When Time Fails (Silverman Saga Book 2) by Marilyn Cohen de Villiers Read Free Book Online Page A

of the first year of her little Steynspruit kitchen classroom school, Annamari was delighted with the improvement in De Wet’s school report. Arno, of course, was top of the class again. It was such a pity that he had chosen not to go to Greys in Bloemfontein but rather to Driespruitfontein Hoërskool so he could come home every weekend. But she knew he would excel anywhere. Just like his father .
     
     
     

Chapter 7
Seven months later: 1991
     
    What the...?
    Annamari’s heart was hammering so loudly it woke her up.
    No wait. It wasn’t her heart. There it was again. Thump. Thump. Thump.
    She reached over to wake Thys. He wasn’t there. He must have heard it and gone to investigate.
    Thump. Thump.
    She remembered. Thys was in Johannesburg.
    Sleep vanished. They’d returned. The terrorists had returned. And De Wet was fast asleep in his room. She swung her feet out of bed and sat up, her heart tap dancing in her chest. She had to phone the police, radio Viljoenspruit. No, they’d take too long. The terrorists had probably cut the wires anyway. She had to get out of there. The car. She’d wake De Wet and they’d sneak out the back door and...
    ‘Kleinmissie. Kleinmissie. Wake up. Quick.’
    Rosie. Rosie was the only person who still called her Kleinmissie. Why was she at the front door? She hardly ever came to the house anymore. It was too far to walk all the way from th e khay a . And in the dark too .
    Thump. Thump. ‘Kleinmissie! Please. Kleinmissie!’
    The terrorists must have been watching the farm and knew Thys was away. That was why they’d chosen tonight to come back. Rosie had come to warn her.
    She got up and tripped over the pillows on the floor where she always threw them before kissing Thys goodnight and settling down to sleep. At the bedroom door she remembered, turned back and grabbed the shotgun from next to her bed where Thys had left it because she was going to be alone. She padded silently sure-footed through the dark house, past the locked door of her childhood bedroom. Without turning on the light, she opened the front door a crack and whispered: ‘Shh, Rosie. What’s wrong? Where are they?’
    ‘Quickly. Please. Quickly.’Rosie was already hobbling down the stairs, waving her arm in the direction of th e khay a .
    ‘Rosie wait. Stay here with De Wet. I can’t leave him alone. If you hear shooting, wake him and tell him to run as fast as he can to... to the ... Just tell him to run and hide. He’ll know where to go.’ She wished Arno was home, he’d take care of De Wet. She offered a short prayer of thanks that Arno was safe in the Driespruitfontein Hoërskool hostel this weekend.
    She couldn’t tell Rosie where the hiding place was. Terrorists often tortured loyal farm workers for information, or just for fun. She prayed De Wet would remember where to go. It was more than a year since Thys had drilled the boys – and they hadn’t taken it seriously.
    ‘Ach, Pa, you’l l donne r any stupi d ter r who dares to set foot on Steynspruit,’ Arno had said .
    But Thys wasn’t here tonight. He’d decided that he wanted to go up to Johannesburg to watch some stupid schoolboy rugby tournament. It was such a sudden decision too. He had come home from school on Wednesday in a strangely pensive mood. She’d asked what was wrong but he’d just shaken his head and disappeared into the bedroom. When supper was ready she went to call him. He was paging through their old Driespruitfontein Hoërskool magazines.
    She sat next to him and pointed to the photograph of the First Rugby Team, Thys proudly holding the ball in the middle of the front row. ‘You haven’t changed a bit. Still as handsome as ever,’ she’d said.
    Thys had stared at the photograph and flipped the page – the First Cricket Team. Then the swimming team. Then the cross country team. Annamari looked away. She couldn’t bear to look at it, not with Alan Silverman there in the front row. Thys slowly turned the page and