Lunga told Busi about his baby straight away.

He arrived at her home and swallowed hard when he saw how lovely Busi looked. He noticed the special attention she and her mother had given to the meal they planned to serve him.

He greeted Busi’s mother respectfully and kissed Busi on the cheek. But as soon as her mother went back to the kitchen, he called Busi aside.

Lunga told Busi everything about Josie. He told her about how he had turned to her after Busi had left him, and about how he had ended it when he’d realised that he felt nothing for her, and only loved Busi. He told her how there had been no one else, and that since Josie he had waited only for her, for Busi, to finish her Matric so that they could perhaps be together.

Busi listened and said nothing. Her mother came back into the room, took one look at the two young people sitting on the couch looking very serious, and left again.

Busi began to cry softly; she could not help it. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

“You told me that you loved me, Lunga,” she said through her tears.

“I do love you, Busi,” replied Lunga earnestly, moving over to enfold her in his arms.

Busi stood up and moved away. “Then how could you …”

Lunga sighed deeply and lowered his head. After a moment he looked up at Busi again. “You didn’t want me, Busi. You didn’t answer my messages …” Lunga’s voice faded. “I was lonely and heartsore, and Josie, well, she was just there, you know. It was never love, Busi. It was just … comfort.”

Busi sniffed and rubbed the back of her hand over her cheeks to wipe away her tears. She shrugged, but still did not look at Lunga.

“Josie and I were never in love. Not at all. I know it’s hard for you to understand,” said Lunga.

“I do understand,” said Busi. “You’re just behaving like a man after all, like my mom always told me men would.”

“I am just a man, Busi,” said Lunga, standing up and moving towards Busi. “A man who knows what he wants. A man who broke it off with Josie and told her how I felt about you. A man who waited for you. A man who loves you.”

Busi did not resist Lunga as he came to her then and put his arms around her.

“But how do you know how Josie feels?” Busi asked quietly. “You are the father of her baby after all.”

“She told me to fight for you, Busi. You can ask her. She encouraged me to get back with you.”

Busi could no longer resist Lunga’s gentle touch. She felt herself melting into his arms.

“I am so sorry, Busi,” said Lunga, squeezing Busi tightly against his chest, “but I must do the right thing. You know I must. The baby is mine and I must help to look after her. I am her father. I have already told Josie that I have some money saved and that I will give it to her for the baby. It doesn’t mean that Josie and I are in love with each other. It was never that.”

Lunga paused then. Busi was looking at him through eyes swimming with tears.

“Your savings …,” she said softly.

“Yes,” said Lunga with a sigh. “I know I had plans for that money. Plans that included you. City plans and singing plans. Josie did not even want the money, but I told her it was for Whitney, the baby, and not for her. But I can save again. I can …”

Busi silenced him by kissing him gently on the lips. Her kiss lingered and as Lunga kissed her back he could taste her tears on his lips.

“I would understand if you never wanted to see me again,” said Lunga softly.

“Never see you again?” asked Busi, smiling at him through her tears. “No, that’s not what I want at all. This is all my fault. I pushed you away. It was me – I never trusted that you loved me. I pushed you right into Josie’s arms. I see that now.”

Busi’s mother came back into the room.

“You are back in my daughter’s life for one day, and already you are making her cry,” she said, frowning at Lunga.

Over the meal Lunga, with Busi’s help, told Busi’s mother about Josie, and about Whitney.

Busi’s mother shook her head.

“I am not surprised,” she said, hardly pausing as she dished up the food. ”And I suppose that you, Busi, will simply take him back, baby and all!”

“I love him, Mama,” said Busi softly, reaching out for Lunga’s hand under the table.

“Yes, yes,” said her mother, putting a plate of food down rather forcefully in front of Lunga.

“Men!” she said, shaking her head. “You are never to be trusted, but I can see that Busi really does love you. She is a foolish girl in many ways, but she is finished with school now and she must make her own choices. I am surprised that Josie’s family did not come looking for you and your family before now.”

Lunga explained that Josie did not have a traditional family and that Josie had not wanted to involve Lunga at all, until after Whitney was born. Only then had she decided that he must know about her.

Busi’s mother clicked her tongue, and shook her head, and muttered to herself as she cleared the table.

“Everything is different these days,” she said, over and over.

Lunga said goodnight. He had made a plan to visit Busi in the morning. Before he left, Busi’s mother took him aside and talked to him alone. From where Busi stood she could tell that she was giving him a thorough lecture. Lunga stood and listened, his head bowed.

When Busi asked him what she had said, he answered that it was a secret and he had promised her mother that he would not say. He said that she would find out in the morning. Then Lunga hugged her and left.

Busi kissed her mother tenderly on the cheek as she sat up in her chair in the lounge.

“Can I help you to bed, Mama?”

Her mother nodded. Busi could see that she was deep in thought.

In the morning Busi woke up to a beautiful day. Her heart skipped a beat when she remembered Lunga. Then she remembered Whitney, but still she felt peaceful.

Later she was in the crèche, singing to a baby cradled in her arms, when her mother called her. She put the sleeping child down in a cot and went out into the yard.

Under the tree, in the shade, stood Lunga. Busi smiled at him. Next to him was Josie, holding a very small baby in her arms. Josie stepped out into the sun and smiled her big, friendly smile at Busi.

“Hello, Busi,” she said. “I am so pleased to meet you. And this is Whitney.”

Busi stepped forward. Beside her Busi felt her mother reach for her hand. She squeezed it tightly. Busi stood still for a long moment, holding her mother’s hand. Josie was beautiful. That was Busi’s first thought. She glanced down at her mother. She could see the same thought written all over her mother’s face.

‘If only she wasn’t so beautiful,’ thought Busi, taking a step towards Lunga. He was looking only at Busi, and he was smiling. He moved to Busi and took her gently, but firmly, by her arm.

“Hello,” said Busi, taking Josie’s slim hand in hers. She had lovely hands, and Busi withdrew her own, suddenly aware of her slightly chubby, slightly clammy fingers.

“I have told Josie and Lunga that I will be very happy to look after Whitney in a few months’ time so that Josie can work again,” said her mother. “You foolish children need all the help you can get.”

Busi looked down at her mother. She smiled, remembering words her mother had said many times: “Keep your friends close, and your enemies even closer.”

Whitney stirred in Josie’s arms and then, very loudly for such a small baby, she began to howl. Busi reached for her and took her from Josie.

“Give her to me,” she said. “I am good at this.”

And then she began to sing, very softly, and Whitney became silent.

My heart’s been waiting

caged and longing

to be set free

will you let the latch fall

and open the door

and as you do

I will fly to meet you

The baby looked up at Busi. She looked just like Lunga, Busi could see that now. From where she stood in the doorway Busi looked across at Lunga and Josie. They were standing slightly apart, looking down at her mother in her wheelchair, talking politely.

She was struck by what a good-looking couple they made. She saw Josie smile her incredible smile, and she saw Lunga smile too.

Busi lingered in the doorway. Whitney had fallen asleep, and when she looked up from her sweet, sleeping face she saw that Lunga had moved away from Josie, and was coming towards her, his arm outstretched.

“Darling Busi,” he said, “keep singing, my songbird. Please keep singing, for me.”

***

Tell us what you think: Do you think Lunga and Busi’s relationship stands a chance? What could keep them together? What might split them apart?