All night long Sipho had terrible nightmares about Mrs Seretsi. “Call me Rebecca,” he heard her voice say again and again in his dreams. He couldn’t get rid of her, however hard he tried. He now had an image of her in his head that he wished he’d never seen, but it was too late, it would always be there: Mrs Seretsi smiling at him in her underwear. And when he refused to do as she wished, the way her face had twisted into something mean and ugly.

“Is something wrong?” Lesedi had said on the phone just before he had gone to bed.

“No, no. I’m just really tired.”

“I hope I’m not boring you?” Lesedi said, fishing for details about his bad mood.

“No, I just had such a long day,” said Sipho, then he had changed the topic and asked Lesedi about the dress she was going to wear to the end-of-year- function. He knew she loved to talk about this. He couldn’t tell her that there might not be an end-of-year function for him.

Sipho was well aware that what had happened to him was wrong, and somehow wicked and cruel, but he didn’t think he could do anything about it, except move on. How had he allowed her to trap him like that? And now, what would happen? He felt shattered – things had been going so well for him at Masego & Partners Scrap & Steel, and jobs were so hard to find. So, with a heavy heart Sipho got ready for work.

Perhaps he would see if he could speak to Mrs Karabo today. She might be able to help.

When Sipho arrived at the office to find everything was still right-side-up and running smoothly, instead of upside-down and out of order, like his life, it felt strange. He made his way to his desk and hung his jacket over his chair. Then he walked over to Mrs Karabo, who was standing at the coffee counter, making her first cup of the day. The ‘kick-starter’, she called it.

His eyes did not meet her eyes; he just couldn’t look straight at her when he spoke. He was too ashamed. “With respect Mrs Karabo, I need to report something.”

Mrs Karabo sensed that this was a personal matter and she said, “Let’s meet in the conference room.” Walking ahead determinedly, her coffee cup in the air, ready to fight any fight, no matter how dirty, Mrs Karabo led the way.

When they were alone, Sipho explained to her what had happened. He told her everything: about the massage in the office and how he thought that it would end there, but how Mrs Seretsi had drawn him to Mr Price and photographed him again, and tried to kiss him, wearing only a bra and panties. He explained how in the beginning it had seemed unthreatening as Mrs Seretsi had only asked him to make her coffee, or carry her laptop around.

But, he asked, “Where is it going? Where will it end?”

Furthermore, he told her that he had a girlfriend who had just written Matric and whom he loved dearly. “How will these events sound to her?”

Mrs Karabo listened with understanding. After considering a while, she said that the best thing to do was to expose Mrs Seretsi. She stressed that this was not the first time Mrs Seretsi had created problems for young male employees.

“And another thing,” said Mrs Karabo. “I know that Mrs Seretsi does not have a nephew to buy clothes for. They were probably meant for you, as a gift. But she didn’t get that far. Thank goodness.” And she smiled at Sipho. “I am proud of you, my boy. You did the right thing standing up to her. You’re the first one who has.”

Sipho was relieved. But it was one thing telling Mrs Karabo about Mrs Seretsi. Reporting this matter formally, to the Human Resources Department, as she advised – that was something else. Would they take his side? Would they believe him? Or would he be out of a job?

* * *

Tell us what you think: Does Sipho have enough hard evidence to make a case against Mrs Seretsi?