Themba was in bed in her room at Miriam’s house. It was still dark outside. She didn’t have to get up yet.

She could not help herself and in morbid fascination took out her phone and looked again at the pictures she had taken of the two wanted criminals. A cold shiver ran down her back.

What were they doing at Walmer Mall? Worse still – had they seen her? Were they going to find her and kill her? She held her breath at the thought.

Her head was beginning to ache again due to all the thoughts swirling around her brain. She needed to get up, and do something. Her mouth felt dry and her throat was parched. She was longing for a cup of hot, sweet tea.

Themba left her room quietly; she didn’t want to wake up Miriam. But as she was tiptoeing past Miriam’s bedroom she heard the sound of her voice.

She was just about to open the old woman’s door and see if there was anything she wanted when she heard Miriam say, “Don’t you worry about her. Don’t take me for a fool. Like mother, like daughter.”

Who was Miriam talking to, so early too, Themba wondered.

Was she talking about her daughter? They were not on speaking terms. Themba knew there had always been trouble between them but about a year ago they had had a massive row. Miriam would not tell her what the row was about.

Themba had spoken to the daughter – Daisy – a few times on the phone, merely to fill her in on her mother’s health. But Daisy had never visited Miriam in all the months Themba had been taking care of Miriam.

*****

It was later that same morning. Themba had washed and dressed Miriam. She helped her into the armchair next to the window. Miriam liked looking out onto the street below.

Themba stripped the bed and piled the washing into the basket. Her training as a nurse had not left her and she automatically began making hospital corners as she made up the bed with fresh linen.

As she tucked in one corner she felt something – something pushed between the mattress and the base of the bed. Themba pulled it out and looked at it.

It was a piece of paper with various drawings showing the interior of the old bakery from different angles. It looked like somebody had recently drawn them.

Themba turned around slowly to look at Miriam. She was sound asleep in her chair.

Themba’s brain was working overtime. What did these drawings mean?

Yet Miriam had every right to have these drawings. After all, the bakery was hers.

Themba looked at the pictures again. This time she noticed a red circle in the middle of the floor on one of the drawings.

Maybe Miriam was thinking of selling the bakery? The old buildings in Central were being bought up rapidly by developers.

Yes, that must be it, she thought as she quickly finished making up the bed. She put the drawings back exactly where she had found them.

Themba sat down opposite Miriam and opened the paper. She gasped and almost fainted on the spot. There looking out at her was gorgeous Lieutenant Lucky Bhengu.

“What is it?” Miriam asked, awake again. “What disaster has happened now? Don’t tell me our President is getting married again?”

Themba couldn’t speak. Instead she turned the paper round so Miriam could see the picture of Lucky Bhengu for herself.

“Ah – the Bhengu child. You know he’s just like his father,” Miriam said. “He has the same pearly white teeth, and that grin of his is just the same.”

Themba sat still for several moments, gazing into the dark depths of his eyes.

What would it be like to kiss him, she wondered?

“Well are you going to read the story, and tell me how you’re the man has gotten himself sprawled across the front pages of the Herald?”

Themba’s heart skipped a beat and she swallowed the lump in her throat.

“So you knew his father!” It was a statement rather than a question. Themba was putting off reading the article that accompanied the picture of Lucky.

Her heart turned to mush, just thinking about him.

Often Themba thought about that evening at the police station and the weeks that had followed it. Lucky had kept his promise to her. He had investigated Zinzi’s disappearance but had not found out anything more.

At the time he seemed more disappointed than she was.

“Port Elizabeth’s super cop does it again,” Themba chuckled. Or was it a cry. “Lieutenant Lucky Bhengu said that following a tip-off he raided a house in the early hours of the morning,” Themba read aloud. “Inside the house they found perlemoen worth at least a million rands.”

Themba knew she’d have to go see him and tell him about seeing the two gangsters from the hospital at the mall.

After settling Miriam down for a nap she set off for the Walmer Police Station.

She was dreading going there but she knew she had to see Lucky.

“Take a few deep breaths,” she told herself. “You’re doing the right thing.”

“Hello,” a female police officer greeted her.

“Hi,” Themba smiled at her. “I’m here to see Lieutenant Lucky Bhengu.” She was thrilled that her voice sounded normal.

“Ag no… I’m sorry. You just missed him.”

Themba blinked as she came back outside into the warm sunshine. She decided to go for a cooldrink at a nearby cafe. As she sat sipping her drink she thought about everything that had happened at the hospital and since.

David had made a full recovery. He was soon able to go back to work.

Themba wished the same could have happened to her. Outwardly everything was fine with her. The scars were on the inside.

And so Lucky was upset when she failed to identify the two thugs in the line-up.

“Have they got to you, threatened you, in some way?” he asked her gently. “Please Themba, talk to me.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated over and over. “I’m just not sure.”

“I can’t make you identify them,” Lucky said. She noticed that his eyes were sunken with bluish circles smudged under them. She knew he had been working round the clock, hadn’t slept.

“But if you know anything please help me, Themba. It’s in the interests of humanity that these thugs be put away. Think of the damage they cause to society. Think of the young people they harm with the drugs they distribute. They are not fit to walk our streets.”

***

Tell us what you think: Why is Miriam hiding the map under her bed?