FIRE and ICE by BETH MACHOBANE

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 01
NALEDI MOLETSANE
We are going to be thrown out of this
restaurant if we don’t keep it down, the
manager came to our table two times asking
that we tone it down because other
customers are complaining. I wish they knew
how impossible it is to be quiet when we are
together, my best friends are the craziest
people I know and the tequila shots we like so
much make us even worse.
I think it’s best we pay the bill and go to a bar
around Maboneng, they won’t give us the evil
eye there. I suggest to my friends and they
both agree and the waitress is called and
asked to bring the bill. Mongezi shocks us and
says he will pay the bill, he is the stingiest
man I know and thank God he doesn’t have a
girlfriend. The poor girl was never going to get
a cent from this one, it’s good that he dates
these rich cougars that do everything for him
in exchange for sex.
I know that sounds bad but trust me, no girl
deserves the emotionally unavailable Mongezi.
His focus is on securing the bag and seeing his
two siblings through school, both are in
university. Plus, his mother depends on him
for everything.
“Naledi?” a female voice calls out and I quickly
turn to see who it is.
“Can I help you?” she smiles, shaking her head
and before I know it I’m soaked in smelling
urine.
“What the fuck!” I push my chair back and get
up. Who is this crazy woman? Why would she
pour urine all over me like this?
“Lady, are you insane?” Katherine asks angrily.
“Tell your friend to stay away from my
husband. I gave my all in that marriage and I
won’t allow some little whore to mess
everything up. You will not take what belongs
to me and children,” she says, wagging a
finger at me like an errant child.
“Husband? Which husband are you talking
about?” I ask and she claps once.
“You don’t even know. How many married
men are you sleeping with?” None bitch!
“Mama wee, Naledi is not sleeping with any
married man,” Mongezi jumps in.
“Oh so I’m crazy? I didn’t find pictures of you
naked in his phone? You aren’t the one saved
as his love on the phone?” my heart starts
thumping against my chest. This cannot be
happening.
“Are you talking about Jimmy?” she nods
vigorously and my heart breaks into a million
pieces. How did I fall for yet another fuck up?
He told me he divorced years ago and it was
not hard to believe because the man is always
available for me. I have spent days and days
at his house and not even once did this
woman show up. I even met his sister and
plans to meet the rest of his family were
underway.
“You know what lady, I’m sorry. I didn’t know
that Jimmy is married, he told me about an
ex wife,” she laughs in my face.
“And you stupidly believed him because of his
money,” I don’t have time for this nonsense. I
am in a relationship with that man because I
love him, I don’t need his money.
“Okay, enough. You caused a scene for
absolutely no reason at all. Jimmy lied to my
friend just as much as he lied to you,”
Katherine says, fuming. I know she wants to
lay her hands on this stupid woman, but
Mongezi is standing between her and us.
The poor manager is trying to get a word in
but everyone is talking over him.
I cannot stand another minute in this
restaurant, I grab my bag and head out to my
car in the parking lot. Mongezi will stay
behind and settle the bill.
The wife is hailing insults at me and as much
as I’m trying to ignore the stares it’s hard as
some people are taking videos while saying
the most horrible things.
I know for a fact that I’m going to be trending
on all social media platforms. “Ministers
daughter is a mistress”, that’s tomorrow’s
newspaper headline. Having a parent who is in
the spotlight is the pits, there’s no privacy at
all. I was never given the opportunity to mess
up without it being splashed on gossip blogs
and written in gossip columns. My life is their
entertainment, literally.
My friends have been trying to call me, but I
don’t want to talk to anyone right now. I’m
just grateful that they both came with their
cars and I didn’t have to worry about dropping
them off.
I want to calm down then call Jimmy to ask
him why he would play me like this. I want to
know if it was ever real from his side or he
was just bull shitting me to continue fuckin
me all shades of Sunday. One thing I’m sure of
right now is that our relationship or whatever
it was is over.
I get home and park in the driveway then
climb out with my handbag and head to the
house. I open the door and my mother is
waiting for me, she’s not on her wheelchair. I
take a deep breath and watch her gulp down
the amber drink in the glass. She knows about
the drama that happened at the restaurant
and I will not hear the last of it.
“Must you always embarrass me like this,
Naledi?” she asks vehemently and I roll my
eyes at her.
“This is not about you mama,” she makes me
numb sometimes. I am the one smelling of
urine, the one embarrassed in public and
probably trending number one on Twitter and
roasted by the keyboard warriors.
“They won’t say Naledi is sleeping with a
married man. They will say “minister of
presidency for woman, youth and persons
with disability, Maswabi Moletsane’s daughter
was seen in public confronted by the wife of
Jimmy Khambule. Ministers daughter is said
to be having an affair with the businessman”.
That’s what those gossip columnists will
write Naledi. They will once again make your
nonsense about me and my work. Can I blame
them? No, because you are the opposite of
everything I speak for,” tears are streaming
down my face at this point. I don’t even know
what to say to my mother because I didn’t
ask for this life. I didn’t ask to be known by
the public and used to sell papers on days I
mess up like every other 25 year old.
“It took me years of hard work to make
people respect me and see me for more than
just a woman with no legs, the freak who
walks on her stumps, but you are pulling me
back with all these things you’re caught doing
in public. The great work I do is pushed aside
and I’m known as the mother of the mistress,
alcoholic…” she takes a deep breath and
scratches her forehead.
“You are such an embarrassment,” those
words don’t hurt as much as they used to.
“Okay, that’s enough. I don’t want Basetsana
hearing this. Maswabi, let me help you back
on the wheelchair,” Manana says, appearing
from the corridor. Thank God she’s still in the
main house.
“Talk to her, Dzunisani,” she has always made
me her helpers problem, not that I mind
because that woman has been more of a
mother to me than Maswabi will ever be. I
don’t know what would have happened to me
if Manana wasn’t in our lives.
“Come baby girl. I filled the tub for you,”
Manana says once my mother has left the
room on her motorized wheelchair.
“You saw what happened?” I ask with a
shaking voice and she nods with a soft
expression only she can give.
“Yes, Maswabi and I watched the video
together. Someone from work sent it to her,”
oh Jesus Christ.
“I didn’t know he was married, Manana. I
swear,” I know I’ve done a lot of things to
spite my mother in the past but this wasn’t
one of them.
“I believe you,” She’s the one person who has
never and will never judge me. For 23 years
Manana has been there to listen to me and
wipe my tears. I appreciate that she can also
reprimand me and show me right from wrong.
“The water will get cold, come. You don’t
smell very pleasant.”