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Sunday, 1 September 2013

The Practicalities of Freezing Time: Chapter Seventeen

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Naledi had tried to ignore the adoration of the crowds and concentrated on the police and their questions instead.  It didn’t look like they would need her for long and, once a nurse had finished cleaning her knee and he had given her the once over, she was pretty much free to go.  She refused money from the grateful cyclist and only discovered he’d slipped some into her pocket anyway hours later, and let the police drive her home, aware that they had already called Mum to tell her where her daughter was and why.
     Naledi had gone over the accident and near-miss again and again in her head and thought of her mum’s reaction upon returning home several times, too.  She imagined tears, a bit of embarrassment, probably over the top appreciation.
     The one thing she had not imagined she would get was anger, but as soon as the police car pulled up outside her house and she saw the look of fury in her mum’s eyes, she knew that screaming was on the cards.
     Naledi’s mum said the bare minimum to the police, nodding at the appropriate moments and agreeing to watch out for the telltale signs of shock and making sure she said “Thank you” when they had to go.  Naledi hung back and slowly, quietly, followed her mum back into the house.
     The door clicked shut and she pretended to be having difficulty hanging her jacket up on a coat peg, feeling sick with tension as her mum prepared to shout.  Eventually, Naledi stopped pretending, closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath, and looked up to face her.
     “Well,” whispered her mum. “Well.”
     “Well?” Naledi questioned, feeling nerves turn to nervous anger.
     “Naledi Jameson. You utterly, utterly selfish bitch.”
     Naledi felt like she had been punched: “What?”
     “How dare you? You stupid little girl.”
     “I saved a man’s life!”
     “You could have been killed, you idiot! You could have died!”
     “I saved his life!” shouted Naledi, not holding back, direct in her mum’s face.
     Her mum did likewise: “I don’t care, you stupid bitch!”
     “What? You wish he had died?”
     “He is not my daughter, you are! Don’t you dare do something so stupid again!”
     “It was not stupid! I was a her–“
     “A hero? Oh, grow up!”
     “Mum!”
     “Don’t you dare, Naledi! Don’t you dare!”
     “I can’t believe this…”
     “If you want to rebel and get pissed because I’m with Clive–“
     “What?!” Naledi spluttered.
     “–then go and get pissed or ignore me like any normal person would do, but don’t you dare ever try something like this again. Don’t you bloody dare.”
     “This is not about you and Plant!” Naledi felt tears sting behind her eyes. “I was doing the right thing! This is not about bloody call-me-Clive at all, you stupid–“
     “He is trying his best!”
     “He is not my dad!” Naledi was screaming now. “They buried him and you couldn’t bloody wait, could you? You couldn’t wait to–“
     “I was done waiting, you stupid little girl!” Naledi’s mum was shaking now. “You have no bloody idea.”
     Naledi said nothing for a while. She let a tear roll away and then, almost silently, asked: “What do you mean?”
     “You have no idea,” repeated Naledi’s mum and walked away. Naledi watched her go into the kitchen and shut the door, then angrily ripped her jacket off the coat peg, shoved it on and left the house, slamming shut the door as she did so, hearing things rattle inside as she clenched her fists and simply stopped and screamed.  She had thought she was going to walk away, but she couldn’t even do that.  She just stood and looked up and screamed and screamed and screamed until she was done shouting.  She let out a breath and walked, slowly, away, lost in her own fug of thought and confusion and exhaustion.  Her knee pricked and her hands shook as she walked to a nearby park and rested up against the bark of a tree, its whorls digging in and depositing tiny pools of water from rain earlier across the small of her back.

     Angry, tired, confused, in pain, damp: Naledi, the hero.

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