Recipes for Love and Murder by Sally Andrew Read Free Book Online Page A

the water, caught in the base of the reeds, were a few feathers. Small and white.
    I felt strange and had to sit down. I managed to get to my desk chair.
    ‘Maria, you’re pale as a ghost,’ said Hattie.
    Jessie put the kettle on while Hattie fanned me with a piece of paper.
    They pulled up their chairs and sat down on either side of me. Jessie handed me a cup of coffee and I took a big sip. It was sweet and strong.
    ‘The ducks,’ I said. ‘It was the lady with the ducks.’
    ‘Oh, heavens, yes, the one who wrote to you,’ said Hattie.
    ‘The bastard,’ said Jessie. ‘He killed her.’
    ‘Oh, if only . . . ’ I said, but the list of the things I wished was too long to say.
    ‘Have some beskuit,’ Hattie said, opening my tin and offering a rusk to me.
    ‘Let me investigate,’ said Jessie, standing up. ‘Please, Hattie.’
    Hattie sighed.
    ‘Talk to the police and the hospital,’ she said. ‘But you leave that husband alone.’
    Jessie opened her mouth like she was going to speak but then closed it again. She grabbed her notebook, helmet and jacket and headed off.
    Hattie shook her head.
    ‘That girl.’
    ‘I think she’ll go far,’ I said.
    ‘Maybe too far,’ said Hattie.

CHAPTER TWELVE
    We heard the buzz of Jessie’s scooter fading away and then the rattling of a big car arriving, its brakes screeching as it stopped; a door slamming, boots stomping up the pathway.
    Hattie peeped outside. Her eyebrows shot up and she scooted backwards, her hand on the door, like she might close it.
    ‘Haai!’ a woman shouted. ‘Ek soek Tannie Maria!’
    She was looking for me. Her voice was rough but had some sweet flavour, like Christmas cake with stones in it.
    ‘I’m afraid she’s not currently available,’ said Hattie.
    ‘Where’s she? Who’re you?’
    ‘Would you like me to take a message?’
    Hattie was blocking the door but the woman pushed past her.
    ‘Blikemmer ,’ she swore. Tin bucket. ‘I must see her.’
    She was wearing a man’s overall and no make-up. Her hair was short but deurmekaar, like she’d been running her hands through it. But you could still see she was a good-looking woman in her thirties, her eyes brown with dark eyelashes.
    ‘And you?’ she said when she saw me.
    She looked like she was going to klap one of us. Who was she going to smack first? She wasn’t as tall as Hattie, but she looked strong enough to take us both on.
    I was going to tell this rude woman that I was the cleaning lady and she was messing up the floor with her dirty shoes.
    But then I saw, stuck to the mud on one of her big leather boots, a little white feather.
    ‘I am Tannie Maria,’ I said. ‘Sit. Sit. I’ll make us coffee.’
    She sat on the edge of Jessie’s chair and frowned at me, like she didn’t like the way I was putting sugar in her coffee. But I carried on anyway, and added milk too.
    Then there was a sound like someone had stood on a puppy, and I got a fright. The woman’s face crumpled and the sound was her crying. Then she was tjanking, howling like a dog that’s been left alone. I put her coffee along with the tin of rusks on the table next to her, and pulled my chair closer to hers.
    ‘Heavens above,’ said Hattie and closed the door.
    But she needn’t have worried because the woman got much quieter. Tears ran down her face; you could see the lines because her cheeks were a bit dusty. They ran right into her mouth. She was tjanking softly now, and I could make out some words:
    ‘Tienie. My Tienie,’ she said. ‘I love her.’
    The tears kept streaming down. Ag, I felt sorry for her.
    Then there was a loud knocking, and Hattie went to open the door.
    ‘Police!’ barked a man’s voice. ‘I am Detective Lieutenant Kannemeyer. We are looking for Anna Pretorius. Her bakkie is outside.’
    Hattie said nothing and for the second time someone pushed past her. The policeman was big and tall with short hair and a thick handlebar moustache. It had a nice shape, like he took