Sebastian spoke fast, while Thuli clung to the door handle on the back seat, wincing every time her mother raced around a corner.

“Sorry darling.” Her mother’s face was anxious in the rear view mirror.

“Don’t worry about me, Mom. Just get there.”

“Come on, girl,” Phindile urged their rattletrap car. “Come on.” The engine whined as she forced it to speeds it had never travelled at, even when it was brand new.

“Ok,” Phindile said, as Sebastian finished his story. “When we get there, you kids make your way into the hall. If you see any of the trade union reps – do you know who they are Sebastian?”

He shook his head.

“OK then, get Thuli into the hall as fast as you can. She’ll point them out to you. Go up to them quietly. Don’t draw attention to yourself. Tell them to slip out of the hall very unobtrusively and meet me and Thuli’s dad. Meantime, I’ll get to your father, Thuli, and tell him what’s happening. We’ll be waiting just off the stage. By the time they join us, we’ll have come up with a plan. OK?”

“OK,” Sebastian and Thuli said together.

“Now remember, no fuss, no bother. Quietly. We don’t want these, these–”

“Infiltrators,” Sebastian said quietly. “That’s what my dad called them.”

“Yes, quite right. We don’t want these infiltrators to know that we’re onto them.”

Thuli hobbled into the hall, clinging tightly to Sebastian. They made their way to one of the union reps whom Thuli recognised and from there on it was like watching a well-oiled machine move smoothly into action. The man they had spoken to got up casually and spoke quietly to another, then he left the hall, followed by another and then another. Quickly and quietly they slipped out. Thuli counted ten in all.

And then, a few minutes later, they were back. Thuli watched them as they scanned the crowd. Twenty men, Sebastian’s father had said. And that’s how many they moved up to, spoke to and then took by the arm and walked out of the hall. The infiltrators were dotted here and there throughout the crowd, but soon identified.

“Good thing too,” Sebastian said to Thuli. “They won’t understand what’s happening until they get outside, and then it will be too late. They’ll realise they have been exposed and are outnumbered by genuine workers; that we know who their paymaster is.”

For the first time since she had met Sebastian that afternoon, Thuli felt able to breathe properly. “So you think it’s going to be OK?” she asked.

“I know it will be,” said Sebastian.

Thuli looked down at the same time as he did. Even though she was sitting on a chair, not in any need of support, she was still gripping his arm tightly. He touched her hand gently, removed her vice grip from his arm, and then held her hand, their fingers entwined.

“Look,” Thuli said. “There’s my dad.”

Moses strode onto the stage and no-one would ever have guessed that disaster had been narrowly avoided. He spoke easily, sounding just like he did when the family was talking around the table. The debate that followed got noisy at times, everyone seemed to have something to say, but Thuli watched as her dad spoke gently and kindly to everyone.

Big decisions were made and people’s faces were grave as it was finally decided that the workers would go on strike. Their voices would be heard. They would down tools and refuse to work until a reasonable compromise was reached.

Thuli’s eyes shone as she listened to her father speak. She saw Sebastian watching Moses closely and her heart filled with sorrow for him. He had to go home now, to a corrupt father who had been prepared to betray a friend for the sake of power and wealth.

*****

In the study of Mpumi Mokae.

Mpumi is on his phone, his low voice grovelling to his faceless master.

We only hear his side of the conversation.

• Yes sir. I know. I have failed.

• I will do better next time, I promise.

• What do you mean – ‘there probably won’t be a next time’?

• But you can’t do that to me!

• I have given my life to this company.

• Yes, yes, I know sir, but with all due respect–

• You were the one who ordered me to do those things, sir.

• But you told me–

• Yes, sir. I see. Nothing ties you to the strike.

• So, your hands are clean and mine are dirty?

Mpumi’s voice is getting louder by the minute. He is sweating.

• You’re telling me that everything I did, organised, was illegal? But you–

• What do you mean, I should never have tried to stop a legal strike? I can’t believe you are saying this. You… You bastard! You can’t do this to me!

• I’ll sue. I swear to God, I’ll sue.

• Good luck? No, no. Don’t say that. You’re the one who needs good luck. I’ll take you down, I swear. If I’m going down, you’re going down with me.

Mpumi is almost screaming now:

• I hope your grapes rot! Every last one of them. I hope those, those, people, those bloody workers never come back.

Mpumi’s face is grey. He sinks into the chair behind his enormous desk and gazes blankly at the expensive artwork on the wall.

Four days later

Thuli taps out a message to Sebastian on her cell …

Hi thr. Hw things?

Hey – thanks for all the messages. It’s good to have someone to talk to.

So, hw ur dad

Okay, considering. He’s definitely lost his job. Says they’re making him the fall guy.

Thts nt so gr8. Sori.

In a way I think it might be tho.

???

They were talking last night. First time in ages they haven’t been yelling at each other.

Thts gud?

We have to move, sell this place. I thght my mom wld be screaming, telling him he was no good, but …

She wsnt?

She had her arm around him. Telling him he’d be okay. We’d be okay.

And thn?

I went back to my room. Think my dad was about to cry. He wouldn’t want me to see that.

Things hav a strange way of workin out. Thts wat my mom alwys says. Talkin of which …

???

My folks want u 2 com 4 suppa sumtym soon.

Are you serious? After what my dad did?

They think ur a ‘very nyc young man’. Want 2 get 2 know u beta.

No pressure …

None.

And what about you?

I think ur a very nyc young man 2

And you’d like to get to know me better?

Yea, Sebastian. I think I wld.

***

Tell us what you think: What options does Sebastian have now? Can his father start afresh?