mouth.
“What are you doing?” I jumped to my feet as Harun started reversing. One paw at a time.
“Drop it!” I commanded. But he didn’t budge. I shook my head. “Please don’t swallow it. That thing will definitely get stuck and there is no way it’s coming out the other side!” He glanced behind him, and I followed his gaze. Shit! He was looking at the open window. Why the hell was he looking at the open windooooo . . .
