Chapter 1
“All things truly wicked start from innocence”
A Couple of Years Earlier.
It was early morning, and I awoke with a jolt to the sound of my persistent, annoying alarm clock. That constant buzzing was the most irritating sound in the world. I hated that damn clock. After promptly switching it off, I lay back on my crisp white sheets and wondered if Mom had remembered to buy me a new one to take with me to Pretoria. Somehow, I knew that if I took that clock with me, it would bring back all the bad memories from school - and that was the last thing I needed.
I had hated school so much. Every single day was like walking straight into hell. I was teased and ridiculed regularly. I had a learning disability and struggled a lot academically, particularly with my reading and writing. Most of the time, I was at the bottom of my class and automatically classified as the stupid, naughty child.
Nobody except my parents was prepared to go through all the procedures and help they could find in order to make day-to-day life a bit more bearable for me.
A lack of oxygen at birth was the cause of my learning disability. The left side of my brain was under-developed. That was the main reason I was right-brain dominant. If you are right-brain dominant, you are normally more visual and tend to process information intuitively as a big picture first, and then look at the detail. You are also more practically orientated than theoretical. The right side of the brain also controls the left side of the body, and most right-brained people are left-handed. I, however, am right-brained and right-handed, although I am ambidextrous with writing.
Year 10 was a total nightmare. Schoolwork was harder, and I knew that I was going to struggle to move up to Years 11 and 12. In South Africa, you need to pass Afrikaans and English to pass your year. I slid on my ass over the years but academically I was going downhill… fast. So, with the blessing of my parents, I decided that the best thing for me was to leave school two years earlier than I was supposed to. I enrolled in a fashion design course at Pretoria College. Attending college was meant to be easier and more practical. I was a very practical person, so this would be perfect for me. As it turned out, I loved every minute of it!
But leaving school two years early came at a price. Growing up in a small town like Meyerton, with a number of families in competition with each other, made it hard for a child like me, especially as my parents were not part of the in-crowd. The biggest challenge for me was keeping my friends. I was not a very popular choice of friend when it came to their mothers and fathers. I still remember my best friend’s mom telling her not to hang out with me because I was a bad influence. But that never stopped us, we saw each other often and spent heaps of time together. Fuck - I was only struggling in school, but still I was classified by some of the mothers as a bad influence and a deadbeat. None of them ever saw that I always made sure their kids were ok and safe. I believe that when I left school, the stories that made the rounds went something along the lines of: ‘She’s a washout that’s why she dropped out two years early’, or they ‘heard that I was pregnant’. Well, I was one of a handful of girls that left school a virgin, so go figure! When I came back after the December holidays with a flat tummy, the stories continued: ‘She must have gone for an abortion’. Now, in those days abortion was not legal at all, and the stories were far from the truth. But that’s unfortunately what happened in these small one-horse towns in the late 80’s. My name came up in lots of household conversations, and I can tell you today, at least I was an exciting subject for the gossipers, by the sounds of things.
The only happy memories I had from school were the times I spent with my friends. I loved my mates and I was lucky enough to be surrounded by them at school and after school. Particularly the boys, as I recall, with a faint smile on my face. I was such a tomboy growing up. I loved interacting with them.
Now, don’t get too excited - I don’t mean in that way. I always had heaps of boyfriends at school, but they were the kind you could go fishing or bike riding with. Sure, I was a tomboy, but I was still a girl at heart, and I wasn’t surprised to find myself falling deeply in love with a gorgeous boy named Fabian Rock. If I remember correctly, he was also classified a washout. He was a year or two older than I was, but for some reason he, as well as all the other boys in my school, always saw me as one of the guys and never showed any particular interest in me as a girlfriend. I guess I was happy just being their friend, but in the process, I did miss out on all the schoolyard relationships. In hindsight, I’m not sure if this was a good thing or not.
I never even kissed a boy properly in my school years…although I did try, once. Fabian Rock, the boy that I liked, came over to my house to watch a movie one balmy Saturday afternoon. We sat very close to each other on the couch and were chatting and laughing about the film, when he suddenly leaned over to kiss me. I don’t think our lips even touched when I heard my Dad say:
“What are you two doing?”, as he approached us from the kitchen to ask if we wanted snacks and something to drink. I wanted to kick myself. I was very fond of my Dad, so this was way too damn embarrassing for me to do again, while I was in school and living under his roof. What was I thinking?
That was the first and last time I ever tried the boyfriend thing. From then on, I was happy to just secretly fall in love with boys that I knew already had girlfriends. That way I would be safe and could just go bike riding with them whenever I wanted, without having to worry about the kissing thing.
In retrospect, my childhood was so uncomplicated. I was carefree and very happy - my home environment was loving and warm, and I was always happy to go home. Naturally my parents had the odd argument now and then, just like every other ordinary couple. I can distinctly remember how awful it was as a youngster to hear them fight. It sounded so scary, but of course everything looks and sounds bigger and more frightening than it is when you’re small. But no matter how intense those arguments became; my father was never abusive towards my mother and never raised his hand to her – ever.
As I lay on my bed that morning, surrounded by sixteen years of childhood memories, I realized I was going to miss my family and this home. I’d always considered it my safe haven, and a place where I could openly speak my mind and have honest conversations with my father and mother. I could talk to them about anything and everything, and they always encouraged me to make my own decisions. They trusted me, and I trusted them.
Like most parents, when I made mistakes they were always there to help, and they supported me in my decisions… but they never said, “We told you so”.
They gave me the opportunity to be myself, to learn from my mistakes and to form my personality and opinions under their loving guidance and unselfish nurturing. But I felt the time had come to spread my wings, start a new phase in life. I was so excited to finally be on my way to college.
Ronell, my sister, had already moved to Pretoria. She suggested that I stay with her for the first couple of months, until I learnt my way around the city and got used to my new life as a college student. As kids, we used to squabble over everything - perhaps because Ronell was six years older than me, and we didn’t have a lot in common. We were very different from a young age.
When I moved in with her, Ronell’s husband started his basic training in the army, so having me around for a little company worked out beautifully. I loved living with her and for the first time in our lives, we started bonding with each other. As kids we never really got along. Maybe because of our age gap, I’m not sure. This arrangement also gave me the opportunity to mature and develop outside the safety net of my family home, and it wasn’t long before I felt ready to take the next step in my life’s journey.
In April 1990, I moved into the city on my own, to live in a private hotel close to the college. At the end of January, I had turned 17, and it was time for me to explore life in the big wide world. It was a daunting, yet thrilling challenge, when my mother and father dropped me off at Majella, a private hotel in Pretoria, the capital of South Africa. Pretoria is 109km from the town I grew up in. I felt so happy to be starting this new phase in my life and knew I had made the right decision to leave school. I was also looking forward to making new friends and proving to myself that I could survive in society. Creating a success of my life was my chance to turn things around.
Most of the work in my fashion design course was practical, so I didn’t have the stress of failing. It took me a couple of months to settle and get into a routine, but I soon became friends with some amazing people and loved the life that I had made for myself in the city. I lived to the fullest. Once again, I made male friends, who protected me like a sister and took me with them all over town. My Dad gave me a MINI 1000 that the two of us restored from scratch and painted cherry red. Two of my male friends Andre and Marius also had MINIs, and the three of us would often go racing with them over weekends. Our other friends used to call us Red, Yellow, and Blue.
Unfortunately, one particular morning on my way to my friend’s, a bright spark made a U-turn on a one-way street. The car between him and I had just enough time to swerve out of the way, but I was not so lucky. My MINI started to slide out of control and I crashed straight into him.
That was the last of my MINI; it was a complete write-off. Luckily, I walked away with a couple of bruises and bloody knees. My Dad decided not to buy me a car again and told me that my next car would be one I bought myself. He did send me my red scooter all the way from Meyerton, the little town in the Vaal Triangle where I grew up, so I was able to get from point A to point B, and in the end, it wasn’t all that bad. Some days I walked to college, it was a good stroll through the city, and I loved to stop at one of the coffee shops along the way, before class. It made me feel so grown up.
Not long after I moved into Majella, a guy that also lived there gave me his pet crab. I named him Rex. During the warm summer afternoons, I used to take Rex outside onto the patio for a run while I soaked up the sun and read the latest magazine I had bought. At first the owners of the hotel weren’t too impressed with me having a crab as a pet. In the end they decided to cut me a bit of slack, when they saw how much entertainment he provided the other guests. Rex would spend most of the afternoons with me on the patio, and at night when I had classes, he would live in the shower in my room. I made him a nice little pad there, and I used the shower in the communal bathrooms down the hall, so as not to disturb him and his habitat. Unfortunately, one weekend when I went home to visit my parents, the girl that was supposed to look after him, forgot to feed him and Rex died from hunger. I was devastated and felt very alone for a long time. He was a great pet - weird, but still a great pet.
Chapter 2
“You’ll be surprised what I’m capable of, Azelene……..”
Around June that year I met a very handsome, enigmatic guy called Paul, through a friend who was also living at the hotel. Andy was engaged to Paul’s sister, a beautiful girl who always looked like she had just stepped out of the pages of a glossy magazine. The whole family obviously had great genes and appeared so ‘put together’. I’d never seen an entire family who were so blessed with natural good looks - Paul included, he was tall and gorgeous.
I knew he was out of my league, so I just took to drooling whenever I saw him, visiting Andy. Some afternoons I would even run home from college, so I could sit outside on the patio on the off chance that he might visit that day.
Before you get too judgmental, let’s try to remember that I was still a teenager and had only just turned 17 earlier that year! I wasn’t sure how old Paul was, but I guessed he was in his early 20s.
Clearly, my hormones were in full swing and wreaking havoc with my physical and mental state every time I saw this guy. Up until this point I was still a virgin. I knew it was just a teenage crush and kept my feelings for him hidden. I do recall spending many evenings sitting in my bedroom on the window ledge, listening to Roxette and crying my heart out because I missed this man that I didn’t even know.
At least my teenage fantasies kept me busy and out of any real trouble. The most drama I encountered was when the hotel manager sent someone to my room to ask me to turn my music down occasionally…
Overall, Majella was a great place to live. Because it was so close to the college, most of its residents were students. In addition to the company of my new friends, it also gave me a delicious plate of food every night. I had my own 4x4m room to relax in, complete with a shower I gave up for Rex for a couple of months, and a basin.
I’d brought a few bits of furniture with me. I had a comfortable mattress on the floor with plenty of scatter cushions, but I didn’t have a table or any chairs. The walls were decorated in typical teenage fashion with posters of pop stars like Sinead O’ Connor, Madonna, M.C Hammer, UB40 and heaps of photos of my precious school friends.
I had also brought my portable colour TV from home and was lying on my mattress one evening watching movies, when I heard a knock at the door. Evidently the manager couldn’t be complaining - I didn’t have the volume up that loud…
“It’s open,” I said casually, lifting my head. The person on the other side either didn’t hear me or chose to ignore me, because they knocked again. If it was one of the other boarders I knew they would have just walked in. I wasn’t expecting any visitors so, slightly annoyed at the interruption, I rolled my eyes and heaved myself off the bed to open the door.
I was shocked to see Paul standing in my doorway, all 6’6” of him in the flesh and looking divine.
I’m sure my gasp was audible. He looked more handsome than ever before, if that was possible, and I had to tilt my head right back to look him in the eyes – wow, he was tall. My mind started to wander before I quickly came to my senses and mumbled, “Um, Andy isn’t here. I uh… suppose he’s in his room”.
“Hello, Azelene. You know it’s polite to greet someone before you start talking,” Paul said, and gave me a huge grin.
I just stood there stunned and didn’t know what to say. That’s when he leaned in towards me, and I could faintly smell the fresh scent of his aftershave.
“I’m not here to visit Andy…. I’m here to see you, Azelene,” he said, quietly.
My stomach did a complete somersault and every hair on my body stood on end. Me? Why on earth would he come to see me?
Still at a loss for words, I continued to stand there with my mouth hanging open.
“It’s also good manners to invite a guest in when you open the door, you know? Aren’t you going to invite me in, Azelene?” he asked, with a slight chuckle. I loved the way he said my name.
“You came to see me? Why would you want to see me?” I heard myself ask. As soon as the words came out my mouth I wanted to kick myself, but he just kept his cool and followed me into my room, making a point of slowly closing the door behind him.
Paul stopped in his tracks when he saw my mattress on the floor. I was suddenly aware that this isn’t the type of room that you invite such a gorgeous-looking man into, particularly someone who’s so far out of your reach.
But it didn’t seem to make any difference to him. He just took off his jacket (probably wondering where to put it), placed it neatly on the floor next to the base of my bed and sat down on one of the scatter cushions.
“Well, this is interesting. I like the photos of your friends on the wall. So what does a guy have to do to get on the Wall of Fame?” he asked with that beautiful smile still on his face, looking me up and down from his position on the floor.
“Nothing really, I can take one of you and add it to my wall as soon as I get the film developed. Is it ok if I take a photo of you?” I asked. There is no way that I wanted this moment to pass. I would love to have his picture on my wall. I took my camera out of my drawer and took a photo. That smile was as beautiful as ever.
“So now I will have to come and see you again to see myself on your Wall of Fame, hey Azelene?” I just smiled and nodded my head like a naughty child. “Aren’t you going to sit down?” he asked.
“No thanks, I prefer to stand,” I said softly, looking at him. He smiled. I shook my head and realized how stupid that must have sounded. I decided to salvage my response with, “I don’t have anything to offer you…to drink I mean?” All my mind could focus on was that this handsome man I had been lusting after was sitting on my bedroom floor!
“Would you like something to drink, Azelene?” He asked and smiled again.
Again, I nodded my head like a small child eager for a treat and, as if he was able to read my mind, he stood up.
“Let’s go for a milkshake. That is, if you’re ok getting into a car with a man you don’t know anything about?”
“I know Andy, Paul. I also know that Andy and Mandy are engaged, so I don’t think you’ll do me any harm,” I said and smiled cheekily.
“You’ll be surprised what I am capable of Azelene…” he chuckled softly and raised his eyebrows.
I giggled as he took my hand in his and escorted me out of the room. He opened the passenger door of his white Honda Ballade and I slid into the seat, noting that his aftershave seemed to linger in the car as well.
I inhaled deeply and smiled. I was sitting in Paul’s car - how awesome was this? I looked out the window and saw one of my girlfriends peeking from behind her bedroom curtain. I knew that when we got back, all my friends would sit outside on the patio to see what was going on. That was just how they were. They all knew that I thought Paul was good-looking, but they also thought that he was way out of my league. So, what was Mr. Perfect planning with innocent me? What made him decide to visit me and now take me out for a milkshake? The questions flooded my mind, but I decided to push them aside and simply enjoy the moment.
Chapter 3
“It’s not what’s been said
– It’s how it was said!”
We drove to Lolly-Pop, a road house not too far from where I lived. I was happy and in my own little heaven. We didn’t chat too much while driving. When we got there, Paul leaned over and opened the glove compartment and grabbed a pack of Camel Filter Cigarettes. I opened my door but before I could even swing my legs out, he grabbed my arm.
“Close your door please,” he insisted.
I did as he asked and placed my hands in my lap.
“Good girl,” he said, without smiling, and released my arm. Climbing out of the car he walked around to open my door. I got out, smiled shyly and thanked him. He never returned the smile, which made me feel a bit uncomfortable.
We sat down, and a waitress strolled over. I wondered what she was thinking, seeing us together. Did she know this was our first date or did she think we were a couple who had known each other for a long time? How did we look together? Paul was head and shoulders taller than me, and he had this aura about him. I don’t know what it was, but he was not like any other guy I knew. I ordered a lime milkshake and he ordered vanilla. Paul took the pack of Camel filters out of his pocket and offered me one. I took a cigarette and placed it between my lips. He lit it for me and I inhaled the smoke deep into my lungs, as if I was breathing him into my body along with it. Paul asked me what I usually smoked, and I told him, Vogue.
“You’re quite a tough girl Azelene, not many girls enjoy Camel Filter,” he said, and smiled.
I didn’t answer, but thought to myself, Paul, at this stage I’ll smoke tea leaves if that will impress you.
I didn’t know a lot about him, so I decided to ask a couple of questions.
“I know that you have a very beautiful sister named Mandy, do you have any other brothers or sisters?” Paul blinked as he took a drag from his cigarette.
“Yes, I have an older brother Danny - Danny Hewson. He’s my half-brother.”
“Does Danny live with you guys?” I asked. Andy had told me that Mandy and Paul still lived with their parents, but he had never mentioned their brother.
“No, Danny lives with Amy, his wife and their two kids Max and Ben.”
He picked up his milkshake and paused to ask me about my family and siblings before taking a sip. I told him that it was only Ronell and myself, that she was six years older than me and married. I also told him about my parents. He asked about my studies and why I had left school. It didn’t seem to bother him that I hadn’t finished school. I got the idea that he was just curious.
After we finished our milkshakes, he offered me another cigarette and we smoked it in almost complete silence. It felt like ages before he spoke.
“I suppose it’s a good time to take you home.” I thought to myself, “Not that there is anybody home waiting for me now, is there?” but I decided to keep quiet. I was sure my Dad would be impressed with this man’s manners. Taking me home, because it’s a good time, wow that’s a new one! I smiled at the thought. Anyway, it had been a great afternoon for me. I thought that this would be the first and only date I ever went on with Mr. Perfect. By now he must have realised that we didn’t have much in common and that I was just a young girl supposed to be in school, giggling and having fun with her girlfriends.
As we approached Majella I saw my mates sitting on the patio, waiting for me. “I’m going to be the talk of the hotel for the next week or two”, I thought. We pulled up to the curb and before Paul had turned off the ignition, I swung my door open and jumped out, the way any excited teenager would do. As I walked around the car I noticed the expression on his face had changed. He held out his hand and I took it. He walked straight to the entrance of the hotel and silently led me into the lift. Without saying anything we stood side by side as it made its way up to my floor. The doors opened, and he waited for me to exit first. I walked out of the lift without looking back. When we got to my room I unlocked the door quickly, but before I could open it Paul grabbed my arm, bent down and whispered firmly in my ear.
“Never, ever embarrass me in front of your friends like that again.” He held his grip for a couple of seconds, then slowly lifted his head, looked at me with penetrating eyes and smiled. At first, I was surprised, because I thought he was angry, but then I was relieved to see that he was smiling. I wasn’t quite sure what to say, but I did have a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach that was difficult to explain.