Faith stirred sugar into the mug she had been handed while staring into the middle distance. Jamie fought the urge to hurry her along. Faith had her own narrative style, which involved ordering her thoughts in advance. When the story finally came it would be comprehensive and accurate, and that’s what counted.

Faith took a long sip of her tea and sighed again, a contented sound this time.

“It was two years ago. No, not so much. Maybe one year and a half. Before you come to live here. This man, this Mr Elliot, is working at home when a lady rings at his door. She is from far away. Far, far away. From up there.” She gestured northwards. “She is a bokufika.”

“An immigrant,” Jamie translated. “A Zimbabwean?”

“No, she is not from Zimbabwe. Her skin is very dark and her eyes are like this.” Faith drew circles in the air in front of her face to indicate round eyes. “She is from somewhere else. Not Zimbabwe. Not Nigeria. Somewhere else.”

“Okay. Was she looking for work?”

“Yes, she was looking for work. And Mr Elliot, he say to her he already has Vuyiswa to work for him. He has no work for her. But this lady, she can’t stand up. She is so sick, she is fainting. And she is carrying a baby on her back. A baby that has just been born. Mr Elliot, he hears it crying and crying, like a baby that has not been fed.”

Faith paused to take another sip of tea.

“Then what happened?”

“Mr Elliot, he runs to the front gate and he catches her before she faints. He carries her inside and lays her down on his bed. He picks up the baby, but it cries and cries. The mother, she has no milk for it. So he calls the ambulance and he rides in the ambulance with her to the hospital. And all the time, he is holding the baby like this.” Faith mimed clutching a tiny baby to her heart. “The ambulance men, they have no milk for the baby, but they say there will be milk at the hospital. The child, he stops crying and he goes to sleep. Mr Elliot thinks he is dying, but it is not the child that dies, but the mother.”

“No!”

“Yes, the mother dies in the ambulance before they get to the hospital.”

“That’s terrible. Did she have AIDS?”

“No.” Faith sighed. “Not AIDS. It is a fever.” She cupped her hands over her lower abdomen. “A very bad fever. Sometimes the mother gets it when she has just had a baby. If she doesn’t get medicine very soon, she dies. This mother dies.”

“That’s awful. And what about the baby?”

“At the hospital, the nurses give Mr Elliot a bottle of milk for the baby. Then the social worker comes and she wants to take the baby, but Mr Elliot won’t give it to her. He says it is his baby now and he will look after it. So then the police come and they try to take the baby, but Mr Elliot won’t give it to them either. So then they arrest him and take him to jail.”

“Good grief.” Jamie turned her eyes towards Elliot’s house. “Yes. Mr Elliot, he asks to see a magistrate and he knows what to say to the magistrate because he is a lawyer, that one.”

“A lawyer?” Jamie frowned. “Are you sure? What kind of lawyer spends so much time at home?”

Faith shrugged. “This is what Vuyiswa tells me. He talks to the magistrate for a long time and makes him believe it is best for the child to stay with him. Then there are papers and visits from social workers and a case in court, and after many, many months the child is his. That child is his own son now.”

“And he’s not married?”

“No, he is not married. You know this man, Jamie. You told me. You see him when you go for your run in the morning.”

Jamie took a moment to process this. She closed her eyes and imagined adding mirrored sunglasses, a Jeep cap, a running vest and shorts to the crazy man who’d shouted at her that morning.

“No way! He’s the hot guy? He’s Hot Running Guy? Why didn’t you tell me he lived right next door?”

“I thought you knew already.”

“I had no idea. I thought he just lived in the area. Well, that’s one way to get over a crush fast. He’s the rudest man I’ve ever met.”

They both jumped as the metal flap on the letter box attached to Jamie’s front gate slammed.

***

Tell us: What do you think is in the letter box?