"Of course," She answered, examining the portrait.
We stared at her as she examined the sketch. She looked very pleased with the art. It was unnerving. It made me wonder if she would have done what she did to me to Lerato.
"Why do you call your mother Mrs Ndlovu?" Detective Wilson asked, whispering.
I snapped out of my thoughts amused by his question.
"Because I am working ," I lied.
He nods and continues to look at the paintings hanging around the house. Paintings that belonged to me originally...
***
A few years ago...
I stormed into the house enraged by what I had discovered from a classmate. I could not believe that she, my mother would do this.
"Mother? What is this?" I asked infuriated.
MY drawings were in the Murdoch magazines on the front cover with my mother's name as the artist behind the masterpieces.
By Mathapelo Ndlovu
"Oh, that's a magazine." my mother answered nonchalantly.
"You stole my drawings!" I exclaimed angry.
"I made them better." my mother replied calmly.
She lied... Nothing was changed. It was MY exact paintings and drawings just with a different signature and name.
"You know that I know that art was never for…"
***
"She drew these sketches in a hurry." She spoke out.
"She also drew the sketches with a lot of sentiments." she adds.
"Mo…Mrs Ndlovu we want to know what the portrait is about." I commented a bit annoyed.
I knew the sketches were drawn with a lot of sentiments and I knew exactly what the sketch represented, I was...I...I just was not confident in what she thought of the sketch.
"It's easy, these sketches are clearer than the sun rays. This Drawing depicts the chaos and a secret passage within the mountain, and if I had to guess which mountain I'd say Table Mountain." she answered scoffing and rolling her eyes.
"Thank you." I replied sighing.
I was relieved that what I thought was right. I turn to see Detective Wilson smiling proudly. I looked into his eyes and I could tell what he wanted to say, he wanted to tell me that he understood art.
***
"It's a painting of a field, what is there to understand?" He asked me, frowning.
***
"Thomas you should come over for dinner in two weeks, I would like to introduce you to my daughter," my mother suggested, smiling with Thomas.
I stared at my mother, shocked and disgusted. Why did my mother think it was okay to introduce my ex-boyfriend to my sister? This is not okay!
"Let's go, Detective Wilson," I ordered annoyed grabbing his arm.
"I can't wait to see you in two weeks," my mother spoke waving at Thomas.
He smiled and waved back at her. He disgusted me. How could he think it was okay to attempt to date my sister after he broke my heart? He probably didn't feel any ounce of shame. I stared at him and scrunched my nose up in disgust.
***
"Ana, do you want to go to the museum with me?" he asked.
"You don't like art. Are you sure you want us to go to the museum?" I asked him.
"If course, after all, I have to compare those horrible art to your worth." He answered with a smile.
***
"It was nice seeing your mother again." He said, happily.
"Yeah, let's go." I said in a very dismissive voice.
To him, it was nice because he wasn't betrayed. He doesn't have to worry about betrayals.
"So why didn't you take the surname Ndlovu?" he asked.
"Stop asking questions." I snapped at him.
He kept quiet for a few moments before he looked at me... His eyes were filled with pity for me and it...it...it disgusted me. I felt revolted by the pitiful gaze he felt for me.
"I'm just trying to learn more about you Ana." he spoke.
"Don't call me Ana." I warned him.
He lost all privileges of calling me anything except for my surname. He lost it all and I wasn't going to give it to him. I would not and do not want to give it to him.
"Don't be like this." he pleaded.
"Tho…Detective Wilson, unless you want me to leave you here, then call me Ana again and I'll leave you." I said, annoyed and stern.
***
"Ana, did you really think I wanted to be with someone like you?' he asked me before scoffing.
He looked at me with repugnance and revolted at me. His eyes were telling me how disgusted he was at the sight of me.
"I only dated you as a joke, me and my friends can laugh about." he added.
Everyone started laughing at me. I had become a joke to them, a joke they could and would never forget.
***
"I'm sorry," He said.
His eyes held so much sobriety, but I couldn't believe him. He could be pretending at this moment. My cheeks felt wet and I felt his hand touch me for the first time in eleven years. It felt the same way it did back then. I shut my eyes tightly and moved my face away from his hand. I couldn't get lost in his touch, I just couldn't. I wiped my tears away and got into the driver's seat. He too got in the car and I could feel his eyes on me. It was overbearing and it made me want to be away from him so I stepped on the accelerator and sped over the speeding limits.
I just wanted to get out of the car and away from him. His presence was overbearing.
"Det… "
The memories are overbearing. It brought back repugnant memories...It made me feel it a...
"Detective Nkwana!" he exclaimed.
I snapped out of it and stepped on the brakes and the car stopped abruptly. The car behind crashed into them.
"Are you crazy?" he asked, shocked.
"Sorry," I let out still trying to collect myself.
"Sorry?" He asked, shocked.
"Let's switch." He adds after a few moments.
Suddenly we hear a banging on the window. We both turn and stare at the muscular man banging on the window. I rolled down my window and stared at the man.
"Miss, You made me crash into your car!" exclaimed the man fuming.
"And what about it?" I asked, calmly.
It didn't matter to me because I had better things to do and his car would not have crashed if he had driven within the speed limit.
"And what about it? Are you Fucking Crazy?"He shouted.
"Stop Fucking shouting!" I yelled, getting out of the car.
"Look at this fucking crazy woman." he said laughing at me.
I slapped the man and he looked at me in shock. His eyes were filled with rage. 'Who the fuck did he think he is? If he thinks I'm crazy then I'll make him crazy,' I thought
"Don't call me crazy!" I spoke, pointing at him with her index finger.
He attempts to slap me but Detective Wilson interferes. Of course, he does. He probably thought I couldn't defend myself. 'Fucking Fucker,' I thought as I stared at Detective Wilson.
"Aren't you a brave one?" Detective Wilson asked in a mocking tone.
"Let go of my hand!" He shouted.
"Listen here, I don't know what you're saying but I do know that you won't be touching her." Thomas explained, calmly twisting the man's arm.
It was then that I realized that the detective didn't understand us. I had forgotten that he was a white man. He didn't understand Xhosa.
The man groaned in pain as Thomas twisted his hand.
"You are hurting me! Release me before I beat your ass!" He said in Xhosa, trying to wriggle his hand out of Detective Wilson's grip.
"Do you know who I am? I'm a detective, I can arrest you for interfering with the investigation." I said, showing him my badge.
The man stared at us surprised and frightened. He then cautiously smiles at them.
"I'm sorry, my sister. You know what, let me pay you so that you can fix your car." He said going on his knees.
I scoffed before sighing. 'Why did he start something like this instead of just talking calmly to me?' I wondered.
"Detective let's go." I said, looking at the man.
He let the man go before hopping into the driver's seat.
"Thank you, but I didn't need your help." I said, getting into the passenger seat.
"I would be an awful man if I didn't try to help you." he said, starting the car.
"You are an awful man."
These are the words I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell him that I thought he was an awful person, but my heart stopped the words from forming.
"So where are we going now?" He asked, driving.
"To the Hotel," I answered.
"Hotel?" He asked, confused.
"Oh, it seems like you don't know how things work here." I mocked him, snorting.
"Huh?" He said, stopping at a red light.
"We have to wait for two weeks before we can continue with this case," I tell him.
Even if we do go to Table Mountain we would not know what we are looking for so it would be better for us to wait for the Nkosi guy.
"The police are going to take their sweet time to find every person with the name Nkosi. All we have to do is wait." I add, sighing.
He looks at me before he nods.