‘We’d have to go to Stellenbosch; I’ve heard they have wood there. I’ve a suggestion also for the barn. Instead of having the hay take up half the floor space, why not have a grain loft above it?’
They discussed the pros and cons for some time, then there was nothing more to be said and they sat for a few minutes in silence, listening to the wind rattling the door.
‘Now, there was something you wanted to talk to me about?’ Wynand asked.
‘Yes.’
Neeltje sensed that this was of a personal nature and excused herself.
‘It’s about our employment on your farm.’ Roeloff had his hat on his knee and he fidgeted absentmindedly with the brim as he spoke. ‘I said we would stay for half a year, but I’ve worked out what we have. It’s not enough to buy what we need to take us over these mountains. If we could come to some new arrangement, and if you needed us, we could stay for another half-year.’
‘I was hoping you’d change your mind, Roff. We’d like you to stay. This is what I can do. I’ll pay the same as before, but I’ll give you a start with twelve sheep …’
‘Twelve sheep?’
‘And a piece of land to build up a flock of your own.’
It was more than Roeloff had expected. He picked up his mug, found it empty, put it down again.
‘That is very generous of you.’
‘There’s a condition: you’d have to spend two years here. It’s a fair trade. As a bijwoner you would be in charge, but have sheep and land of your own. The land is yours to work as you wish as long as you stay. If your flock’s grown sufficiently and you wish to leave at the end of your time, well, that be it then.’
‘Two years will give us some time, and who knows what there will be at the end of that period.’
‘It’s agreed?’
‘It’s agreed.’
They shook hands.
‘We’ll see about getting the wood,’ Wynand said. ‘Also, if you wanted to extend the buitekamer or move closer to where you’ll have your land …’
‘There is one thing I will need, within a month. I will need a dominee.’
Somewhere behind the partition, something crashed to the floor.
‘Neeltje, are you all right?’
‘Yes, Pa.’
Wynand turned his attention back to Roeloff.
‘I am going to marry Zokho,’ Roeloff said.
Wynand ran his hand through his hair. He let a full minute go by.
‘You’ve thought this through?’
‘There’s nothing to think about.’
‘There will be consequences if you go down to the Cape. Here you can hide something like this. There, it’ll be different. Everyone has slaves. A wine farmer I know has more than twenty working for him in Stellenbosch. Even Stoffel travels with one.’
Roeloff waited for him to come to the point.
‘Bosjesmans are at the bottom of the heap. They have no status. It won’t matter that you’re the grandson of Harman Kloot. When you marry Zokho—and don’t get me wrong, I like the girl—you’ll set the course for the rest of your life. People won’t look at who you are, only at what you have done. Barnard Brink married his Hottentot servant in 1796. They wouldn’t allow him in church or at nachtmaal. Sure, after a while they bought his wheat again and he carries on, after a fashion, but he’s a lonely man, without friends. And when the children come, it’s too late. It’s none of my business what you do, but I ask you to think very carefully before you do anything.’
Roeloff shifted uneasily in his seat. By making the request, he’d invited the lecture. It’s what his father would have said, or his late grandfather, or even Twa, who was Sonqua himself. Roeloff got up and stood respectfully at the door.
‘There’s no right way for Zokho and me. I will raise the anger of my people if I take her, and kill my spirit if I don’t. Also, it’s no longer a question of what I want for myself. There’s a child coming.’
Wynand looked at him. These were strong words for one so young. If he’d doubted Roeloff Kloot’s conviction before, he no longer did. He hoped Neeltje hadn’t been listening.
Chapter Ten
‘Soela! When are you coming out of that room?’
Soela rocked the baby in her arms, trying to get her to stop crying. She could hear David pacing in the kitchen, and Sanna offering to dish up his food. He wouldn’t take it, she knew, refusing to let anyone else but her serve his meals. His work was outside, not in the house, and his wife, not the servant, had to see to his needs. Any moment now he would storm in and start a row.
She put her sore nipple to the infant’s mouth and looked around helplessly, she didn’t know for what. Drieka and Willem had gone to visit Soela’s mother who had broken her leg a few weeks ago, and had not yet returned. Only Sanna was in the house, and she stayed out of David’s way.
‘Soela!’
‘I’m coming.’
His footsteps sounded outside the door and his grizzly bulk filled the doorway.
‘How long must I wait for my food? You’ve had all day to take care of the child.’
