Sabelo was only allowed to look in on Winase for a few seconds. Then a nurse chased him away, telling him to come back during Sunday visiting hours.
Back at Tjhudu’s flat, he tried to grab some sleep on the mattress. It was a weird half-sleep, interrupted by moments of horror pulling him back to full consciousness.
What if he hadn’t woken? If he had slept on until morning with Winase in a diabetic coma beside him?
He didn’t think he would ever sleep properly again.
He ate breakfast with Tjhudu and Lolo. Then he packed up Winase’s toiletries, make-up and clothes, ready to take to the hospital.
Tjhudu drove him, and Lolo came too.
“I should take her some flowers,” Sabelo said, seeing a man selling bunches of roses at an intersection.
The price shocked him, but he paid up. It was worth it to see Winase’s smile when he gave them to her.
“They say I can’t leave yet.” With the smile fading, Winase’s face looked tired and puffy and still slightly grey, like putty.
“Damn! And I need to get the bus home to be at work tomorrow,” Sabelo reminded her. “You know what Ms Ledwaba is like about time off.”
“I know.” Winase sounded so down. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for.” He was fierce.
“And Tjhudu and I will fetch Winase and take her to the bus when she’s fit to travel,” Lolo promised. “Come Tjhudu, Sabelo and Winase need to be alone.”
Hardly alone, Sabelo thought, looking round the crowded ward. Most of the other patients had visitors, and he felt sorry for one older woman who didn’t have anyone.
“Sabelo, I’m no good for you.” Winase’s eyes were filling with tears. “All my nonsense, all this shit, always spoiling everything. Never being able to forget my diabetes for a moment … and still ending up in hospital.”
“You’re very good for me,” he argued, taking her hand, seeing the marks on her fingers where she tested. “My best thing.”
“But you must hate it–”
“What I hate is that we can’t get you the best hospitals and care, the same as rich people,” he said with a lot of anger left. “You and all the ordinary, poorer people like us. I seriously want to do something about that.”
“Like what?” Winase asked.
“I don’t know,” he answered her, with a feeling of helplessness rising again.
***
Tell us what you think: Is there anything Sabelo can do to change things?