Agaat - Marlene van Niekerk [19]
Situation with J. God be thanked better now that I’m doing something about the matter. That it should cost so much but I’d rather not think about it. How long will he remain satisfied? He’s threatening to burn my diaries. He says if he has to clear out his stuff all the time as if it’s trash why can my books litter the place secret writing without full stops and commas perhaps I should go and read it out loud on radio so that he too can get to know the soul of woman and the distress of hr hand-maid.
Would in any case have to get in a nursemaid farmgirls too dirty & uneducated. J. thinks he’s now shown what he can do with wheat & isn’t all that interested in the farm any more & I ever more involved in the farming it can’t be neglected with the arrival of the child. A. will have to be my eyes and ears here on Gdrift. Must be ever more vigilant & keep my hand on routines of shearing & sowing & slaughtering. Planning & management bore him. Soil & water are all my responsibility & I tell him that’s the difference between a living and a dead farm. He says he’s going to write a piece in the Farmer’s Weekly: The options of a gentleman farmer, a living farm with a dead wife or a dead farm with a living wife now I’m giving up pleading.
J. at least looks after the purchases & that’s where I let it be now. Just wish he’d do his own research about implements & stop messing around with agents. Have a way of disappearing off the face of the earth with their commission & only when you’re stuck in the middle of the harvest with a broken-down combine do you hear about faulty parts that you should have had replaced before you even switched on the thing. A careless species. Cheap psychology & flashy talk. J. will just have to learn through his mistakes.
Will really not be able to manage without a good childminder. A. can write & read & cook well can trust her 100% very diligent very conscientious should really not be too much of a problem & she’ll develop nicely in time to come.
Considering salary, savings account post office. Still have to convince J. of that he says she gets food & clothing & a roof over her head from beginning to end that’s better than life assurance with Sanlam. For the time being he’s satisfied with his stoep office.
Have to put on a brave face all the time. Feeling nauseous. Faint. See black & have to sit down. All these things that change so quickly. Must just keep going & think of nothing. Or listen to music. Bach. Bach always helps. Have to wait till J. is out otherwise I’ll have to hear again put a sock in the holy barrel organ.
2
Half past nine on the alarm clock. Punctual to the second. From her footfall I can tell that I’ve gone and unleashed something again. Tchi, tchi, tchi, go her soles on the floor as she approaches down the passage, extra emphasis in the heels. Touchy when I want something out of the normal routine. Better not look her in the eye then. I keep my gaze on the white paper on which my hand lies in its splint.
She puts down the tray on the dressing table. She picks up the pen that has fallen from my hand. She grunts as she comes upright.
Ai, ai, she says, ai ai ai, what monkey business is this now?
She pulls out the clipboard from under my hand, turns it upside down, looks at it and tilts it back at me again. She holds out the paper with the wavering line and taps on it with the back of the pen.
L, she sounds, l, so that I can see her tongue in the front of her mouth.
L is for lie, she says. I know you’re lying.
She adjusts three of the bed’s back panels so that I tilt slightly, at a bit more of an angle, my head higher, but still on my back. That’s my best position for breathing.
Lie lady lie, Agaat singspeaks through her teeth on the inhalation, lie lady lie, while she pushes in the pegs and retightens the screws.