‘I’ll be back soon,’ Twa said, taking the tobacco Willem Kloot had given him, and heading for the door.
‘Where are you going? I need you.’
‘Now, now,’ he said and left the barn before Roeloff could stop him.
Meisie whinnied and Roeloff patted her flank.
‘My father says they always give birth after dark.’
Roeloff looked at her: the long hair left loose hung down to her waist; the blue eyes innocent, yet with a hint of daring. Why had she come? Alone in her presence, he was forced to be attentive.
‘It’s the safest time. In the veld there’s the danger of predators, so they wait for the quiet of night. It’s instinctive.’
‘She seems nervous.’
‘It’s her first foal. She doesn’t know what to expect.’
‘Have you thought of a name?’
‘Neizaap.’
‘Sounds Hottentot. My father says your horses all have Hottentot names. Oegaap. Neizaap. Isn’t one called Kakaumaap?’
‘Your father says too many things. We treat our Hottentot-name animals better than he treats people.’
Soela reddened. She had never heard anyone speak about her father like that.
Meisie kicked over a bucket.
‘It’s getting close,’ he returned his attention to the mare. ‘Maybe you should go back to the house.’
‘No.’
The mare swung her head wildly from side to side and he concentrated on calming her down, walking her around the stall. A short while later the water broke with a gush, and a small hoof encased in a bluish sac appeared. Roeloff was conscious of Soela in the barn, the silence between them. He watched the hoof slide back into the swollen flesh. As the hoof continued to appear and disappear with every contraction, he became slowly aware of his own body. He was angry with Twa. If Twa had been there, it would have eased the tension. A mare giving birth was ordinary. Alone with Soela, it aroused other feelings. Why was she in the barn? Where was Twa? Smoking with the Koi-na? Sitting at a fire? He didn’t dare look down at himself for fear that Soela would see his condition.
Meisie looked for a spot to lie down and collapsed onto the straw with a groan. Moments later the hoof appeared again, followed by a second hoof, the snout, and—slowly—the entire head. Meisie gave a final push, and a shiny chestnut foal slid out onto the straw; sniffing, twitching, blinking its eyes to adjust to the yellow light.
Roeloff clamped the umbilical cord, carefully drying the filly.
Meisie raised herself up from the straw.
‘Come, Neizaap, you, too. Up!’
Neizaap began determined efforts to stand, and a few tries later, on wobbly feet, she was exploring her mother’s body to find food.
He wiped his hands on the rag and got up.
‘Why did you come out to the barn, Soela?’
Soela fidgeted with a button on her dress.
‘To watch.’
He advanced towards her.
‘No, Soela. You came for me.’ His face only inches away from hers, he slipped his hand down the front of her bodice and touched her flesh, feeling her breast in his hand.
Soela gasped.
‘Is this what you want?’ He stroked the nipple, feeling it harden under his touch. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but he couldn’t help it. Through the thin dress, he could feel her heart racing. He ripped off two of the buttons and put his face between her breasts. It was warm there, with a fragrance of soap, and another much stronger smell. Then, as suddenly as he had touched her, he pushed her away.
‘Go now. It’s better for you.’
Soela looked at him in shock.
Roeloff turned back to his work. ‘Go, I said.’
Soela wanted to say something, but she couldn’t get the words out.
A noise at the door made them turn.
‘Soela! What the …’
Soela rushed past him into the dark.
‘What’s Soela doing in here? What did you do to her, Roff?’
‘Only what she wanted me to.’
