CHAPTER THREE
At home, she sat hugging a cushion, feeling as if a weight had fallen off her shoulders. She returned to work the next day. In the evening, the house felt empty without Paula. Sylvie missed her very much over the next few days. She took to sleeping in her bed, and wearing one of her T-shirts in an attempt to feel close to her.
She was asleep one night, when she heard a noise in the house. Her heart pounded with fear. She sat up. The sounds that she was hearing were footsteps. A door opened and closed, then the footsteps became louder. The intruder was coming towards her.
Sylvie sat frozen, listening. The bedroom door opened. She put a hand on her mouth, her eyes wide with fear. The light came on, and she felt weak with relief.
“Paula? What are you doing here?” she asked.
“What are you doing here?” asked Paula. Sylvie looked round the room.
“Sorry, I'll go,” she said, making to get off the bed.
“I looked for you in your room, and you weren't there. Why are you here?”
“I was out of line, I'm sorry.”
“Why are you here, Sylvie?”
“I missed you, I wanted to be close to you.” They watched each other.
“I'll go,” said Sylvie.
“Stay. I don't want to be alone.”
“Are you alright?”
“No.”
“How can I help?”
“Hold me,” said Paula, as she stripped. She put on a sleep shirt and climbed into bed beside Sylvie. Sylvie put her arms round her. They found comfortable positions, and settled.
In a short while, Paula was asleep. Sylvie moved closer to her, smelling her hair. It smelled good, just like Paula. Sylvie told herself to behave. She forced herself to think about work.
Her alarm clock woke her. She switched it off, and groaned. She opened her eyes. Paula was lying beside her, fast asleep. Sylvie studied her closely. Her hair was all over the place. Her mouth was slightly open. She is so beautiful, thought Sylvie. She climbed out of bed, and went to freshen up.
When she was ready for work, she stood looking down at Paula. Unable to stop herself, she caressed Paula's hair. Paula did not waken. Sylvie stroked her hair over and over again, loving the feel of it. She caressed Paula's cheek lightly, then she gasped. Paula's eyes were open, watching her.
“It's time to go to work,” she said. Paula did not respond, she just watched her. Sylvie realised that her hand was still on Paula's cheek. She withdrew it.
“Should I make you breakfast?” she asked.
“No, I'm off today and tomorrow,” said Paula.
“Oh, okay. Have a good day.”
“You too. Take the car.”
“Thanks, bye,” said Sylvie.
She smiled as she drove to work, admitting that she had enjoyed touching Paula. She had even been excited. She had touched Thuba, but there had never been excitement. Her smile faded. She would have to leave. She was thinking of taking advantage of someone who had been good to her. She had no right to expect Paula to return her feelings.
She wondered about Donna and Paula. Had it been easy for Donna to part from Paula? She would not find it easy to leave Paula, but it had to be done, the sooner the better.
After work, she went to see several places that were being rented out.
“Where have you been?” demanded Paula, when Sylvie returned home. Sylvie gasped, she had never seen Paula that mad.
“I'm talking to you!” shouted Paula.
“I went to see some flats.”
“Why?” asked Paula, clearly surprised by that response.
“So I can move out.”
“No!”
“But...”
“You're not moving out. Don't you like staying here?”
“Yes, but...”
“But what?”
“I don't pay rent, I feel like I'm taking advantage of you.”
“Then pay rent, but don't leave.”
“Paula...”
“Don't you want to be here?”
“I do.”
“Then there's no problem. Dinner will be ready in half an hour. Do you want to freshen up?”
In the shower, Sylvie admitted that she would not last a week without touching Paula. She would make a fool of herself, and embarrass them both. She would have to leave.
“What's the matter? You used to be happy here, but now...” said Paula. It was a week later, and they were dining.
“I can't do this anymore. I need to move out,” said Sylvie.
“Why? Don't you like it here?”
“I love it here.”
“Then why talk of leaving?”
“Because I'll do something stupid, and spoil everything.”
“I don't understand.”
“You’re the best friend I've ever had, but I'm likely to spoil that by coming onto you, and making you uncomfortable, and then you'll never want to see me again. I don't want to lose your friendship.”
“You want to make a pass at me, Sylvie?”
“I want to sleep with my arms round you. I want to taste your kisses, and I want to love you till you scream with pleasure...I can't believe I just said that! I need to leave,” said Sylvie, clearing the table to hide her embarrassment.
“Why?” asked Paula. Sylvie looked at her in disbelief.
“Because I've offended you!” she said.
“No, you haven't.”
“You're not mad at me, or offended?”
“No.”
“You should be.”
“Why?”
“Because it was indecent of me to say those things. I can't imagine what came over me.”
“It's not indecent to me.”
“But...”
“Sit down. Sylvie, sit down.” Reluctantly, Sylvie sat down, watching Paula.
“Why do you think I helped you with the divorce?” asked Paula.
“Because you're my friend.”
“Because I want you married to me.” Sylvie's heart pounded in shock.
“What?” she whispered.
“We wouldn't have a valid marriage if you were married to someone else.”
“I don't understand.”
“I'm in love with you, I want us to be together.”
“Oh!”
“When you're ready, we'll work on our relationship. I haven't said anything before because I didn't think you were ready. I'm not going to be a rebound woman that you get rid of. I want to be with you for the rest of my life.” Sylvie gaped at Paula in disbelief.
“I won't rush you into anything. We'll take our time, so that you're as sure about being with me, as I am about being with you,” said Paula. Sylvie shook her head.
“Don't be afraid,” said Paula.
“I am afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Getting what I want, and messing it up.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I've always fantasized about being in a relationship with a wonderful woman. I always thought it was impossible, and now, here you are, and I'm gauche and inexperienced. It can only lead to disaster.”
“We'll work on it, don't worry.”
“Our families...”
“We can't live for other people. We have to live for ourselves.”
“What happens now?”
“That depends on you. If it were up to me, we'd register to get married,” said Paula.
“Paula!”
“I started falling in love with you when you moved in with Pinky. If you remember, we were working together a lot, then.”
“Yes.”
“We can carry on as friends, until you're ready for a relationship, unless you're ready now.”
“I want to kiss you. Does that make me ready?” Paula smiled.
“Let's see how it goes,” she said.
“Can I kiss you?”
“Anytime.” Sylvie went to sit beside Paula. She examined her face closely, then she caressed her cheek, chin, and lips. She moved her head closer to Paul
a's, and kissed her gently. They shared several short, gentle kisses. They watched each other, and kissed each other again. The kiss was longer. They panted when it ended, watching each other.
“How do you do that?” asked Sylvie.
“Do what?”
“Turn me on so quickly? Just caressing your cheek excites me senseless.”
“You're highly sexed, that's good. However, I'm not going to make love with you until we're married.”
“Paula! I'll never marry you. Women don't marry each other, no one allows that.”
“It's legal in this country.”
“Oh, come on!”
“Look it up under home affairs. Are you a virgin?”
“What?”
“Are you a virgin?”
“Yes.”
“When we finally make love, I'll make it very good for you. Will you marry me?”
Sylvie gasped in shock.
“I'll give you time to think about it. I love you,” said Paula.
“How can you say that?”
“It's true.”
“You should keep it to yourself.”
“Our relationship is nothing to be ashamed of. You're tired, get some sleep.” Sylvie gave Paula a last look, and went to her bedroom, in a daze.
Next morning, she sat watching Paula, as she ate.
“What's wrong?” asked Paula.
“I want to kiss you,” said Sylvie, with a pounding heart.
“Why don't you?” Sylvie sat beside Paula, looking deep into her eyes. She expected to see laughter or disgust in them, she saw curiosity. She kissed Paula gently, over and over again. Paula kissed her back. Sylvie deepened the kiss. Paula withdrew from the embrace.
“What's wrong?” panted Sylvie.
“We have to get to work,” said Paula.
Sylvie sat staring at Paula all the way to work. Paula parked her car where Sylvie worked.
“You should go,” she said.
“I want a kiss,” said Sylvie.
“Later.”
Sylvie was impatient for the work day to end. Paula phoned her, to say that she was working late, and would not be fetching Sylvie from work. Sylvie was disappointed. She went home, and waited and waited for Paula.
She woke up when she heard a car drive up. She had been lying on a couch in the lounge. She looked at the time. It was five o'clock in the morning. She stood. Paula entered the house.
“Where have you been?” demanded Sylvie.
“At Joan's.”
“You should have let me know.”
“I told you not to wait up.”
“I phoned you several times, and you didn't answer your phone, I thought something terrible had happened to you.” Paula put down her handbag.
“I couldn't sleep here last night,” she said.
“You live here! Where else would you sleep?”
“I've never been as excited by a kiss as I was by yours.”
“That's good,” smiled Sylvie.
“No, it isn't! I don't know if, or when, you'll marry me, and I told you, I won't make love to you till we're married.”
“Everyone has premarital sex.”
“Not us.” Sylvie watched Paula curiously.
“Were you and Donna married?” she asked.
“No. Same sex marriages were not legal then.”
“Did you sleep with her?”
“That was different.”
“How?” Paula looked away from Sylvie.
“How was it different?” asked Sylvie.
“I didn't love her as much as I love you. I didn't live with her for months, fantasizing about her, while she was married to someone else, and therefore off limits. I knew that if she and I separated, I'd be alright. If you and I separate, I'll fall apart.”
“Paula...”
“I think you should leave.”
“What?” gasped Sylvie.
“Find another place to stay, until we're married.”
“Paula!”
“I can't live with you and not touch you.”
“Then touch me.”
“You need to go.”
“I have no place to go!”
“Then I'll go.”
“There's no need for that.”
“I'm going.”
“I don't want you to.”
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes!” They shared a long look.
“I'm off to Joan's,” said Paula.
“I said I'll marry you!”
“I'll come back the day we get married.”
“But...”
“I'll call you, we'll register to get married, and after we marry, I'll come back,” said Paula, then she left the lounge. Sylvie followed her, and found her throwing clothes into a suitcase.
“I'll go,” said Sylvie.
“Where? You said you have no place to go. Stay here, you'll be safe,” said Paula. She closed her bag, and left. Sylvie followed her to the car, where she threw her bag into the boot, climbed into the car, and left.
Two days later they met at home affairs, and registered to marry. Paula hardly looked at Sylvie. Sylvie noticed the home affairs official looking between them, as if he was wondering why they were bothering to register, when they were not even talking to each other.
Sylvie missed Paula. She slept in her bed, and spent hours, going over their times together. One night, she decided to move her clothes into Paula's room. They would be sharing it after they married, it made sense to Sylvie to put her clothes in there. She rearranged the room, and made room for her clothes in the drawers and cupboard.
She decided to buy doilies, and other pretty, feminising things, for their home. She had less time to miss Paula, as she was busy with the house. She wanted Paula to be surprised, and pleased, when she returned.
She bought herself a dress to get married in, then she hired caterers to make her and Paula a wedding day lunch.
On the day of the wedding, the caterer delivered the food to Sylvie. Sylvie dressed, then she took a cab to home affairs.
The marriage ceremony was brief. Paula had brought Joan as a witness, Sylvie had asked a colleague of hers, Ntokozo, to be her witness. After the ceremony, Paula thanked the witnesses, and gave them each an envelope. They were surprised. Sylvie invited them to lunch. They looked at Paula, more surprised. Paula shrugged. Sylvie joined Ntokozo in her car, and they went home.
Everyone enjoyed lunch, then Ntokozo and Joan left. Sylvie cleared the table, while Paula went to freshen up.
“Hi,” said Paula. Sylvie turned from the sink, to look at her.
“Hi,” she said, looking Paula over. She was in a short skirt that showed off her great legs.
“You look nice,” said Sylvie. Paula smiled, and approached her. She put her hands on her cheeks, then she kissed her. Sylvie returned her kiss, then she broke it, gasping, as she felt Paula's hand on her bare breast. She had not been aware of her unbuttoning her blouse, and releasing her bra clasp to touch her breast. She looked at Paula, Paula's eyes were on her breast.
Sylvie gasped again, feeling things that she had never felt in her entire life. She clung to Paula as her knees had buckled. She gave a louder gasp, as Paula's hand slid down her belly, towards her panties. She held onto Paula's hand, and Paula stopped lowering her hand.
Sylvie stepped back, and started covering her body.
“What is it?” asked Paula.
“I...I have to finish clearing up.”
“I want to touch you,” said Paula. Sylvie turned away from her, feeling shy and embarrassed to be feeling that way. She gasped, feeling Paula's hands on her waist, and her front down her back.
“Are you nervous?” asked Paula, her head on Sylvie's shoulder. Sylvie nodded.
“I forgot that you've never done this before,” said Paula. She took a deep breath.
“I can wait,” she said.
“Sorry,” said Sylvie.
“Don't be. That meal was great. Thank you for thinking of it. I like what you
've done with the house.”
“Really?” said Sylvie. She turned to look at Paula.
“Really, you have great taste, and you've made this a home.” Sylvie smiled with pleasure.
“You have a beautiful body,” said Paula. Sylvie looked down, shy and pleased.
“I can't wait to get my hands on you. Let's go visit my parents.”
“What?”
“I want to tell them we're married.”
“Paula!” gasped Sylvie. She was shocked that Paula would even think of doing such a thing.
“Come, if we don't go, I'll be all over you.” Sylvie felt her heart pound with excitement.
“Are you ready for me to...?” asked Paula. Sylvie shook her head.
“Get your handbag, let's go,” said Paula.
“Will your parents be okay with our union?” asked Sylvie.
“We'll find out when we tell them.”
“I don't want them to kill either of us.”
“They won't. Relax, it will be fine.”
They drove off in silence.
“How are you?” asked Paula.
“I'm fine, I missed you. You lost weight.”
“I missed you, too.
“I'm glad we're together.”
“I'm glad you feel that way, because I'm not going to divorce you.”
“You might need to.”
“I don't do divorce. Whatever problems we face, my darling, we are going to solve them, and stay married.”
“Why do you look so scared?” asked Mom, Paula's mother.
“She's afraid you'll stone her,” said Paula.
“Why? We're not racists.”
“She knows that.”
“Then what's the problem?”
“We got married.”
“What?” gasped Mom. Dad choked on his tea.
“Sylvie and I got married,” said Paula. Her parents stared from her, to Sylvie. Mom looked back at Paula.
“Well, congratulations,” she said.
“Thanks, Mom,” said Paula. Mom stood, and spread her arms. Paula stood, and hugged her. Sylvie was surprised when Mom invited her into a hug. She stood, and hugged her. Dad hugged them too, as he congratulated them. Everyone sat down. Sylvie was shocked that there were no words of recrimination from either of Paula's parents.
“Well, Sylvia? How much lobola are you going to pay me?” asked Dad.
“Excuse me?” said Sylvie, thoroughly shocked by his words.
“In your culture, when someone marries your daughter, you charge lobola, don't you?”
“Yes.”
“I want two head of cattle.”
“Dad! You're going to make her leave me,” gasped Paula.
“If she's serious about you, she won't leave. I'll only recognise this marriage after I receive lobola.”
“Daddy!”
“After we receive lobola, we'll give you a wedding reception.” Sylvie sat gaping at him.
“Daddy! Now you've really frightened her,” said Paula, putting an arm round Sylvie's shoulders.
“Are you alright?” she asked. Sylvie nodded.
“Yes,” she said, looking at Paula.
“Don't worry about what Dad said. He was joking.”
“No, I wasn't,” said Dad.
“Stop it, Dad,” said Paula. Sylvie looked at Dad.
“I'll pay,” she said.
“Sylvie!” gasped Paula.
“I'll need at least three months, then I'll pay,” said Sylvie.
“No!” said Paula. Sylvie looked at her.
“It's a father's right to ask for amalobolo,” she said.
“From a man!”
“You didn't marry a man, my girl, so I'm charging the woman you married,” said Dad.
“We're not black, it doesn't apply.”
“Sylvie's black.”
“Dad! It's human trafficking.”
“Only if your daughter will be abused. I don't believe Sylvie will abuse you.”
“I will never abuse you, Paula,” said Sylvie.
“There you are. Sylvie, should I be discussing this directly with you?” asked Dad.
“No, but no one will agree to be a woman's negotiator, we have to talk directly.”
“What do I call you?”
“Sylvie.”
“Traditionally, I wouldn't call you that.”
“This is not a traditional set up.”
“Then forget the lobola,” said Paula.
“No,” said Sylvie and Dad. Sylvie took Paula's hand in hers, kissed it, and looked deep into her eyes.
“Don't worry, everything will be fine,” she said.
“I don't think...” said Paula.
“It's okay. This is between me and Dad.”
“But...”
“He's being very reasonable. He could have demanded thirty head of cattle, and fined me another ten for marrying you without his blessing.”
“What?”
“So let's be thankful he's asking for two.”
“I don't want you to pay it.”
“Do you want your parents to accept our marriage?”
“Of course.”
“Then I have to do this. I want to.”
“You do?”
“Sure.”
“I’m not property.”
“Of course you're not property.” They shared a long look, then Paula nodded. She yawned. Sylvie thanked her in-laws for their hospitality, then she took Paula home.
Paula went to sleep immediately. Sylvie sat watching her. After a while, she joined her on the bed.
She took a long time to sleep, marvelling that she was married to a person whose touch did not repel her. She was going to pay amalobolo. She had never seen herself paying them, but she was looking forward to it.
The following day at work, she spent her lunch time calculating how many lunch and overtime sessions she would need to work, in order to pay off amalobolo on time.
When the following week ended, Paula glared at Sylvie.
“What's the matter?” yawned Sylvie.
“I don't like you working overtime.”
“I can't pay amalobolo if I don't work long hours.”
“Put a stop to it.”
“But...”
“Stop buying grocery. I'll take care of everything until you've paid off the lobola, but no more overtime.”
“Thanks, I'm exhausted,” said Sylvie.
“That's why I don't like it.”
Sylvie was promoted at work, and she loved the challenges. She was able to pay amalobolo off in two months. She gave Dad the cash equivalent of five head of cattle.
“I only wanted two head of cattle,” he said.
“Paula's worth a whole lot more than that.”
“I'm glad you realise that. We'll let you know when we'll hold the reception for you.”
“You don't have to.”
“We want to. We held receptions for all of Paula's siblings, we'll hold one for Paula too. Invite your parents when the time comes.” Sylvie laughed incredulously.
“What's so funny?” asked Dad.
“My parents are the staunchest Christians alive, there is no way they’ll come to our reception, or recognise our union.”