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name? She was the mother of his son after all.
Something wasn’t right. And Lacey couldn’t quite put her finger on it. ‘Did you remember to brush your teeth at night, child?’ Nandi asked, taking the boy from Tate’s arms.
    Themba looked abashed. ‘Sometimes I forgot… but Matron always knew and made me do it.’ Themba turned to Lacey. ‘Do you remember to brush your teeth at night?’
    ‘I certainly do,’ Lacey confirmed.
‘Every night? All by yourself?’
‘Every single night.’
‘But if you did forget, your Mama would make you do it, wouldn’t she?’
    Suddenly, Lacey’s heart began to pound in her chest and she realised that she couldn’t speak. She felt that familiar knot in her throat and the tears start to prickle at the backs of her eyes. She looked away, anxious not to let anyone see the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her, as they always did when she thought about her mother.
    Completely oblivious to her turmoil, Themba waited patiently for her reply. Hurriedly, she pushed the painful images back into that secret place; a place hidden deep in her memories. ‘My mummy always made sure I remembered to brush my teeth when I was a little girl. Now, she… Well, I’m grown up now, so I can do it all by myself.’
    ‘That is enough, child,’ Nandi took Themba by the shoulders and pointed him in the direction of the house. ‘You must go and change out of your school uniform before you spoil it.’
    ‘Can I wear my amabhetshu now that I am home?’ Themba enquired over his shoulder as he skipped into the house. He wanted to wear his little loincloth that was suspended from his waist with a thong, like all the other African boys in his village. He didn’t really like having to wear so many clothes at school. His blazer was hot and scratchy. And the sleeves were too long and dangled around his wrists. Now that he was back home, he could wear his proper clothes.
    ‘I’ll leave his trunk in the car,’ Tate called after them. ‘I’ll drive you both down to the village when he’s got some grub and a cold drink inside him.’
‘What a beautiful child,’ Lacey said when she and Tate were alone. ‘What school does he go to?’
    ‘I managed to get him a place at Whitestones Academy in Pretoria. It’s the best prep school in the country. He’s only just started there, but I think he’s okay with it. He can be a bit shy sometimes, but he’s in with a good bunch of lads. He seemed just fine with you, though. Took to you immediately. You sure have a way with kids … and dogs, too, come to think of it!’
    ‘I love children,’ Lacey said. ‘And Themba is so sweet. It’d be hard not to love him. I think it’s great that you’re putting him through school. Nandi must be really grateful.’
‘It was the least I could do,’ Tate stuffed his hands into his pockets and stared into the distance. ‘Given the circumstances ….’
    Lacey bit back to urge to ask more questions. For a moment there, she’d thought that maybe Tate wanted to reach out to her, to share his thoughts and feelings. But she sensed that something was holding him back. He seemed troubled at times, perhaps even a bit lonely?
Her heart went out to him.
    ‘Well I for one think it’s brilliant that Themba’s enjoying school. He’s clearly a bright boy. He’ll go far. And Nandi’s so lucky to have you here for support. Right now, though, I reckon I should go and do some work. Matshana seems to have this incredibly relaxing quality about it. Just being here makes me forget all about Cape Town and the stresses and strains of life.’
‘Is that such a bad thing?’ asked Tate.
    ‘Maybe not, but it won’t get my magazine feature written. And my father wouldn’t be best pleased if he thought I was just idling away my time here. I’m here to write an article for his magazine. End of story, as far as he’s concerned!’
    ‘Well if you’re looking for material for your story, the artworks have just come in from