Senhor Vaz had given her a necklace when they got married: she suddenly wrenched it off and flung it into the water. A seabird dived after it, but not quickly enough to catch it before it sank.
They turned back to the harbour and berthed by the jetty. Ana paid Columbus and shook his hand. She wondered for how many years he would have to make his fishing trips in order to earn as much as she had just given him. But Columbus seemed unimpressed by the bundle of banknotes he had received. He continued to smile at her, but didn’t even turn to watch her walking back to the car.
Ana stopped at the harbour office to ask about the next coaster heading for Beira. She was in luck. A ship would be leaving the day after next, at six in the morning. She booked a ticket and paid for the biggest cabin they had — and thought how easy everything had become. All she needed to do now was make sure that the photographs were taken to the brothel, say goodbye to her domestic staff, and hand over all her bunches of keys. Getting rid of those keys, which she had been obliged to carry around and take care of constantly, was something she longed to do.
She spent the last couple of days packing two light suitcases. She arranged with Andrade that all her and Senhor Vaz’s clothes would be donated to those in need. All she kept were a few photographs, Lundmark’s discharge book, and her diary. She disposed of everything else.
The last afternoon before her departure, Ana assembled all her domestic staff in order to say goodbye to them. As Andrade was about to move into the house he had bought from her, none of them needed to worry about their future.
She had prepared individual envelopes for each of them, so that nobody would know how much the others had received. She was quite sure, for instance, that Julietta would try to find out how she was valued in relation to Anaka.
Ana summoned them to her study. She recalled how Jonathan Forsman had done the same when he spoke to his staff. She told them the facts, that she was going first to Beira, and then to an as yet unknown destination. She thanked them for their services, and wished them all the best with their new employer, Andrade.
As usual, her words were greeted with silence. Nobody thanked her, nobody said anything at all. Ana sent them back to their duties, but asked Julietta to stay behind.
‘You’ll be okay with Andrade,’ she said, ‘as long as you behave yourself.’
‘I always behave myself,’ said Julietta.
‘I’d like you to do something for me,’ Ana said. ‘Before it gets dark I’d like you to take this envelope down to Felicia and the other women. It contains photographs.’
Julietta took the letter, then left the room. Ana heard the front door close with a bang.
Now that she was alone, she made a note in her diary. ‘I can’t live in a world in which everybody always knows more than I do.’ Then she put the diary in one of the suitcases, still not entirely sure about why she was keeping it.
The next morning, when Ana got up very early to prepare for her journey down to the harbour, Julietta still hadn’t returned.
She was worried — what could have happened to her? She sent for Anaka and asked her. Anaka didn’t answer, but she didn’t give the impression of being worried in the least.
Then the penny dropped. Julietta had stayed at the brothel. She had gone to Nunez, who had now taken over the premises, and told him she wanted to start working there. And, of course, he had taken her on. All that talk about a children’s home had been a lot of hot air. Perhaps he had even taken her to one of the rooms to find out how good she was at satisfying a man.
Ana was highly annoyed when she realized that this was the most likely reason for Julietta’s non-appearance.
But she banished the thought. She had no desire to leave this house weighed down with disappointment and unpleasant feelings. She’d had more than enough of her joyless existence. For the last time she spoke to Anaka, who accompanied her down to the front door.
‘I’m leaving now,’ she said. ‘It’s going to be a hot day — but it will be cooler at sea.’
She thought she ought to say more than that — but what?
She had run out of words. She stroked Anaka gently over her cheek, then left her for the final time.
77
When Ana came out into the street, it was not only her car standing there waiting for her. Moses had also returned. So he hadn’t returned to the mines in the Rand after all, but had stayed in town all the time. Perhaps he’s been keeping an eye on me without my knowing it, Ana thought. Just like a leopard, who sees everything but is never seen.
Moses was wearing his usual overalls and a worn-out pair of sandals. His hands were dangling down by his sides, looking quite helpless.
‘You’re here,’ she said.
‘Yes,’ said Moses. ‘I’m here. I wanted to say goodbye.’
‘How did you know I’d be leaving today?’
As soon as she’d said that, she knew it was a question to which she would never receive an answer. If Moses had said he’d discovered the date of her departure in the pattern of paving stones outside her house, she wouldn’t have believed him: but he would have believed it himself. Anyway, here he was, just as she was about to step for the last time into the car that Vanji would return to its owner later in the day.
Moses looked at her and smiled, but he didn’t answer.
It wasn’t important, Ana thought. She was simply pleased that he’d come back.
She suddenly had the feeling that she didn’t want to leave after all. She wanted to stay close to him, for as long as possible. But that wasn’t on. She didn’t have a house any longer, and had handed over all the keys. The only accommodation she had was a cabin on board a coaster that would take her to Beira.
Her feelings frightened her, but also filled her with happiness. She really loved this man standing in front of her. However, it was not possible for them to have a relationship, it would go against all the assumptions and conventions that held sway in this accursed town.
‘Come with me to the harbour,’ was all she could say.
‘Yes,’ said Moses, ‘I’ll come with you.’
But when she opened the car door for him, he shook his head, and instead started running with light, springy steps down the hills leading to the harbour.
Ana told Vanji to take a different route. She didn’t want to pass by Moses as he was running.
She also handed Vanji two envelopes, one with the money she owed for renting the car, and the other with a payment to him.
Those were the last two envelopes she needed to give people: everybody had been paid. She didn’t owe anybody anything now, and she had behaved in a way which all other white citizens would have condemned outright, if they’d known about it. They would have said she was spoiling the blacks, making them obstinate and lazy, and reducing their respect for their white superiors.
I’m in the middle of all that, with a foot in both camps, Ana thought. I don’t belong anywhere. Not until now, that is. Now that Moses has returned, I belong with him. But that won’t be possible.
He was standing waiting for her by the quay when she arrived. Despite the long run, he seemed totally unaffected by the strain. It struck Ana that she was treating him as she’d treated Lundmark. She only saw what she wanted to see. If she’d examined Moses closely she would no doubt have discovered that his hands were dirty and his overalls unwashed, and she might also have noticed that the run had indeed left its mark as his lungs must have been damaged after all those years down the mines.