Amani confusion seemed clear on his face as he stepped from his black Jeep.  The Jeep was his latest toy in his vast collection of cars.  Standing next to it, the car looked like it had been custom-made for him.

“What the devil is going on?” he had stopped at his tracks when he found Marianne on the slate stoep floor. 
“This is a crime scene, Sir, “ he was stopped by a police officer as he tried to make his way inside the house. 
“I … I … live here.  This is my house.  What happened?” he asked clearly shaken while his questioning eyes looked at Marianne. 
He couldn’t understand what Marianne, soon to be mother of his first child, was doing at his mansion at that point of time – and mostly what killed his housekeeper and why her dead body was next to her.  Marianne’s hands and dress were now covered with the housekeeper’s blood.  The mansion that was built onto huge granite boulders was swamped with the police - walking around and asking questions
A neighbour had clearly called the police, Marianne thought as she struggled to maintain consciousness, but her mind felt hazy and blurry.  

Marianne woke up with a start.  Darkness.  Distant voices.  Smell.  The acrid smell.  The smell was strong and unmistakable - it was the smell of urine.  God, don’t these people ever clean this place? she grimaced.

One weak lamp was flickering in the adjacent room.  She lay still for a while in the foreign hard bed, unable to figure out where she was.  In the dimness, she could see the next room. 

An office? she asked herself.  It was partitioned with the bars between them.
As Marianne lay there, she heard a pounding and realized what had woken up.  Someone was knocking and it grew louder.  Someone was pounding on a wall and rattling something on bars – for attention.  Then she heard faint footsteps approaching.
“Hey baby,” someone, a woman, shouted, “you have become a big!  Almost as big as Mandela!”
“Behave Latifah,” she then heard a male voice coming from the direction of the footsteps.
Confused, Marianne got up, feeling a sense of uneasiness, her heavy stomach dragging her.  As Marianne moved, the smell seemed to follow her, and then she realized it was coming from her.  Marianne felt a sudden anxiety.  Had I wet myself, why, how?  Where am I?  She asked herself confused.  Why am I caged?
A tall, strong man adorned in a uniform appeared and stared down at her from the bars.
Marianne stared at him, “how … how …. how did I get here?”
“A lawyer has been appointed to you,” he said instead of replying her, “he will be here shortly.”
She tried to remember how she had gotten there and how he had gotten there.  Surreal wisps of memory sifted back into her consciousness … …

***************************

“I think I’m late,” Marianne murmured, as she walked into Prudence’s two-bedroom but very modest town house. 

Marianne always joked that Prudence should have been born from a rich family.  She had impeccable taste and class.  Her apartment was done in a classic revival style.  Marianne remembered four years ago when Prudence's pride and glory was constructed - a small Moroccan inspired pool house.  Prudence had fallen in love with it when she saw something similar in the Condé Nast House and Garden magazine.

Ever since she had it built, she would start her day by refreshing with a dip in the small pool and then she would have her continental breakfast in the shade of terracotta-tiled pool house’s terrace.
"This is my haven," Prudence had warned Marianne one day as she was lounging by the terrace basking in the sunshine, "I am not ever to see you here!"

Though it did hurt, Marianne was starting get accustomed to Prudence's retorts, as they had been hurled at her ever since she moved there six years ago. 

“I haven’t seen you in months and your greeting is ‘you are late?’ Late for what?  If you’re in such a hurry, then leave!”  Prudence retorted clearly angry.  She was bent over the stove frying bacon.
“No, Prudence.  I’m late!” Marianne replied as she was feeling her stomach.
Prudence turned around quickly, almost dropping the frying pan, “pregnant?  Is it Amani’s?  Are you sure you are pregnant?  Have you done any test?”
Marianne couldn’t understand Prudence’s excitement.
“I don’t get how I got pregnant!  I have been taking my pills religiously!”
“You are just realizing now that you are pregnant while you are already as big as a phone booth?” Marianne could swear Prudence had changed the topic on purpose – as she always had something smart to say.  She laughed sarcastically as she said, “I always said you were dumb.  A waste of a good egg.”
“I thought I had gained weight!” Marianne tried to defend herself; “I have been eating quite a lot of late”.
“Of course, you have been, stupid!  You are freaking pregnant!  Whose is it anyway?”
 “It’s Amani’s, Prudence!” Marianne felt a surge of sadness as she said his name, “whose else would it be?  I’m going to get rid of it.  I can’t have it!”
“No!!  You can’t!  You are going to keep it!” She screamed at Marianne with a crazy look on her face.
“But he’s married, Prudence!  This was an accident.  I can’t have his baby,” her eyes started watering.
“Like hell they will!  You are going to keep it!  What I say goes!”
“I left him, Prudence,” Marianne replied as she blew her nose, “he’s married, didn’t you hear me?”
“What!? You are out of your mind!  How could you have broken up with him?  Why wasn’t I told?” she yelled, “You are going to go back to that man and make amends!  You are going to get him back!”

Marianne had met Amani at an art gallery show.  She had just moved to a new apartment near college and she was on a school break and desperately needed a part-time job to help her pay for the rent.  Prudence was happy to help look for a job – infact she was unusually too happy about it. 

The next day Prudence went to Marianne’s apartment with some news – something she rarely did.  Though the move was difficult and expensive, it was alot smoother than living with Prudence. 
“When will you finish unpacking?  It looks like a dumpster in here,” she wrung her nose as she made her way into the open plan kitchen carrying a basket of muffins.
“I haven’t had time, Prudence,” Marianne replied, “busy with research, work – you know.”
“Anyway, I got some good news,” Prudence interrupted, clearly not interested about Marianne’s life, “I got you a job at an art gallery.”
“No ways, Prudence!”  Marianne could not hide her excitement and astonishment.  She had always dreamt of working for an art gallery – and this news was a dream-come true .  She had taken a history of art course for the love of it.  Her Sundays were spent visiting art galleries and museum..
“The pay is not bad,” Prudence continued as she buttered a muffin, “and if you play your card rights you’ll be getting a whole lot more.”

Being an art connoisseur and lover, Amani collected art pieces a lot – and visited galleries.  He especially loved the Sanaa Art Gallery for its vast collection of ethnic and exotic pieces.  Her love and enthusiasm of the arts intrigued Amani – and in no time he noticed her.

Despite the nine years age difference, Amani and Marianne had a lot in common - from the love of arts, to nature, as well as the love of good food and good wine.  Amani introduced Marianne to his love of cars and horse racing; while Marianne introduced Amani to her world of poetry and jazz.  Amani and Marianne became inseparable – something Prudence was very happy about.  Marianne felt the heavens were smiling down at her – she had a great man and finally her relationship with Prudence was oddly getting better.

 “Come,” he said in a voice so low, it was almost a whisper in the quiet sigh of the sea breeze.  She had just gotten out of the Olympic sized pool, drenched in water, her bikini top clinging to her water glistering bronze skin.  They were at his beach house where they went every weekend.  
Her throat, constricted with rising excitement, would only permit her to smile meekly in response.   Excitedly mute, she reached one quivering hand to her right shoulder to pull down the bikini top, and then her left shoulder.  She then drew her top down, freeing her engorged nipples.
When Amani moved behind her, he came to embrace her, pressing himself hard against her.  Marianne gasped with urgent need of him to take him right there and then.  When his hands closed round her to cup her breasts and tease her ragging nipples she gasped out her demands in the coarsest words she could summon.
“No.  Not yet,” Amani muttered excitedly.
Her heart racing, her breathing so deep it caused her bared torso to convulse.  She cried in frustration as his hands sought out her bikini and drew it with such agonizing slowness.
“Please,” she begged as her libido threatened to explode.
Suddenly, without seeming transition, she was on the pool chaise and he was burying himself deep inside her.  Below him she started moving with a smooth rhythm, responding to her body’s increasing urgency.  The fire that had played about her loins was now being pressed deep inside her.  Effortlessly, he held her hips high as he drove even deeper into her again and again.  She felt flames licking her every nerve as she abandoned herself to the inevitable orgasmic climax.
Smiling with contentment, she snuggled him as they lay exhausted on the chaise.  She moved gently so as not to dislodge him.  “Do you love me?” she asked when she was at a comfortable position.
His throat working nervously, Amani got up and started mumbling like a madman as he walked up and down the terrace, “we met seven years ago.  We never clicked.  We tried but it didn’t work.  It couldn’t.  It was arranged.  The wealth had to stay in the family, you see, so it had to be her…”
“Amani,” Marianne called out confused, “what are you going on about?”
“I don’t love her.  I love you,” Amani went on as if he was chanting, “I love you, Marianne.  I never have loved her.  I don’t love my wife.”
”How … how …. “ Marianne stammered close to tears, “how …. When … how could you do this to me?”
Looking puzzled and wounded she ran to the changing room.  She turned to confront herself in the mirror.  Her face now stained with tears.  Slut, angrily she hissed at her own reflection.
She moved into the shower and turned on the faucets.  Standing in the shower, she felt her legs weaken.  She held onto the pipes as she allowed the water to wash away the dirt and the guilt she felt.
 

***************************

 
The water was ice cold.  Marianne grit her teeth and plowed through the waist-deep fountain water in the spacious courtyard.  Having lived in small apartments all her life, she could never understand such waste of space in mansions but tonight she was grateful for such space. 

The bottom of the fountain was slippery, made twice as precarious by the floating water plants.  As the evening became gray and cooler, she wondered if it was the cold or the fear that was causing her teeth to rattle.  She had been in there for a while watching Prudence.  She scrambled out and positioned herself behind the solid timber door as Prudence moved to the kitchen.  The massive wooden structure obscuring her.
She had to stop Prudence now, as the owners would be home in no time.  She had not thought of how she would explain of her being there – and she could definitely not explain of her relationship with Prudence. 
“Prudence,’ she couldn’t believe her voice was that steady, “what do you think you are doing?”
Marianne had followed her the whole day after Prudence had ran out of from her kitchen that evening.  Marianne had eventually gotten tired of driving behind her for hours,  but she dared not lose her.  Prudence had a wild look about her face when she raced to her car - that had scared the living daylights out of Marianne.
Prudence looked up, for a moment she seemed confused, “I’m doing this for you.”  Then calmly she pushed away the carefully concocted potion to the center of the kitchen island, not wanting to spill a drop.  Prudence seemed to know each corner of the house well, a point that left Marianne rather puzzled.
"Doing what for me?  I never asked you to do anything for me," Marianne walked slowly towards her.
“This would prevent her for ever getting pregnant,” she calmly pointed to the bowl, ”it will turn her barren.  He will leave her, marry you and your son will be the heir.  We will be rich baby.”
“No!  You are a sick and twisted woman!” Marianne said through clenched teeth, “you are going to stop this!  You can’t do this!!”
“Can’t you see he loves you?” she replied dreamily, her eyes glazed, “you were meant to be together.”
“No!  No!  You are going to stop this now,” Marianne screamed.
“Stupid ungrateful bitch!” she glared at me, “how much do you think I sacrificed for you?  You stopped my life!  I was kicked out of my home at sixteen because of you!  She said she couldn't stand being the laughing stock of the community!!!” 
“Yeah, she overpowered him – he said.  My father didn’t have balls to stand up for me,” Prudence continued screaming.  “his only fucking child!  He couldn’t even stand up for his wife - my mother!!  That measly fund he had set out for us– secretly I might add – is what kept us going!  Fucking bitch!!  I should have been sitting in his empire now!”
“You know what else she did?” she asked Marianne madly as if Marianne knew, "she went and immediately got pregnant!  Made sure it was a boy!  The bastard isn’t even my father’s!  She had to get him so to get the empire.  Now strangers are running it!  Her fucking Amani is sitting on what was supposed to be mine!  Bitch is still running the show!  Made sure Amani married her side of the family!  Again your pathetic grandpa didn’t say a word!  Do you think I didn’t know that bastard was married – I arranged for her to do her programme up north – away from him.   Hoping that you’d have gotten pregnant in time and bear him a son.  Being as stupid as you are you want to get rid of it!?  That money that bastard is sitting on is rightfully mine!  This should have been my house! “
Marianne stood there confused.  Prudence smirked, clearly enjoying Marianne’s sickening cognition.
Prudence went on, “you had robbed me of my life.  You all robbed me of my life,” she whispered in a chilly hardened voice, “you damn right owe me!  I made you!”
Marianne wanted to scream and cry at the same time – I didn’t ask to be born … I never asked anything of you… She felt angry.  She felt betrayed.  How could she? What is she talking about … No it can’t be true !   …   She felt confused, used and unloved.  She felt sick. 

Though the night was cool she was soaked with sweat.  She felt like she was on fire, the pain wracking her heart was unimaginable. She closed her eyes – willing the words to stop, but they did not.  She felt like her body was being crushed beneath a huge stone. 

Frantically she covered her ears, wanting to scream – but she could hardly breath to scream.  She was out of breath.  She then rushed to Prudence, wanting to stop her; she didn’t want to hear anymore.  Her ears were ringing.  … I never asked anything of you…  I did everything for you to love me … I never asked for you for anything … She couldn’t take it anymore.  Her insides screamed.  Stop!  Stop I say!  But Prudence went on.

"Was that why I was taken to a boarding school all my life," Marianne cried out.

"You are stupid, naive and worthless!  You thought I would waste my time nursing a bastard?" Prudence moved towards her.
Marianne stumbled backwards as the harsh ugly truth hit Marianne - it was an unthinkable deception.  The words seemed to suffocate her.  Suddenly, Marianne felt a rush of cold air.  She looked back.  She hadn’t realized that they had been taking little steps backwards as the words were being hurled at her – suddenly aware that she was standing on the timber decking.  They were standing beside the spillway pool in dark stone mosaic, which wrapped around the side of the house.  The split-level house had been elevated for the views.   Marianne felt nothing but empty space behind her.  The wood, sand and stone hues of the floors providing a neutral backdrop against the dark night.
“You are worthless,” Prudence sneered, “you are an ungrateful and worthless little bitch.  I should have gotten rid of you then!  I just kept you for revenge!”  Her breath was fetid in Marianne’s nostrils.

Prudence lost no time, with a violent surge and screaming with rage, she lunged for Marianne.    Marianne sensed she would need more than good luck.  She dodged to the side, dangerously off balance.  Prudence then stumbled against the spillway pool’s deck, her body glided backward over the balustrade into the dark night.  There was no scream.  Marianne stared below in obvious disbelief.
“Mamaa!!” Marianne called out to Prudence.  The scream seemed to echo through the still of the night.  For the first time she uttered the one word she was forbidden to mention by Prudence.

 

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