A month goes by and Maman Brigitte has refused to give Sylvie’s cellphone back, although Damascene has pleaded with her. “She needs to learn a lesson,” Maman Brigitte tells him.

Sylvie hears nothing from the deacon, although she has sent him her report. Whenever she can she runs to the nearby library to use the Internet. But there is no email from the deacon. She wishes now that she hadn’t told him her cellphone number. What if he has been calling all this time? But surely he would send an email as well?

It is her only hope of getting away from Maman Brigitte.

“Don’t count your chickens before they hatch.” She recalls Yonela’s warning.

In all the excited madness of the day she went to church with Yonela she had told her uncle: “I might be going to a boarding school.”

“How? Where?” Damascene had asked.

“I can’t tell you more now. I’m still waiting. You will know soon enough.”

How she wished she had held her tongue. Damascene thought it wise not to tell Maman Brigitte about this news until he knew for certain. But Sylvie wondered if she could trust him not to share the news. Maman Brigitte had ways and means of getting information. And she had Sylvie’s phone.

During the week, Sylvie feels like a lone passenger on a train. While all the other children her age go to school she is the only one who stays at home. Apart from cleaning, ironing and sometimes cooking, she looks after Dudu when Maman Brigitte is at work at the Beading Centre nearby.

On a Thursday, a month after the church service, Sylvie is at home when she hears her cellphone ringing. Maman Brigitte must have left it behind when she went to work. Sylvie scrabbles through Maman Brigitte’s drawers until she finds it. But it has stopped ringing.

She sits down on the bed. She tries to phone the number but there is no airtime. Then she scrolls through the missed calls. There are ten from this number over the last few days! She writes the number down on the palm of her hand. Then she waits for Nadia to come home.

“Please stay with Dudu,” she begs her. She borrows five rand from Nadia and runs down to the library and uses the public phone outside. She dials the number she has written down.

“Hello.” She wants to jump for joy and scream at Maman Brigitte all at the same time. It’s the deacon.

“Deacon it’s me – Sylvie – the girl who wants to go back to school.”

“Ah! Hello Sylvie. Why did you never answer your phone? And did you get my email?” he asks her.

“My stepmother took my phone away and no…no email came.”

“Well, now I can tell you in person. The principal has agreed to take you into the school on a bursary. I persuaded him that he would not regret it.”

When she puts down the phone she shouts: “Wow, wow! Thanks God!” All eyes in the street are on her but she doesn’t care.

“Come to the school as soon as possible,” the deacon had told her. “With one of your parents or guardians.”

Sylvie can’t wait to get home to tell the news. She is not even afraid of Maman Brigitte now. When her stepmother tells her to prepare food, she thinks, This is the last time I will be doing this… When Nadia gets out her books to do her homework, the pain she used to feel is gone. I will be studying as well, soon, she thinks. Her life is going to change. She is going to miss Yonela, Olwethu and Nadia, even Damascene and baby Dudu. But she is ready to take this instead of slaving at her uncle’s house. In the evening at supper Sylvie tells them.

“That’s wonderful,” her uncle says. “I’m proud of you. But I’m sad you’re going to be so far away. We’ll miss you.”

Maman Brigitte just glares at her. A whole range of bad feelings can be seen to pass across her face.

“I’m gonna be lonely here. Dudu is only a baby!” Nadia laments.

“Maman Brigitte, Sylvie needs her cellphone back. We need to be able to speak to her when she is at the school,” Damascene says, turning to his wife.

There is a frown on Maman Brigitte’s face. She goes to her room and brings the phone.

“Here, you have won,” she says. “But I wonder who’s gonna pay your school fees,” she continues, refusing to be defeated, dropping the phone on the table, bitterness in her movements.

“You’re right. Boarding schools must be expensive. I don’t think we will find the money,” Sylvie’s uncle remarks, with a worried look.

“I’m sorted. I’ve got a full bursary,” says Sylvie. “I sent them my Grade 10 report.”

She sees Maman Brigitte’s face. “You stole it from my cupboard. You had no right.”

“It is my report,” says Sylvie firmly.

“We will just have to take Dudu to a crèche,” her uncle says.

“He’s only a baby!” Maman Brigitte complains, holding Dudu tight in her arms, almost crying.

“He’s a big boy!” Damascene’s voice carries a warning for Maman Brigitte, and she stops.

On Sunday, Sylvie, Yonela and Olwethu go to Saint Maria Goretti Church together again. Yonela’s mother also goes with them. She is enjoying two days off work. On their way, Sylvie breaks her good news to them.

Olwethu and Yonela hug her at the same time, while Yonela’s mother watches them, ululating.

“I’m so happy for you. Did you get your phone back?” Yonela asks.

“My uncle ordered that I have it back. I’ll SMS you, often.”

“Are you allowed visitors?” Olwethu asks.

“Only if they aren’t called Maman Brigitte,” Sylvie laughs.

After mass they sit together in the hall, chatting over tea and biscuits.

Sylvie still cannot believe she is climbing out of the dark suffocating sack she has been living in. In a few hours now, she is going to discover a new world – a bright new world flooded with light. She cannot wait.

***

Tell us what you think: How will life be different now for Sylvie?