Gia licked her lips nervously. She hated it when her parents fought, and now she was right in the middle of it with no way out.
“It’s true, Mom,” she said. “Kavitha warned me. She said that Luxulo would take any excuse to blame us, if anything went wrong. Like if we fell behind with anything. And that he could destroy us, if he wanted to.”
“And he could do it,” said Karel, his voice now urgent with his need to persuade Saraswati. “Luxulo Langa is one of the most powerful men in South Africa, Sari. We cannot afford—”
Saraswati turned away, rubbing her hands along her silver bracelets. “So Karel, tell me, what are we to do?”
Gia hesitated, and put her finger on one of the paragraphs of fine print.
“Um— It says here, that if there is more than one test scheduled, the first test must happen by the date they specify. So, maybe, if I went for tomorrow’s test, they would let you postpone Nico’s test to later?”
“But that’s just putting off the inevitable,” said Karel.
“No, Gia, I’m not having you go to that place—” said Saraswati.
Gia shook her head. “Mom, it doesn’t matter about me. This is all about Nico, isn’t it?”
Saraswati seemed about to say something. Then she just nodded.
“If they allow you to postpone Nico’s test,” said Gia, “then at least it gives you a little more time to make a plan, get him out of it somehow.”
There was another tense silence, and Gia held her breath.
What am I doing?
The thought of her mother going away, disappearing somewhere, and taking Nico with her was almost impossible to think about. It would be like a gash right through the heart of her family. It would be the end.
Why was she helping her mother to do that?
At least, this way, we’d have a little more time. Maybe everything will come right.
Saraswati gave a great shuddering sigh, and turned to look at Karel, who was nodding.
“If that’s possible, that gives us a little more time,” he said. “No need to go off half-cocked.”
Then, as Saraswati stepped towards the phone, he laid a hand on her arm.
“Sweetheart, maybe it’s better if I do the phoning. You’re a little overwrought.”
For a moment, Gia thought her mother would explode again, but then her shoulders dropped and she nodded in agreement.
-oOo-
Gia realised that Mandy had retreated to the kitchen, and went to join her.
She found her rinsing the teapot, and the kettle just coming to boil.
“What’s going on now?” asked Mandy. “Sounds like things have calmed down?”
Gia explained quickly. “And Dad’s phoning now, to find out if it’s possible to postpone Nico’s appointment if I go in to be tested at the right time,” she finished.
Mandy blew out a breath. “Well,” she said, measuring tea into the pot. “Rather you than me, is all I say. Going to Valkenberg.” She shuddered dramatically.
“Get the cups, will you Gia? One for everyone.”
“Is it really that bad, Mandy?”
Mandy shrugged. “I guess I’m being silly. Valkenberg has a bad name, but it’s probably just a place like any other.” She poured the steaming water into the teapot.
“It used to be a mental hospital, many years ago. I’ve heard that it’s become some kind of experimental— prison, or something, for the people who get caught by Special Branch.”
Gia felt a chill flow down her spine. “A prison?”
Mandy gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
“Oh, I’ve probably got it all wrong. But anyway, you’ve already been there, don’t you remember? Hand me that tea cozy, over there by the sink.”
“You mean the school trip? When I was little? But I don’t really remember anything much. Just the creatures.”
“Well, it can’t be that bad a place if they let little children go there on school trips, can it?” said Mandy reasonably.
She was pouring the tea, when Karel came in.
“Ah, Mandy, you are an angel,” he said, accepting a cup. “Just what I need now.” He took a deep swallow. “It’s all arranged, Gia,” he said in answer to her questioning look. “You’re going tomorrow morning at nine, and Nico is going Friday.”
“What about school?”
“Don’t worry, I’ve arranged that already. You’re going to miss a few classes, but we should have you back there before lunch. Got to run now, fetch Nico home. Gia, I think your mother needs your help. She’s started piecing together the toile of Kavitha’s gown.”
-oOo-
Gia tried to speak to her mother as she helped her, but Saraswati was withdrawn.
When Karel arrived with Nico, she asked Gia to take the boy upstairs and keep him occupied, saying that she could manage her work better on her own.
“Could you put Minou’s lotion on her?” said Saraswati as Gia went out the door. “That cat’s been baking herself in the sun, and her ears are looking a bit pink.”
Nico got the box of overlocker parts from his bedroom, and started unpacking them on the living room table.
“Hold on a minute,” said Gia. She found an old newspaper and spread it out for him. “Work on that,” she said. “You’ll scratch the table.”
Nico had several rolls of wire, a pair of wire-cutters, and some long-nosed pliers that she did not recognise.
“Where did you get those?”
“Caretaker,” he said.
She watched him for a while, fascinated. She’d assumed that he was reassembling the overlocker, but instead he seemed to be making a structure of some kind, stringing the parts together onto a wire frame. He was doing a good job too. The bits of machine went together so neatly that they looked as if they’d been designed to fit that way.
“Oh,” she said as she recognised a shape. “That’s an arm!”
“Leg,” said Nico, picking the limb up and bending it at the knee to demonstrate. “Foot.” He showed her, pointing at another group of objects that had been neatly wired together to shape a long-toed foot.
“These aren’t all overlocker pieces, are they?” asked Gia, fingering the delicate metal rods that made up the toes. “This is all kinds of stuff. Where did you get them?”
“Caretaker.”
Then Nico looked up from his work, staring towards the door. At first Gia did not know what had attracted his attention, then she heard it too. A scuffling and squeaking, from Nico’s bedroom. There was a clang that could only be the rat’s cage.
Nico was up and off.
“Hey, wait!” said Gia, but he was too fast for her. By the time she was out the door he was already in his room. She heard him shout, then there was another clang, much louder this time.
“Nico!”
The rat’s cage was on its side, sawdust and torn up newspaper spilling out.
Nico was down on the floor, grappling something.
Something small, and cat-sized. It flickered in and out of view like a badly projected image, a little shadow blurring on the edge of sight.
“Thief!” shouted Nico. “Thief!”
The cat-thing was moving too fast for Gia to see it properly. She dived in and grabbed hold of what turned out to be an arm and a leg.
“Smash!” shouted Nico through gritted teeth and lunged at the thing, his head connecting painfully with Gia’s chin.
“Nico! Stoppit!”
She backed away, dragging the thing out of his hands. The creature, fully visible now, turned its head and lunged at her, trying to bite.
“No you don’t!” She shifted her grip so that she had it by the nape of its neck, and caught a kicking foot with her other hand.
Nico was still shouting.
“Nico, stop. Stop. Calm down.”
They both stood staring at one another, panting.
“Hurt Poepie!” he gasped. “Hurt! Eat!”
“Well, it’s not going to hurt Poepie now,” said Gia. She str
uggled to keep her grip on the twisting thing. “Anyway, it was probably just trying to steal his food.”
“Thief!” said Nico.
The thing squirmed again, but then Nico was there wrapping a towel around it, pinning the flailing limbs.
“Good boy!” said Gia. “Got it!”
The thing glared at them, only its head sticking out from the bundled towel. It struggled hard, jerking its head around, and Gia had to pull the towel tighter to prevent it escaping.
“Thief,” said Nico furiously. “Thief!”
Gia could feel it trembling inside the towel.
It had large, cat-like ears and round, green eyes. It was covered with gingery fur and its cheeks and eyebrows sprouted a cloud of quivering whiskers that reminded Gia more of a rat than a cat.
“Calm down, Nico,” she said. “Where’s Poepie? Was he in the cage when it fell?”
This distracted Nico, who started looking round the room for his rat.
“You,” said Gia to the thing. “Stop that.” It was stretching its head around, trying to bite her arm.
“What are you doing here? Was it you who’s been stealing the rat’s food?”
The thing glared up at her. The look in its clever, skinny little face was more human than animal.
“Steal from a rat?” it said in a tone of withering scorn.
Hearing it speak was a nasty surprise.
“You can talk?” she said, but it just stared up at her.
Nico was trying to coax Poepie out from under the bed with a fragment of biscuit.
“Let go!” spat the thing, giving another wriggle.
“Well. If you can talk, you can understand,” said Gia. “I want to let you go, but I’m not going to until you promise not to harm either me or Nico,” she caught Nico’s eye. “Or the rat. And stop stealing the rat food.”
It pulled its mouth this way and that, blinking furiously. Gia watched it, ready for it to start struggling again.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she said. “Promise, and I’ll let you go.”
“Oh, alright,” said the thing.
“Not good enough. What do you promise?”
“I promise,” it said, looking at her sideways through gingery lashes, “no harm to you or him, or rat, and no stealing rat’s food.”
Gia tried to think, but she could not spot a trick. Her arms were getting tired. She’d have to let it go soon anyway.
“Good,” she said. “I’m going to put you down now.” She lowered the creature to the floor, and then let go, stepping back quickly.
Nico hopped onto his bed.
The thing pulled the towel off with ruffled dignity, and then shook itself, exactly like a dog. It wore a miniature olive-green safari suit, but no shoes. Before Gia could get a better look, it vanished.
“What—” said Gia, and Nico let out a squeak.
The creature had not run away, it had simply faded.
For a minute or so Gia hardly dared move. She and Nico looked around the room, but there was no sign of the creature.
“Gone,” said Nico at last, and went to tidy up Poepie’s cage.
Gia stayed with him for a while, half expecting the creature to come back, or to do mischief of one kind or another, but there was no sign of it.
After a while, seeing that Nico was going to be occupied for quite some time in calming the rat, and settling it back into its cage, she decided to leave him to it.
Saraswati had asked her to put some sunblock on Minou’s ears, so she went looking for the cat. Minou was in her current favourite spot, on the balcony railing. She allowed Gia to pick her up and carry her to the sofa. The white cat loved the sun, but her sensitive skin burned easily. The vet had warned about cancer, and given them sunblock to apply to her ears and nose.
Gia settled the cat on her lap, and took out a comb. Minou loved to be combed, and hated the lotion, so Gia always tried to put her into a receptive mood by combing her for a few minutes first.
“No, Pouf! Not now.”
As usual, Pouf was trying to muscle in on the action. He shoved his head under her hand, and being rebuffed once again, lay down on the sofa next to her, purring loudly, kneading her thigh and drooling slightly.
Minou purred too, a silent vibration as Gia pulled the comb through her fur. But after a minute or so, the purring stopped, and her tail twitched. At first Gia thought that she’d combed too hard, but then she noticed that Pouf, too had fallen silent, and that both cats stared at the same spot. The shadows on top of a tall display-cabinet that stood next to the door.
Gia felt the hair stir on her neck, but she forced herself not to look.
Once again, she had the feeling that she was being watched. She turned her head slightly, so that the cabinet was in her peripheral vision. Was there something there? It was impossible to see anything in the shadows.
Minou and Pouf both moved their heads, their eyes refocusing as they tracked something. Gia drew her hands over Minou, feeling the tension in the little cat’s body.
“You’re up there, aren’t you,” she said, feeling a little foolish. “Are you invisible, or just good at hiding?”
There was no response.
“Don’t worry about Nico,” said Gia. “He’s too busy with his things to take any more notice of you. As long as you stay away from his rat, that is.”
There was more silence, but Gia no longer felt that she was talking to empty air, although a quick glance told her that there was still nothing visible on top of the cabinet.
She tried to make her voice as normal and everyday as possible. “How do you make yourself invisible like that? I wish I could do that.”
More silence. Then, just as she was sure nothing more was going to happen, something spoke.
“Mostly,” said the voice. “Mostly people don't want to see. So I just let them. Not see me.”
Gia started combing the cat again. “It sounds very useful.”
“It is,” came the answer. “But it’s not something a straight can do. Hope not.”
“What’s a straight?” asked Gia.
The voice gave a rough little laugh. “Crooks and straights,” it said. “I’m a crook. You’re a straight. Simple.”
Gia shot another glance. She could almost see it now, something perching on the very edge of the cabinet.
“You mean— magicals? And, um, non-magicals?” She’d been about to say “Magicals and humans,” but somehow that seemed rude.
This time the voice gave a snort. “Typical straight thinking. Dividing things. Ca-te-go-rise things. But magic’s everywhere. That’s what the caretaker says.”
Going by the direction of the cats’ gaze, whatever it was, was climbing down one side of the cabinet.
“You know the caretaker?”
“Everyone knows the caretaker. He’s been here since the beginning.”
“He’s a— a crook, then?”
“Yup.” The voice had reached floor-level, and she could see the thing again. As she suspected, it was the same creature that she and Nico had caught in her bedroom.
“I like your outfit,” she said. “The safari suit. Did somebody make it for you?”
The creature looked down at itself. “Oh. Yes. Mrs Moses,” he said. “Very useful. Lots of pockets.”
It glanced over its shoulder towards Nico’s room. “I came back,” it said, “to ask what you want.” It pushed its hands deep into two of the trouser pockets and hunched its shoulders.
“What do you mean?” asked Gia.
“Well,” it said reluctantly, wriggling around a little. “I’m down one. To you. You did me a good deed.”
“Oh, you mean stopping Nico from hurting you? Oh, don’t worry about that! I don’t think he would really have hurt you anyway.”
The thing looked far from convinced.
“Yeah, right. Gentle as a kitten, that’s what he is. I must pay my debt. Don’t like owing.” It shifted from one foot to the other, then stared at the floor.
; “Okay,” said Gia. “I’ll think about it, okay? I don’t have to ask for anything right away, do I?”
“Guess not.”
Gia reached for the bottle of lotion, and placed a dab of it in her palm.
“What are you doing with the cat?” He craned his head, clearly fascinated.
“I’m putting this stuff on her ears. She gets sunburn. Because she’s so white.”
“She does?” It moved closer. “Does it help?”
Gia noticed that the pale skin visible under the gingery fur was distinctly pink in places.
“Would you like some? You look like you’ve had a touch too much sun yourself.”
He ran a self-conscious hand over an ear. “Will it help?”
Gia put a little more lotion in her hand. “Here you go.”
He edged closer, dipped one long finger in the puddle in Gia’s palm and sniffed at it suspiciously. “Pongs,” he said.
Gia suppressed a laugh at the look on his face. “It does have a bit of a smell. I think that’s chamomile.”
“You just rub it on?”
“That’s right.” She watched as the creature smoothed the drop of lotion onto the back of one hand.
“Feels good!” it said. “Nice and cool. But pongy.”
“Would you like some more?”
“Yes!”
The next moment, Minou went scampering off her lap as the creature hopped up to take her place. He perched on her knee, perfectly balanced and trembling a little. Gia could sense the thrumming energy of his skinny body. She could smell him too. He smelled of tobacco smoke.
Gia put some more lotion in her palm, and the creature dipped his fingers in the puddle and rubbed the lotion over his hands and face.
“You’re quite burnt on the back of your neck,” she said. “Your ears too. Wait, let me give you some more.”
She watched as it smoothed lotion onto its large ears, and around its neck.
“Feels good,” he said. “Will this keep the sun off?”
“It should, but not forever. Just for an hour or so. And you should be wearing a hat, really.”
“That’s what Mrs Moses said,” he said, climbing down from her lap. “Hate hats. Squash my ears.”
He was smoothing down his fur, then sniffing at his fingers. “Well,” he said. “I owe you then. You need something, just call my name.”
Crooks and Straights Page 18
