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that Scott was already talking about a
“next time”.
“Great,” she replied, knowing there was
something she ought to mention.
L
INDIWE dropped by to see
Dudu who’d been anxious to
know how her date had gone.
“So, tell me all the details.
Did he show up?”
“He did, and he’s gorgeous.”
“So, you’re seeing him again?”
Lindiwe looked at her friend. She’d
expected Dudu to be almost as dizzy
with happiness as she was.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Dudu replied, although
clearly something was troubling her.
“Just take it slow. You don’t really know
h i m .”
“You’re just jealous,” Lindiwe told her
best friend. “That’s what’s wrong!”
“Me? Jealous?” Dudu laughed, but then
her face changed and suddenly she
looked deadly serious. “Just go easy, be
careful. You could be playing with fire.”
Lindiwe had had enough of Dudu
pouring cold water on the fire that was
burning inside her. She couldn’t wait to
see Scott again.
Two days later, they met – this
time at a posh restaurant.
If anything, Lindiwe was more
nervous than before. She desper-
ately wanted it to all work out,
but there were hurdles to over-
come before she could relax.
Scott was waiting for her. He looked
gorgeous and gave her a wide grin show-
ing off his perfect white teeth.
The waiters were very busy. Two large
parties had just arrived. Lindiwe and
Scott were given a cocktail and asked to
wait in the bar area until their table was
ready. This suited Lindiwe perfectly.
“You look wonderful,” Scott said as he
helped her slip off her jacket. He was
such a gentleman.
“I need to tell you something,” Lindiwe
began, taking a large gulp of her Piña Co-
lada. “I probably should have told you
this last time, and I won’t blame you if
you walk out, but there’s something you
need to know – I killed my husband.”
Scott, understandably, nearly choked
on his dry martini, but to his credit he
composed himself quickly and smiled
reassuringly. “Who hasn’t got a past?” he
shrugged.
Lindiwe wondered for a moment if he’d
misheard but decided to leave it at that.
A
WAITER appeared and
showed them to their table.
They ordered their meal and
chatted about a TV show,
the restaurant and the food.
Before long the starters
arrived but Scott had still made no refer-
ence to Lindiwe’s bombshell.
During the course of the meal she
learnt a little more about Scott.
“It’s all very sad,” he told her. “I’d mar-
ried the love of my life. She was older
than me and already had her own place.
She was desperate for a large family and
soon she was expecting our first child.
Tragically she and our unborn baby were
killed in a car accident.”
Lindiwe reached out and gave his hand
a little squeeze.
“Since then I’ve hardly looked at an-
other woman. All I’ve done is work. But
if I’m honest with you, I do get lonely.”
Lindiwe dabbed her eyes at his tale,
hoping her mascara truly was water-
proof. He made her feel like she needed
to protect him against anything sad hap-
pening ever again.
The moment was broken when a large
family arrived and noisily settled downat the table next to Lindiwe and Scott.
A little girl of about three was placed at
the end of the table. She was staring at
Scott with big round eyes. Within mo-
ments he was playing peekaboo with her,
making her giggle.
“Another box ticked,” Lindiwe thought,
as she realised he’d make a wonderful,
hands-on father. “You’re a natural with
kids,” she said aloud.
Scott smiled and Lindiwe could feel
the last of the tense muscles in her neck
unwind.
Over a bottle of wine she found herself
chatting without learning much more
about Scott. She’d not dwelt on Bongani’s
illness or her giving the hospital permis-
sion to switch off his life support system,
which was what he’d stated in his will.
As they sipped their coffee Lindiwe
knew she didn’t want the evening to end.
Scott insisted on paying the bill and
suggested they walk. The lights along the
beach were like fireflies, twinklingmagicallyinthemoonlight. “I don’t want
tonight to end,” Scott whispered as he
took her hand and gently kissed it. He
pulled her into his arms. “Come back to
my place,” he said.
Long gone were her cautious thoughts
about taking it slowly. Scott, as far as she
was concerned, was the man she’d been
looking for.H
IS flat was neat and tidy, she
noticed. Once in the sitting
room, his kisses became
more amorous as his hands
started to explore her body.
She leaned back on the sofa
as he kissed her throat.
“Thank you,” she said. “You’ve been so
understanding about my late husband.
Not asking any questions.”
Scott caressed her neck with his lips
and smiled. “Don’t worry. I told you we
all come with a past. I’ve killed people
t o o .”
Lindiwe froze as she realised she was
in the arms of a murderer. She had to
think fast. She looked closely at Scott’s
face and saw that a plastic surgeon had
done a good job on him. And then she
realised why he’d looked vaguely
familiar. He was the serial killer
the police had been hunting for
years. He’d changed his facial fea-
tures to avoid being detected.
Lindiwe giggled nervously.
“Can we play a sexy game?” she
suggested.
“I’d love that” Scott said.
“Close your eyes.”
Scott grinned, lay back and offered
himself to this unexpected pleasure. A
few moments later Lindiwe had his
hands and feet in handcuffs and her gun
at the ready. “You are under arrest,” she
announced, as her surprised captive
reopened his eyes.
Dudu would never let her live this date
down, she thought as she called for back-
up. But it’s not every day you get a con-
fession from a serial killer.‘I won’t blame you if you walk out,
but there’s something you
need to know’
FICTION
BY SARAH SWATRIDGE
ILLUSTRATION: MICHAEL DE LUCCHI