Some weeks passed and Karabo’s life was nearly back to normal. DT called her a few times, checking on her, but he didn’t talk any more about them getting back together. He didn’t ask to see her. She wasn’t sure what his new strategy was, though she expected it would come out soon enough. Finally she asked him if he was the one calling her in at night and breathing into the phone.

“No! Why would I do that?” Then his voice became concerned. “Karabo, I think you should tell the police. I’m sure they can trace even an anonymous number. The technology is pretty advanced nowadays. Who knows what the person is up to?”

“No, it’s nothing. It’s mostly stopped anyway.” She said that, but knew it had only stopped because she’d taken to leaving her cellphone switched off at night. If she ever left it on, the phone calls immediately started again. The fear she initially felt had changed to anger. She now had a whistle by her bed and blew it into the phone and then hung up. If nothing else, it made her feel better, it made her feel in control. Poppy thought she should change her phone number, but Karabo was not going to be bullied by some idiot.

Later that day, Mompati caught her just as she was leaving. “Hey Karabo, I was wondering if you’d like to go out for drinks after work. You, me and Marea.”

She really enjoyed working with Mompati. He was a brilliant attorney. He took interesting cases and let Karabo get involved, often explaining strategy, ploughing through law books to show her a specific case that had set a precedent they could work with. He was like a second classroom for her. He was a good guy.

“I don’t know. I’m sort of busy.”

“But you don’t have class tonight. Come on.”

“Yeah … but I really should stay home and study,” she said.

“‘All work and no play …’ and all that. We won’t stay out long. You look like you could use a break.” He put his hands together as if begging.

“OK! OK! None of that. Next you’ll be on your knees and I’ll lose respect for you.” Then Karabo remembered she had left Butch in the house. “I’ll meet you guys there. I just need to run by my house to let my dog out.”

“OK,” Mompati said smiling. “I’m glad you’re coming with us.”

Karabo pulled up in front of her house and rushed to let Butch into the garden. She decided to leave him outside in the fenced backyard, since he wasn’t keen to go back in and she didn’t have time for a fight; he’d be fine. She’d only be gone for a few hours at most. When she rushed back to her car, her neighbour Jono was waiting there.

“I hope you’re not leaving that dog of yours out all night. I don’t want to call the police again about his barking.”

“No, Jono,” Karabo said. “I’ll be back just now.”

She got into the car and drove off, angry. Though Jono was only a few years older than her, he was stuck in the old racist thinking that places like Claremont were not suitable spots for blacks to live. She didn’t care what he thought. He could harass her with his petty complaints; she would not be moving any time soon.

She got to the pub at the mall near the office and saw Mompati and Marea sitting in a back booth, near the small dance floor. She had forgotten that tonight the pub had a singer performing to backing tracks. A few people were dancing already.

“Hi,” Karabo said, coming up to the table. She set her handbag on the seat. “Let me rush to the loo. Order me a dry white wine please.”

“I’ll come with,” Marea said, popping up and following her.

In the toilets Marea said, “I think this guy’s into you, Karabo. He keeps asking questions about you.”

“Like what?” Karabo said, from the cubicle.

“Just things. You know he is really cute. Maybe he can be your getting-over guy.”

“Getting-over guy?” Karabo washed her hands while looking at Marea.

“Yeah, for getting over DT.”

Karabo laughed. “Maybe … we’ll see.”

***

Tell us: Is Mompati a more suitable man for Karabo?