As soon as he was gone, Karabo turned to me. “What was that about?”
“It looks like Lily is giving Xavier a tour of the city.”
“What? What happened to your big policy?”
“I still have a No Man Policy. This is just a tour of the city for a kind stranger. A bit of charity work.”
“An extremely hot stranger! Lawd! I thought I’d die when he walked in. But, Lil, he looks perfect for you though. You’d make a great couple.”
“Couple? Perfect? Aren’t you running away with your dreams? It’s just a tour of the city – nothing more.” And yet those were my exact thoughts. Perfect. For. Me.
“Yeah … OK, whatever. But I’ve known you forever and I know what I see in your eyes. You’re into that guy.”
I kept quiet and went to the end of the counter. I pulled out my drawings for the youth centre that I was designing for my project. I stared down at them and ran my pencil around but saw nothing really. All I kept seeing was Xavier’s smile. Then I reminded myself firmly: love at first sight is nonsense. Complete fairy-tale nonsense.
*****
I had a class until five and then headed home. I live with my older sister Mmakola, in Khayelitsha.
“I’m home!”
“In here,” Mmakola said from the kitchen.
I found her cooking. “So how’s things?”
“What happened?” she asked, looking me over suspiciously.
“What do you mean?”
“You look different. Something happened.”
“Nothing. Nothing happened.”
“Are you sick?”
“No.”
Then I remembered the tickets. I realised I might be able to work Mmakola’s typical nosiness to my advantage.
“I’m just sad. There’s a big concert this weekend and Karabo and I can’t afford the tickets. A really important concert. I thought I could manage but now I see I can’t.”
“How much?”
“They’re R200 each, so R400.”
“R400! For a concert?”
“He’s very talented. X-man – you heard of him?”
“Sure.” I knew she hadn’t. Mmakola was only twenty-nine, but she was the oldest twenty-nine-year-old in South Africa.
“But I can’t afford that. It’s not like it’s something important.”
“Yeah … well…”
I had expected as much but tried anyway, mostly to get Mmakola off my back. Did I really look different? I’d been thinking the entire day about Xavier’s call. As the day progressed I accepted he’d probably not call at all. A guy like him likely had all sorts of women in his life. What would he want with me, some girl he met at a takeaway?
And what was up with that TT person? I wondered what Xavier did for a job. I suspected from the desperate way TT behaved that he did something very important. Maybe a doctor or a surgeon. Even some specialist doctor – a heart surgeon or paediatrician for kids with cancer. Shame. And there he was wasting time chatting me up.
Just as I decided he was not going to call me, the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Is that Just Lily?”
It was him! “Is that Xavier?”
“It is indeed. How was the rest of your day?”
“It was OK. I hope you didn’t get in too much trouble with your friend TT.”
“TT needs to relax.”
“So what do you do that he needed you so desperately?”
“TT’s a problem. Listen, I cleared everything for tomorrow. What time can I get my grand tour?”
“How’s eleven sound?”
“Eleven sounds perfect.”
*****
We agreed to meet at the V&A Waterfront. Now I struggled to find something to wear. In the end, I settled for a red vintage dress, my stripy green tights, and my boots with yellow stars. I left my long dreads out for the day, simply pulling them back from my face with a beaded headband. I was ready for … not sure what – but I was ready.
“Wow,” Xavier said when he arrived.
“Too much?”
“Nope – you’re stunning, absolutely beautiful.” He took my hand and kissed it. “So Lady Lily, do what you will with me.”
I’d planned out the whole day. First a trip to a few of the art galleries. I had an architecture friend with an exhibit at the Cape Gallery that I thought Xavier might like. From there we took the cable car up Table Mountain and then we were off to the District Six Museum. We landed back at the V&A for a late lunch/early dinner and enjoyed our food with a bottle of white wine.
“This has been a fantastic day,” Xavier said, sipping his drink.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“Funny I found you in that takeaway; I wasn’t even supposed to be there. We were rehearsing and I just suddenly had to have chicken livers. I was missing home I think. My mom cooks great chicken livers.”
I had asked him three times during the day what he did for a living and he’d dodged the question. Time for number four: “Rehearsing? What is it you do actually?”
Xavier laughed. “I know you’ve been asking me that question all day. I just wanted you to get to know me a bit before a lot of other things clouded the picture.”
“What does that mean, Mr Mystery Man?”
“OK … I’m a musician.”
“Cool. Are you here for a show or something?”
“Yeah … at the Convention Centre.”
“Convention Centre? That place usually only has really big gigs.”
“It’s sort of a big concert. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of me. I don’t go by Xavier on stage. I’m called X-man.”
What? I couldn’t believe it! How on earth had I not seen that? I’ve seen X-man on TV, in photos, in magazines. Now that he said it, it was obvious Xavier was X-man. It was just on stage he wore crazy costumes and he was so out there. Xavier was reserved and calm. Even his body language was different. He didn’t act like someone who could be X-man.
It was crazy! And Karabo was going to drop dead for real when she heard.
***
Tell us: What’s your opinion of Xavier/X-man? Do you trust him?