From Pumla Maseko’s Facebook page:
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The Baby Daddy Search is narrowing. I’ve got it down to three candidates. There’s Luso, the bad boy. He won’t interfere with how I raise the kid and he played a year of professional soccer so the child will get great sport genes. There’s Chester who already has three kids by three different baby mamas so he’s super fertile. And there’s Dumisani who is kind of boring and stable but he likes me. What do you say, peeps?

Nonna Mzambo Girl, you make me laugh. Choosing the father of your child on Facebook. LOL! You nuts.

Victoria Mooki Go for the football player. Your kid will thank you some day. It’s nice for a boy to be good at sport, you’ll see. Or even a girl.

Pumla Maseko Good point, Vix. Thanks.

Jamie Burchell I’m going to vote for the underdog. I like the sound of Dumisani. Boring and stable are not bad qualities in a baby daddy. And he likes you! Bonus points for him.

Michael Blackthorn Excuse me butting in. I don’t know you very well, but I have to ask. Are you planning on telling the guy about this or are you just going to trap him?

Pumla Maseko Michael, I’m planning on having consensual, unprotected sex where he knows I’m not on the pill. That’s not entrapment. He knows what the risks are just as well as I do.

Zanele Motsoepeng Steer clear of Chester. You don’t want all that baby-mama drama in your life. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about. 

Pumla Maseko Yeah, good point.

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So Pumla was going ahead with the baby thing. Jamie tried to imagine her as a mother and found it wasn’t hard. She would probably make a success of motherhood, just as she made a success of everything else she did. Her days as a rampant killer of sugar-sack babies were far behind her.

And maybe she did have hidden maternal longings. Maybe it wasn’t just a matter of conforming to expectations. Jamie decided to give her the benefit of the doubt and be more supportive.

In the meantime, it was taking her too long to respond to all the comments on her blog. By now she should already have been working on the next day’s instalment of her novel. But something about the pigeon story had captured the imagination of her readers. The post had gone viral, attracting record numbers of shares on Facebook and Twitter and nearly a hundred comments. Speculation was running rampant about who her mystery stalker could be, and what the meaning behind his gruesome tokens was.

Jamie could hardly keep track of the theories. He was in love with her. He hated her. He was obsessed with her. He was someone who’d met her in the bakery. He was someone who’d found her online. He was an old boyfriend. He wanted to be a new boyfriend. He wasn’t a he at all, but a she riddled with bunny-boiler jealousy. There was even a school of thought that he was Tom. Several commenters found it significant that Tom had been with her on both occasions when she had discovered the half-dead animals. On all three occasions, if they counted the time she’d found footprints in her garden. The fact that he’d been sitting next to her when they’d heard the thump on the window didn’t seem to matter.

The phone rang and Jamie reached for it automatically, forgetting to check caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Jamie. This is your stalker speaking.”

She hesitated for a fraction of a second and then laughed. “Ha bloody ha, Ella.”

“I thought it was quite amusing,” her sister said.

“You would. What’s up?”

“I actually am phoning about your stalker. To check whether you’re okay and so forth. You can’t post stuff like that on your blog and expect your family not to worry.”

Jamie thought about this for a moment. “So are you phoning on your own behalf, or did Mom put you up to this? She’s only rung me twice already this week to nag me about security.”

“I haven’t been appointed family spokesperson if that’s what you’re worried about. Mom may have suggested that I drop her an SMS to let her know you’re okay, but it was my idea to call.”

“Okay…”

“So, how are you really?”

“I’m fine. It’s all good fodder for the blog. You wouldn’t believe the page views I’m getting.”

“Aren’t you scared, though?”

“Not really.” As she said it, Jamie realised this was almost true. “I was worried about the cats for a bit, but then I remembered they never go out of the garden anyway. And Dad is sending a company to install electric fencing all the way around the property. So this guy, whoever he is, won’t be able to get in again.”

“Well, that’s something. Listen, we were thinking, Caroline and I, that we should come and see you. Like a girls’ night kind of thing.”

“You mean to check up on me?”

“No. For heaven’s sake, Jamie, don’t be so prickly. We haven’t hung out in ages. We want to hear all about this Tom guy. Maybe even meet him.”

Jamie pulled a face at Watson, who had wandered in to rub against her leg. “We’re not really at the meeting-each-other’s-family stage of the relationship. In fact, it’s a bit of a stretch to call it a relationship at all. Every time we start making progress there’s some kind of crisis to keep us apart.”

“Hey, maybe that’s what the stalker wants. Maybe he’s trying to keep you and Tom apart.”