Poetry readings had taken the capital city by storm. Ko Masimong, a dark cave of a bar had set aside one night each month for poets to display their talents. By the crowd that filled every chair in the place and most of the standing room as well, the concession to the arts was turning into quite a profitable business for the owner of the place. Kate wondered if they’d even be able to find Margaret and Dr. Basupi in the crowd, but just then Kate felt someone grab her arm and she turned.

“Detective Gomolemo, you made it,” Dr. Basupi shouted above the din. “We’ve got a table over here.”

Kate, John, Gomolemo, and Rachel followed him through the crowd to a raised platform at the back where Margaret sat alone at a round table. Kate introduced everyone and they sat down. A young woman with a shaved head and numerous piercings on her face was reciting a long convoluted poem about unrequited love. Kate hoped Dr. Basupi would not ask her opinion about the poetry, she knew nothing about it and was nervous she’d sound like a fool. Surprisingly, John seemed captivated.

“So what do you two do?” Margaret asked Gomolemo and Rachel.

“We’re both doctors… at Princess Marina,” Rachel said.

“Well that’s a good job, Kate, two doctors in the family,” Margaret teased. “So when’s the baby due?”

“I have about two months left.” Rachel looked radiant, pregnancy was agreeing with her.

“You must both be very excited. We don’t have children, but I’ve always thought it would be lovely,” Margaret looked away wistfully. “You know I wonder if either of you know of any doctor looking for work. We’ve been looking for a doctor for the student health centre for months now. We can’t seem to find anyone.”

Kate glanced at Gomolemo. He had thankfulness written all over his face, but Kate couldn’t accept the credit. She had known nothing about the job at UB. It was simply good luck. “Is that so?” Kate asked. “I suppose that would be a nice job.”

“It’s not bad. No where near as exciting as Princess Marina with the constant challenges there,” Margaret said. “We get students looking for condoms, the odd headache and upset stomach. Typical kinds of student ailments. Anything too complex gets referred to the hospital.”

Gomolemo looked at Rachel. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be at Princess Marina, I can assure you.” He thought it best to leave it there. If he pushed to much his wife would balk. He knew her well enough to know that. Maybe Rachel would mention it later, he could only hope.

“This is really wonderful. I’ve never been to anything like this before,” John said turning back to them and taking a sip from his beer. His engineering background and his current life as a farmer didn’t make a lot of room for the arts. But from looking at how much he was enjoying it, Kate thought they ought to try to make more of an effort.

“Well, I’m just about on,” Dr. Basupi said standing up. “I hope you’ll still be feeling that way after you hear me.” He got up and started moving toward the stage. He was dressed in a black shirt and jeans with a knee length black leather jacket. Kate felt a bit unsettled watching him, she loved John, that she knew, but Dr. Basupi was definitely a handsome man. She looked over at Margaret. She watched her husband climbing onto the makeshift stage and there was indifference in her eyes. Kate had noticed at the office the other day that they seemed to have tension between them, but she had thought it was minor, just a differing view on office politics, but now she got the impression that it was something much deeper.

Kate rested her hand on Margaret’s where it lay on the table. “Are you okay?”

Margaret turned and Kate was surprised to see tears in her eyes. “I loved that man so much not that long ago. I’m just not sure where he’s gone off to,” she whispered so only Kate could hear. Kate gave her a hug and wished they could disappear to talk, but Dr. Basupi was starting his set so the conversation would have to wait.

All of their eyes fixated on the stage as the man they knew assumed the role of a poet. His tall, proud body relaxed and began to move with the rhythm of the words that flowed in a syncopated beat of eight.

“She looked at me with black dead eyes

No longer lovers by moonlight

No longer soul mates by day

We are lost in the milieu

We are wayward ships on the wave

In one turn away, the emptiness descends.

And I am lying beside my lover all alone.”

Kate squeezed Margaret’s hand in hers and tried to take away the pain of the emotions he’d made so public. Margaret just looked forward, her eyes now dry. She watched her husband with the blank eyes of someone watching a stranger and Kate felt only sadness.