Pepsi sat across the table from Zinhle and crunched her corn flakes with a sly smile.

“What is it?” Zinhle asked.

“Nothing,” Pepsi giggled.

“Come on, tell me.”

“So, did you have fun with Vusi last night?”

Zinhle slapped her forehead. “Is that what you’re giggling about? There is nothing going on between us. We got home and when you went to bed we had coffee and he left.”

“Oh, my God, you’re so boring, Sis. You need a life. Hashtag, just saying.”

Zinhle laughed. If only Pepsi knew the truth …

“Do you know how you got your name, Pepsi?” Zinhle asked randomly.

“Yeah,” Pepsi answered. “Granny told me that when mom was pregnant, she only craved Pepsi. So before she … you know, passed away … she named me Pepsi. Lucky she didn’t have a hankering for Diddle Daddle.”

Zinhle chuckled politely. Yes, the mother of Pepsi had been craving Diddle Daddle when she was pregnant, but could never afford it. In the township they had called it “the rich chips”. They were like pieces of gold. Not just because they looked so, draped in golden syrup, but because a packet was a treasured and coveted thing.

“Maybe I should have named you that,” Zinhle thought out loud. “You’re gold.”

You? Did you name me Pepsi?” Pepsi was astounded. It was as if her whole world had just turned upside down. “That means grandmother lied to me. Mom didn’t name me – you did. Why did she lie, then?”

If she acted so betrayed with a simple name, imagine if she knew the truth.

“No, no. Mom did name you. Before you were even born.”

“I wish I could have met her,” Pepsi said sadly.

“She was gorgeous, Pepsi,” Zinhle said, tears welling up in her eyes at the memory.

“You had to have been, like …” she counted back the years on her fingers, “… at least fourteen or fifteen?”

“Fourteen,” Zinhle corrected. “I was just fourteen when you were born. You were a handful. Still are.”

Pepsi laughed. “This is nice,” she said suddenly. “Me and you. Bonding. Why have we never done this before? I’m sure all sisters do.”

“We were living in different places. We didn’t have the time.”

“Well, now we do,” Pepsi smiled.

It was nice getting to know Pepsi better. Zinhle had kept her distance with everyone in her life, especially Pepsi. And now it was going to be even harder to say goodbye.

“I’m gonna miss you when you go back, Pepsi,” Zinhle said truthfully.

“Then don’t send me back!”

“Your ticket is already booked,” Zinhle said. “You’re leaving tomorrow. Gogo will be waiting for you at the bus pick up zone when you arrive.”

“What!” Pepsi got up angrily. “When were you going to tell me?”

Zinhle felt terrible. “I was just waiting for the right time.”

“And you think now is the right time? When we’re just starting to get along. Why are you doing this to me?” Pepsi cried. “I thought you of all people would understand me, Sis.”

“I do understand you, Pepsi.”

“No, you don’t! You’re just like everybody else. Gogo kept telling me about my glamorous sister, living in the city, fulfilling her dreams. All I see is a pathetic woman who can’t admit the truth – even to herself!”

“Don’t you dare speak to me that way,” Zinhle threatened. “Or else.”

“Or else what? You’ll leave me? Go on. You’ve already done it once. It shouldn’t be that hard to do it again. I’m alone in this world, a burden.”

“Don’t say that. That’s not what you are. I can’t explain it …”

“I know why you don’t want me around,” Pepsi said. “You don’t want me asking questions about your top secret job, right? Or is it because I remind you of our mother? How she died giving birth to me and every time you look at me, you blame me, don’t you? Don’t try to deny it. I watch movies and read books, y’know. That type of stuff is almost always the reason for resentment.”

“Do you blame yourself for your mother’s death?” Zinhle asked, realisation finally hitting her.

“Well, maybe,” Pepsi answered hesitantly. “Sometimes I wonder. If it wasn’t for me, you’d still have a mother.”

“That’s rubbish,” Zinhle burst out, unable to control her tongue. “You didn’t kill my mother. She died of a heart attack before you were even born.”

Zinhle had to bite her tongue to stop herself.

“Wh– what did you just say?” Pepsi asked, shellshocked. “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

Zinhle was silent.

“Oh, my God, Zinhle! Talk to me. Is that why you don’t want me around? Because I’m not your real sister?”

“That’s not true,” was all Zinhle could muster.

“Then what is?! For once just tell me the truth. Please,” Pepsi begged.

Zinhle kept silent.

“Forget it!” Pepsi yelled. “I’ll just go back to that backwater village and end up useless like everyone else, while you stay here, enjoying life without me!”

Pepsi stormed off to the bedroom and slammed the door.

Zinhle was heart-broken. She sat and cried and cried.

After an hour, she decided: she would pluck up all her courage and tell Pepsi whatever she wanted to know.

She knocked on the door.

“Pepsi?”

Silence met Zinhle’s call. She knocked again.

No answer. Zinhle slowly pulled down the handle and found that the door wasn’t locked.

“Pepsi?” Zinhle called again, looking around the room.

She couldn’t see Pepsi anywhere. But one thing did catch her eye: the window was open wide and the curtain was blowing furiously in the wind.

“No,” Zinhle said aloud. “She couldn’t have …”

Oh, but she had. Pepsi had climbed out of the window, down the fire escape and had run away.

***

Tell us: Are you enjoying the story so far? Do you know what the secret of the mothers might be?