It’s five minutes past one, according to Sthe’s watch. He remembers a cricket match that should be underway. He forgets about it as quickly as he’s remembered it. He doesn’t google the score like he’d normally do. He helps Zandi place a bucket in line with a hole in the roof of the kitchen. In the hour the rain has been bucketing down for they have disposed of the water and put it back twice.

“What happens when it rains in the middle of the night?” Sthe asks.

“Then I have to wake up and do this.”  Zandi must see a humorous side to this for she laughs. Sthe laughs too.

“That is not funny,” he says, “But still.” He continues laughing along with her. They fall into each other’s arms. He strokes her face. She doesn’t complain. She exhales, letting out a sensual sound. They kiss. Again. And again. Zandi steals a moment to look for the kids. Sbonga, Ayabonga and the baby, Sthelo, are still lying on the mattress they were sitting on, asleep. This is where the five of them sat huddled to sit out the roar of thunder and the invasive flashes of lighting. They take their kissing and panting to the bedroom.

“Sthe, stop!” Zandi shouts in a whisper. He keeps on kissing her, stroking her earlobes and cupping her breasts – all on account of her moaning to it.

“Sthe! Stop!” She raises her voice so much Sthelo, who they had moved from the bed to the sofa in the bedroom is jolted up for a few seconds. “We’ve got to stop, Sthe. Do you have a condom?”

“No,” Sthe whispers. “Do you?”

Zandi gives him a feather slap on the cheek. “No silly. What would I keep condoms around for?”

“What would I keep them on me for?” Sthe rejoinders. They retire in each other’s arms, laughing.

“You know, I had ideas about you when I first saw you. It’s because of those ideas that I never would have pictured you lying here next to me. Not in this house.”

“What ideas are those?” Sthe asks.

“I don’t know, Zandi begins. “I thought you are smart, okay. And that you wear that on your sleeve. Look, this house is the one big thing my mother left me with. I love it. But lately it falls apart so much and so rapidly that I’m apprehensive about hosting strangers here. I wasn’t comfortable having you here at first. And I know that when Bongi directed you she probably mentioned the wall that has fallen off. Everyone does that, like the wall is all there is to this house. I was nervous you would be offish, nasty, even, about being here.”

Sthe takes her into his arm and he squeezes. “I’ll be honest and say I wouldn’t be here if I had other options. I came because Bongi recommended you. But I met you, you killed me with your smile and looking at you, I saw possibilities. I liked you. I fell for Ayabonga too. I’m glad that happened because I now see this house in a different light. I think it’s homely. You, Ayabonga and Sthelo give it a warmth you won’t find in double-storey houses with aluminium windows and doors.”

“Homely, huh? And better than the double-storey houses at Edendale Gardens, you say?”

“Yes!” he answers with a burst of confidence.

“What do you say we exchange houses? I move into your double-storey house and you come here and soak up all the warmth – and bucket-loads of rain water – this house has on offer?”

“Come here you silly, smart mouth, you.” He tickles her, they kiss. And pant, yearning for each other. She nudges him away and he gets the message.

“Condom,” he says, rolling back to his side.

Tell us: Reading between the lines, what do you think each is learning about the other through the casual chat about condoms?