“How is your wife, Mr Ndlovu?” asked the Inspector as they sat down.

“Phillip, please. Call me Phillip,” said Phillip, trying to buy himself time.

He didn’t know how to answer the Inspector. My wife is losing her mind, she could possibly have killed a man, Phillip thought to say. “She’s coping, considering what she went through,” he offered instead.

“Good, good,” the Inspector said, rubbing his hands together. It made Phillip all the more uncomfortable. What made him even more nervous was the staunch stare he was getting from the young constable. He looked very serious.

“What can I help with, Inspector?” asked Phillip, feeling like he was about to crack under the pressure.

“It’s about Lucas, Lucas Madonsela,” said the Inspector, apparently not taking note of how hard Phillip swallowed.

*****

“You’re here, ma’am,” said the man’s voice, bringing Nono back to the present.

She looked around in surprise and noticed that she was outside her house. The cab had parked opposite and on looking to her front door Nono’s heart almost jumped out of her chest.

The first thing she saw was the uniformed constable. She dropped her purse because her hands were shaking so much. And then Phillip walked out with another man. Nono recognised him; it was Inspector Leeu – the man who had investigated her case.

Just as they were walking out of the gate, Nono bent right to the floor, pretending to pick up her purse.

“Are you OK ma’am?” the cabbie asked, wishing to get paid and get out of there.

“Yes, yes,” Nono said picking out a R200 note from the purse. She had smaller notes; she just needed to buy time and wait for change. Please leave, she silently prayed.

The cab driver was struggling to find change and Nono was more than happy to wait. She was thankful that Phillip had insisted that she take a cab home. “I probably will be out or busy packing. I don’t want to lose track of time,” he had said.

Finally the men got into the white Polo Classic parked outside her gate and pulled off. As soon as it had disappeared from view, Nono told the driver to keep the change, got out of the cab and ran towards her house. When she came bursting through the door, she was breathless.

Phillip was sitting at the kitchen counter, with a glass of whisky in his hand. Phillip never drank, especially during the day. They only kept those bottles for when they entertained, back when they used to have guests. He was sitting with the glass in one hand, the other holding his head. Her heart sank.

Nono’s heart was pounding. All she could think about was what the police were doing in her house. The hospital management had not let her do any serious work today; in fact, she was sent home early – she had just escaped greeting the Inspector herself, at her door! She knew she needed to ask Phillip. She braced herself: “Were they looking for me?”

Phillip didn’t even look at her. He rose and went to fetch the box he discovered earlier, from the bedroom. He put it on the kitchen counter and waited, for a comment, a reaction, something, he just waited. When no sound came from his wife, Phillip opened the box and took out Nono’s diary with the clipping still in it.

“Do you know of Lucas’s whereabouts?” he asked softly. “Apparently he is missing.”

He was afraid of what his wife’s answer might be, but he needed to know. He had made up his mind earlier that whatever happened, they would face it together. He looked at her, with teary eyes, begging her to speak, “Do you know where he is, Nono?” he asked again.

“At the hospital,” she said with a shaky voice. “He’s unconscious, so no-one knows who he is. No-one except me.” When she saw the look of defeat on Phillip’s face she knew she had to explain. She couldn’t have him doubt her truthfulness now, not after what they had been through. Not after she might have killed Lucas, or put him in an induced coma.

She told all she knew.

Lucas was brought into the hospital two weeks ago with a gunshot wound. The police and paramedics thought it was a robbery because he had no wallet, no ID and no valuables on him. But she recognised who he was.

“I think I treated him,” she says worriedly. “On my schedule… but I hated him.”

She started shaking, at the thought that she could have killed a man. She told Phillip about the morphine and how she woke up from a blackout, at the hospital, in Lucas’s room in ICU. “But I can’t remember what happened. What if I gave him too high a dose and induced his coma? What was I even doing lying there?” she asked Phillip, frightened and confused.

When Phillip, who normally gave her a ‘silver lining’ speech, had nothing to say, Nono broke down and cried.

‘Premeditated murder’ was all Phillip’s anxious mind could make of it.

After a long while and a box of tissues, Nono calmed down.

“His eyes, his eyes told me he meant what he said,” she said, shaking.

“Whose eyes? Who said what?” Phillip asked, handing her a glass of sugar water.

“Lucas. When the paramedics brought him in he was slipping in and out of consciousness,” she said, then paused and took a gulp of the cool water. Phillip waited patiently for her to finish.

“What happened?”

“He looked straight into my eyes, recognised me, and he said… he said… oh God!”

Nono couldn’t bring herself to repeat what Lucas had said. More especially after what she had done …or may have done…it all was so confusing.

“Forgive me,” she finally whispered. “Before he fell unconscious, Lucas asked for my forgiveness.”

***

Tell us: What would you do if you were in Nono’s shoes? Does Lucas deserve her forgiveness?