her type, but she didnt want to let on and tried to seem inconspicuous.
The minister stood up and crossed to his wife to take the tray from her. Thank you, Mamma, he said.
Its a pleasure, she said, smiling tight-lipped at Christine. Her eyes said, for the tiniest moment, I know your kind, before she softly closed the door.
In a detached way the minister placed the tray on the desksandwiches, chicken drumsticks, gherkins and serviettes.
How did you meet? she asked. He had gone back to his chair.
Rita and I? At university. Her car broke down. She had an old Mini Minor. I was passing on my bicycle and stopped.
Was it love at first sight?
He chuckled. It was for me. She had a boyfriend in the army.
Why, she would have liked to ask. What did you see in her? What made you choose her? Did she look like the ideal rectory wife? A virgin? Pure. She imagined the romance, the propriety, and she knew it would have bored her to death at that age.
So you stole her away from him? she asked, but wasnt really interested anymore. She felt an old jealousy rising.
Eventually. He smiled in a self-satisfied way. Please, have something to eat.
She wasnt hungry. She took a sandwich, noting the lettuce and tomato filling, the way the bread was cut in a perfect triangle. She placed it on a plate and put it on her lap. She wanted to ask how he had managed to wait, how he had suppressed his urges until after the wedding. Did student ministers masturbate, or was that a sin too in their world?
She waited until he began to eat a drumstick, holding the leg bone in his fingers. He leaned forward so that he ate above the plate. His lips glistened with fat.
I had sex the first time when I was fifteen, she said. Proper sex.
She wanted him to choke on his food, but his jaw only stalled a moment.
I chose the boy. I picked him out. The cleverest one in the class. I could have had anyone, I knew that.
He was helpless with the chicken half eaten in his hand and his mouth full of meat.
The more my father prayed about the demons in me, the more I wanted to see them. Every night. Every night we had to sit in the lounge and he would read from the Bible and pray long prayers and ask God to cast the Devil out of Christine. The sins of the flesh. The temptations. While we held hands and he sweated and talked till the windows rattled and the hair on my neck stood up. I would wonder, what demons? What did they look like? What did they do? How would it feel if they came out? Why did he focus on me? Was it something I couldnt help? At first I didnt have a clue. But then boys at school began to look at me. At my body.
She didnt want the plate on her lap anymore. She plonked it down on the desk and folded her hands under her breasts. She must calm down; she needed him, perfect wife and all.
Her father would inspect her every morning like one of his men. He would not let her out of the door until he had approved the length of her skirt. Sometimes he would send her back to tie up her hair or to wash off some barely visible mascara, until she learned to leave a little earlier and apply her make-up in the mirror of the school toilets. She did not want to forgo the newly discovered attention of boys. It was a strange thing. At thirteen she had been just one of the crowd: flat-chested, pale and giggly. Then everything began to growbreasts, hips, legs, lipsa metamorphosis that made her father rabid and had an odd effect on all the men around her. Matric boys began to greet her, teachers began to linger at her desk, Standard Sixes began to look at her sideways and whisper to each other behind cupped hands. Eventually she twigged. It was during this time that her mother began to work and Christine became part of a group who went to a parentless house after school to smoke and occasionally to drink. And Colin Engelbrecht had said to her from behind the blue cloud of a Chesterfield that she had the
The minister stood up and crossed to his wife to take the tray from her. Thank you, Mamma, he said.
Its a pleasure, she said, smiling tight-lipped at Christine. Her eyes said, for the tiniest moment, I know your kind, before she softly closed the door.
In a detached way the minister placed the tray on the desksandwiches, chicken drumsticks, gherkins and serviettes.
How did you meet? she asked. He had gone back to his chair.
Rita and I? At university. Her car broke down. She had an old Mini Minor. I was passing on my bicycle and stopped.
Was it love at first sight?
He chuckled. It was for me. She had a boyfriend in the army.
Why, she would have liked to ask. What did you see in her? What made you choose her? Did she look like the ideal rectory wife? A virgin? Pure. She imagined the romance, the propriety, and she knew it would have bored her to death at that age.
So you stole her away from him? she asked, but wasnt really interested anymore. She felt an old jealousy rising.
Eventually. He smiled in a self-satisfied way. Please, have something to eat.
She wasnt hungry. She took a sandwich, noting the lettuce and tomato filling, the way the bread was cut in a perfect triangle. She placed it on a plate and put it on her lap. She wanted to ask how he had managed to wait, how he had suppressed his urges until after the wedding. Did student ministers masturbate, or was that a sin too in their world?
She waited until he began to eat a drumstick, holding the leg bone in his fingers. He leaned forward so that he ate above the plate. His lips glistened with fat.
I had sex the first time when I was fifteen, she said. Proper sex.
She wanted him to choke on his food, but his jaw only stalled a moment.
I chose the boy. I picked him out. The cleverest one in the class. I could have had anyone, I knew that.
He was helpless with the chicken half eaten in his hand and his mouth full of meat.
The more my father prayed about the demons in me, the more I wanted to see them. Every night. Every night we had to sit in the lounge and he would read from the Bible and pray long prayers and ask God to cast the Devil out of Christine. The sins of the flesh. The temptations. While we held hands and he sweated and talked till the windows rattled and the hair on my neck stood up. I would wonder, what demons? What did they look like? What did they do? How would it feel if they came out? Why did he focus on me? Was it something I couldnt help? At first I didnt have a clue. But then boys at school began to look at me. At my body.
She didnt want the plate on her lap anymore. She plonked it down on the desk and folded her hands under her breasts. She must calm down; she needed him, perfect wife and all.
Her father would inspect her every morning like one of his men. He would not let her out of the door until he had approved the length of her skirt. Sometimes he would send her back to tie up her hair or to wash off some barely visible mascara, until she learned to leave a little earlier and apply her make-up in the mirror of the school toilets. She did not want to forgo the newly discovered attention of boys. It was a strange thing. At thirteen she had been just one of the crowd: flat-chested, pale and giggly. Then everything began to growbreasts, hips, legs, lipsa metamorphosis that made her father rabid and had an odd effect on all the men around her. Matric boys began to greet her, teachers began to linger at her desk, Standard Sixes began to look at her sideways and whisper to each other behind cupped hands. Eventually she twigged. It was during this time that her mother began to work and Christine became part of a group who went to a parentless house after school to smoke and occasionally to drink. And Colin Engelbrecht had said to her from behind the blue cloud of a Chesterfield that she had the
Similar Books
