Read Online Camdeboo Nights by Nerine Dorman - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Nerine Dorman
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mischievous in a blink of an eye.
“The whole lot of them, they’re all witches. The father too.”
“And you’re okay with this?” Helen asked, incredulous.
“Why not?” Anabel replied. “Your grandfather and Arwen’s grandfather were cousins.”
“We’re family?” Helen asked. Okay, this was getting a little too much information, too fast.
“Distant, yes. I’d hardly call it family now, the blood is quite diluted but, as you can see, Nieu Bethesda is a small place.”
“So, you don’t mind if I hang out with Arwen?”
“Why should I? You’d only go about it behind my back, in any case. Do I look stupid, child?”
Helen flushed, much to her brother’s evident amusement.
“Nice girl,” Mother said, as the phone began to ring shrilly from the kitchen.
“I’ll get it!” Damon shouted. He pushed his chair back with so much force it almost toppled over.
“Careful with the furniture!” Anabel exclaimed, half rising herself.
Helen’s stomach lurched. She’d nearly gotten sick every time she’d heard her cell phone ring this past week. Was it her father? Somehow the disappointment hurt more than she’d expected. Anabel had been the last–and that was only because she had called him last week to let him know his children had arrived safely. Even now, her memory of that conversation smarted.
No wonder Damon took his chance now to reach the phone before their grandmother did.
A wild hope transformed her mother’s face, momentarily dispelling the defeated slump in her shoulders, an attitude that tore Helen the most.
“It’s him , isn’t it?” she asked of Helen as she tried to rise.
“I’ll go find out,” Helen said. “You sit down, Mom.” The last thing she needed was for her mother to have another fit of hysterics.
The times she’d watched her mother tear at her hair while weeping hadn’t been particularly great. Then that night when her mom had run half-naked and wailing into the garden so that the entire neighborhood had heard. Pure mortification. Black helplessness.
These negative thoughts flared to the surface. At school it was easy to pretend things were getting better, that the medicine helped Mom, but the reality was far, far different at home–Anabel’s home–where Helen could see things were still the same, if not worse.
With a gentle touch, she pushed down on her mother’s shoulder, feeling how bony it was beneath its thin layer of skin.
“Sit, Mother.”
Helen’s mother obeyed. Anabel nodded and settled down to continue eating. Damon had been gone long enough, he could only be speaking to someone he knew, most likely Father. They hadn’t yet given the landline number to any of their friends from Cape Town, who kept in touch via social media, in any case.
She did not expect to find Damon blinking back tears when she reached him. Wordlessly, she squeezed his arm.
“Okay, okay...well, Helen’s here. I’m sure she’d also like to talk to you.”
He tried to sound brave but then Damon thrust the receiver in her hands and pelted upstairs. His slammed bedroom door resounded with a heavy boom that reverberated through the house.
“Dad?” Helen asked. She did not want to have this conversation but couldn’t kill the call either.
“Hey, my girl. I’m sorry I haven’t called earlier but it’s been...well...you know how Joburg is.”
The welter of hot and cold roiling in her belly made her want to shout at him but, instead, Helen said, “Hey Dad, I miss you.”
She did miss him. He may have been absent for the past six months but she couldn’t deny that she did love her father, and her love for him was a hollow ache in her chest.
“I miss you too, Helen. How are things down in the middle of the Karoo? I spoke to your grandmother last week, but...”
They both laughed. “Anabel has this way with words, doesn’t she?” Helen asked, despite the tears clouding her vision.
“Oh God, just pray that you never find out.”
“Mother misses
“The whole lot of them, they’re all witches. The father too.”
“And you’re okay with this?” Helen asked, incredulous.
“Why not?” Anabel replied. “Your grandfather and Arwen’s grandfather were cousins.”
“We’re family?” Helen asked. Okay, this was getting a little too much information, too fast.
“Distant, yes. I’d hardly call it family now, the blood is quite diluted but, as you can see, Nieu Bethesda is a small place.”
“So, you don’t mind if I hang out with Arwen?”
“Why should I? You’d only go about it behind my back, in any case. Do I look stupid, child?”
Helen flushed, much to her brother’s evident amusement.
“Nice girl,” Mother said, as the phone began to ring shrilly from the kitchen.
“I’ll get it!” Damon shouted. He pushed his chair back with so much force it almost toppled over.
“Careful with the furniture!” Anabel exclaimed, half rising herself.
Helen’s stomach lurched. She’d nearly gotten sick every time she’d heard her cell phone ring this past week. Was it her father? Somehow the disappointment hurt more than she’d expected. Anabel had been the last–and that was only because she had called him last week to let him know his children had arrived safely. Even now, her memory of that conversation smarted.
No wonder Damon took his chance now to reach the phone before their grandmother did.
A wild hope transformed her mother’s face, momentarily dispelling the defeated slump in her shoulders, an attitude that tore Helen the most.
“It’s him , isn’t it?” she asked of Helen as she tried to rise.
“I’ll go find out,” Helen said. “You sit down, Mom.” The last thing she needed was for her mother to have another fit of hysterics.
The times she’d watched her mother tear at her hair while weeping hadn’t been particularly great. Then that night when her mom had run half-naked and wailing into the garden so that the entire neighborhood had heard. Pure mortification. Black helplessness.
These negative thoughts flared to the surface. At school it was easy to pretend things were getting better, that the medicine helped Mom, but the reality was far, far different at home–Anabel’s home–where Helen could see things were still the same, if not worse.
With a gentle touch, she pushed down on her mother’s shoulder, feeling how bony it was beneath its thin layer of skin.
“Sit, Mother.”
Helen’s mother obeyed. Anabel nodded and settled down to continue eating. Damon had been gone long enough, he could only be speaking to someone he knew, most likely Father. They hadn’t yet given the landline number to any of their friends from Cape Town, who kept in touch via social media, in any case.
She did not expect to find Damon blinking back tears when she reached him. Wordlessly, she squeezed his arm.
“Okay, okay...well, Helen’s here. I’m sure she’d also like to talk to you.”
He tried to sound brave but then Damon thrust the receiver in her hands and pelted upstairs. His slammed bedroom door resounded with a heavy boom that reverberated through the house.
“Dad?” Helen asked. She did not want to have this conversation but couldn’t kill the call either.
“Hey, my girl. I’m sorry I haven’t called earlier but it’s been...well...you know how Joburg is.”
The welter of hot and cold roiling in her belly made her want to shout at him but, instead, Helen said, “Hey Dad, I miss you.”
She did miss him. He may have been absent for the past six months but she couldn’t deny that she did love her father, and her love for him was a hollow ache in her chest.
“I miss you too, Helen. How are things down in the middle of the Karoo? I spoke to your grandmother last week, but...”
They both laughed. “Anabel has this way with words, doesn’t she?” Helen asked, despite the tears clouding her vision.
“Oh God, just pray that you never find out.”
“Mother misses
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