Tandia by Bryce Courtenay Read Free Book Online Page A

and removed from the lock before moving to the doorway. Two hunks of white bread and a tin mug of cold black tea rested on the plate. The bread was stale but not too bad when she washed it down with the bitter-tasting tea.
    Having eaten for the first time since noon the previous day Tandia felt stronger. She looked up through the small window to find that the day moon had disappeared and the sky seemed a lighter blue. It was past noon, she thought. The bread and tea must have been lunch.
    But Tandia was wrong. She had slept most of the day and it was now five in the evening. She was not to know that the meal she had just eaten was all she was entitled to receive over a twenty-four hour period. A district police station is not equipped with cooking facilities and besides, any policeman will tell you, a hungry kaffir is a more cooperative one.
    The sleep had stiffened her and she became aware of just how badly she hurt. The pain seemed to have seeped into her bones and into her spirit and she felt utterly miserable. Now, having eaten, her bowels needed to work and she was forced to use the foul-smelling bucket in the corner. She used up the small square of newspaper, praying that she would not need to go again.
    Hitching. up her bloomers, she felt the small knotted square of cloth pinned inside them, which contained her money - the five one-pound notes which made up her lifetime savings. Tandia felt a sudden surge of hope,' she would offer to pay for the gym frock, to compensate Mrs Patel. Then maybe they would just give her a beating and not send her to gaol. After what she had been through she could take the sjambok. In the end it would be a small price to pay for her freedom and she knew that rather than go to gaol, she would take any punishment, no matter how severe.
    Hope is a flame that kindles new expectations by grasping at passing straws. The food and the sleep allowed Tandia to hope just a little. She had a chance if she could stay out of prison.
    The blue framed square of light above her head began to darken and the cell was in almost total darkness before the lone ceiling light came on. The weak bulb made the cell no brighter than it had been during the day, but the absence of the comforting square of sky at the window madE' Tandia's new-found optimism soon collapse. Her bruised little body was hurting all over and no matter how she sat or lay she was in pain.
    There was a sudden rattle at the door followed by the sound of a woman swearing in a mixture of Zulu and English. Then followed a sharp expletive from a male voice. The cell door swung open and a black woman was pushed in and the door closed behind her. The woman appeared not to have seen Tandia, imagining herself alone in the cell. She leaned with her back against the heavy door, swaying slightly, obviously drunk, her chin resting on her large breast. She wore a half-smile and her nose was bleeding slightly. She sniffed and then wiped her nose by running the top of her index finger past both nostrils, across the back of her hand and back again pulling the blood and mucus back into her nose. Then she examined the blood on her hand, brought her hand to her mouth and slowly, like a cat licking its fur, she licked the blood clean, starting at the tip of her index finger and working back across her hand.
    The woman was perhaps in her mid twenties, broad hipped and with a bottom that protruded enormously in the short, tight knitted skirt she wore. Tandia, who had grown accustomed to the dim light, could see her quite clearly. She had a broad, almost flat face and she wore bright red lipstick which gave her thick lips an added fleshiness so they looked like raw meat. The trickle of blood had reappeared at both nostrils and added to her carnivorous appearance. To Tandia, she looked as though she was getting ready to eat somebody.
    The woman, bringing both her hands up to her mouth, suddenly retched. Half-stooped, she lurched over to the bucket in the corner and threw