Soul Sisters
Page 32
EPILOGUE
Cape Town, South Africa, 2010
The two women stood at the edge of the rented property, looking out to sea. In front of them, the Atlantic Ocean heaved in slow-moving, sinuous swells. A few gulls flew overhead, their shrieks uncannily child-like, screaming into the wind. There was a glass balcony protecting them from the vertical drop of the cliff edge, which plunged at least ten metres down to the patio of the property below. They were in Clifton, a decidedly upmarket suburb of Cape Town, just days before the opening ceremony of the World Cup. The pressure – and the expectations – were at fever pitch. The major stadia were still not quite ready; there’d been the threat of a strike by the unions, affecting everyone from construction workers to the hastily assembled security force who’d been hired to protect the hundreds of thousands of expected tourists arriving any day now. Solam was in a fury, swearing at anyone who’d listen, threatening ministers with sacking if they didn’t bring the union leaders to heel. It was all on his head, he’d screamed at her that morning.
She turned to Kemi who was leaning on the glass edge, mesmerized by the view. ‘So, what are you asking me?’
Kemi tilted her head sideways to look at her. There was a small line between her eyes that Jen hadn’t noticed before. It came from all the reports she had to read in her new role as director of the foundation that had been set up after the success of the first township clinic. There were now eleven such clinics dotted around the country. The Julian Carrick Foundation was becoming a force to be reckoned with in terms of healthcare provision. The past wasn’t forgotten. On the contrary, it had forged Kemi, just as it had forged her. All the sorrows and secrets Kemi had endured had shaped her into the person she’d become. Jen could not have been more proud. ‘I’m asking you to join me,’ Kemi said patiently.
Jen felt the blush spread across her face. ‘Me? But what use would I be to you? What would I do?’
‘Whatever you like. It’s ours to do with as we please.’ She turned back to look at the ocean again. ‘This won’t last forever, you know. You do know that, don’t you?’
‘Of course I do. He’ll want one more term. He’ll get it, too, but he’ll only be in his mid-fifties when it’s all over. I don’t know what he’ll do next. Something else, I suppose.’
‘Why d’you stay?’ Kemi asked carefully, still looking out to sea. ‘It’s your life, Jen. You can do whatever you want. There’s the money your father left us. You’ll never have to earn a living if you don’t want to. The kids will be fine. Hell, they barely see him as it is.’
Jen looked down at her hands. She twisted her wedding ring. ‘Think of the scandal,’ she murmured.
Kemi gave a soft laugh. ‘D’you think yours would be the only one?’ she said quietly. ‘If you love each other . . . what’s stopping you?’
Jen swallowed. ‘How did you know?’ she asked in a low voice.
Kemi turned round. ‘Jen, I’ve known you almost all my life. I can tell by the way your eyes light up whenever he’s around. I’m not blind.’
Jen’s face was on fire. ‘I didn’t think it was so obvious,’ she muttered.
‘Don’t worry, I see it because I know you so well. I doubt Solam’s noticed. In fact, I’d swear he hasn’t. What are you going to do?’
Jen’s shoulders went up and down. ‘I’ve no idea. I just can’t seem to think straight.’
Kemi was quiet for a moment. Then she levered herself away from the balustrade and began to walk back into the house. At the sliding doors, she stopped and turned. ‘Whatever you do, do it for you, Jen. Don’t do it for anyone else.’ And then she opened the doors and walked into the gloom.
Jen stood looking after her a little uncertainly. It was a typical Kemi comment, profound but cryptic, as though there was another message lying dormant within. She wanted to go after her, as she’d always done, asking for an explanation or at least the chance to thrash it out. But something stopped her, kept her back. She laughed a little embarrassedly, both at the sound of her voice out loud in the darkness and at her train of thought. Do it for me. Don’t do it for anyone else. Kemi had always been so decisive, so knowing, so self-possessed. She’d used Kemi as a barometer for her own indecisions, as if by measuring herself against her quieter, steadier nature she might see in Kemi some future, better version of herself. Her certainty had been a powerful warning to her, all the years of their shared life together when she thought that being passionate and full of longing was a sign of weakness, no doubt passed down to her from Alice. But she was beginning to understand that nothing was quite as clear or fixed as she thought, or, perhaps more accurately, as she liked to think. She’d used Kemi as a crutch. What had happened in the twenty-odd years since her first impression of her was that Kemi had simply outgrown Jen’s idea of her, and Jen had been too blind, or afraid, to see it.
The breeze picked up, whipping a few loose strands of hair across her face. She put up a hand to touch her scar, the tiny ridge that her fingertips now understood as belonging to her, a real part of her now and for the rest of her life. Her scars were visible but Kemi’s were not. She felt her skin prickling. Silence, truth and lies. Maybe, she thought to herself, turning back towards the sea, even the lies we tell ourselves are a form of truth. Perhaps the only form of truth, better and truer than our desperate attempts to evade it.
A light went on suddenly in the living room. She could see Kemi’s silhouette moving around, plumping the cushions on the couch, opening a bottle of wine. They were alone for the weekend. Iketleng had insisted on taking the children for a few days, revelling in her unexpected role of favourite grandmother. Somewhere in the city below, François was waiting. When the time was right . . . Jen’s heart had started to lift. She began to walk determinedly towards the light.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
This book was written over a much longer period than usual – five years – and, during that time, my world changed in too many ways to count. Writing provided some release and relief and I’m so grateful to both my agent, the lovely Kate Shaw, and to my new editor, Wayne Brookes, whose enthusiasm and genuine delight in bringing this book into the world was one of the highlights of a very difficult year. I’d like to thank everyone at ILA and Pan Macmillan, and special thanks go to dear Joy Terekiev at Mondadori, whose support and friendship has accompanied my writing career for over twenty years.
Soul Sisters was mainly written before COVID, and although it feels too early to write about the effects of self-isolation on all of us, re-reading it now just as we’re about to go to print reminds me of the simple fact that we come into the world seeking relationships – with each other, with the world around us – and that will never change. There are a few people whose love – no other word – has been even more meaningful over the past few years – Patrick, Victor, Kwabena, Sean, David, Liz, Poem, DK, Kate and Sumayya. Thank you. And I’d like to thank the countless fans who wrote to me on social media, or even in emails, asking ‘when’s the next one coming out?’ It’s been a while, mea culpa . . . but here it is! Thank you.
Soul Sisters
Lesley Lokko is a Ghanaian-Scottish architect, academic and novelist, formerly Dean of Architecture at The City College of New York, and now the founder and director of the African Futures Institute, Accra, Ghana. She has lived and worked on four continents. Lesley’s bestselling novels include Sundowners, Rich Girl, Poor Girl and A Private Affair. Her novels have been translated into sixteen languages and are captivating stories about powerful people, exploring themes of racial and cultural identity, as well as love, loyalty and family histories.
By Lesley Lokko
Sundowners
Saffron Skies
Bitter Chocolate
Rich Girl, Poor Girl
One Secret Summer
A Private Affair
An Absolute Deception
Little White Lies
In Love and War
The Last Debutante
Soul Sisters
First
published 2021 by Macmillan
This electronic edition first published 2021 by Macmillan
an imprint of Pan Macmillan
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ISBN 978-1-5290-6729-3
Copyright © Lesley Lokko 2021
Cover images: landscape © Chalffy/Getty Images;
figure on the right © Jonas Hafner/EyeEm/Getty Images;
figure on the left © mapodile/Getty Images
Author photograph: © Debra Hurford-Brown
The right of Lesley Lokko to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
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