Hatchings

Chapter Seven

50 Chapter Seven “Es war aber allda Maria Magdalena, und die andere Maria, die setzen sich gegen das grab….” The crystalline voice of Peter Pears, the Evangelist, in the closing stages of Bach’s Matthäus Passion. Boland Lipp had the volume turned down, too low for his taste, but he did not want to risk another sherry bottle. He had had to close all the windows and doors in the apartment in order to shut out some of the racket that was coming from Number Three. He was lying, supine, on his comfortable old divan; his eyes were closed, not tightly, and the tears were coursing down his cheeks. He did not hear the knocking on his door until the end of the recitative when the choir sings: “Mein Jesu, mein Jesu, gute nacht.” He raised himself into a sitting position and swung his legs to the floor. Who could that be? He looked at his watch: nearly 8pm. You had to go through the kitchen to get to the outside door. The tone of Boland’s kitchen was set by marbled green tiles, green checked curtains and a green electric kettle. “Hang on, I’m coming,” he said to whoever it was standing outside on the narrow passage, which connected the three ground flats. He slid two bolts, clicked up a Yale lock, and unhooked a chain; then he opened the door. It was his little friend, Godknows Ilithanga from Number Three. Her normally shining brown face was the colour of ash. Her mouth was quivering with the effort not to cry. She looked at him imploringly. “Why, Godknows,” said Boland holding out his hand, “you look decidedly unwell. Come in, dear, come in.” She took his hand and he led her into the kitchen. “I’ll put the kettle on for some tea, shall I?” The girl then broke into uncontrollable sobs. Boland held her in his aims, saying “There, there” until the sobbing died down. Then he led her into the living room and bade her sit down. The final chorus of the Passion was coming to an end. The choirs were singing: “Wir setzen uns mit tranen nieder”. Boland could not bear to stop the music. He must let it play out. Only a few seconds more. When it was over he switched off the record player and pulled up a stool so that he could sit near his visitor. Godknows had been more or less disowned by her family because she had been expelled from her school either for going to have a baby or for having had a baby - they could never determine which. No baby ever materialised, however. In truth Godknows had been pregnant for much of her Form Two year at Prince Charming High. The baby had been born in November the year before. Nobody had suspected anything because nobody at home or at school took much notice of 51 Godknows, and because she carried very small, and because her second-hand school blazer that she wore even on the hottest days of the year was about four sizes too big for her. The ‘coloured’ baby that had been discovered in the dustbin at Prince Charming High was not hers, though hers too had been ‘coloured’. Her baby had been born at Cornwall Crescent, not in her parents’ apartment but in Number Five. Her teachers, Mr Snott and Mr Pus-Bottom, had arranged for a midwife from a Bulawayo Hospital - one of their ‘black pussies’ - to help with the delivery. The children at Prince Charming High and at many of the other schools in Bulawayo knew that the English expats would help them get rid of unwanted babies. It was part of their contribution towards the rehabilitation of a country that had been corrupted and almost destroyed by colonialism, racialism, and imperialism. They wanted no money for their assistance. The occasional screw, perhaps - yes - but for Chris’sake no money. It was Sobantu ‘The Butcher’ Ikherothi who wanted money. He had shareholders to satisfy. Simon and Nicholas were just middle men, motivated by morality not filthy lucre. It had been a relatively easy birth considering Godknows’ tender age. The midwife, who earned more than double her meagre salary doing jobs for Comrade Ikheroti, took the baby away in a plastic bag. It was a little boy apparently. After the birth, Godknows spent two days in Number Five, sleeping and taking zitz baths - for she had been quite badly torn. Her family...