Sydney Moya

©2015

Synopsis

A girl goes to uni and happens upon a girl who looks a lot like her. They become friends. After a while Liesl tells her friend that her mother had a son who was snatched at the hospital. This intrigues Carrie who has never really felt like she belonged.

Two

Ayanda reacted as I'd predicted. She was thrilled to meet Carrie. She promptly decided my friend was the coolest and asked Mum if she could dye a strand of her hair so she could be like Carrie.

I rolled my eyes. My sister was 12, that awkward age where one searches for role models. It used to be me but I guess Carrie blew me out of the water. Not that either of us minded. Carrie thought my sister was cute and didn't mind her being around.

She patiently answered all of Ayanda's questions about her life, if she knew Kate and Prince William, did she have a boyfriend you know the sort of thing a kid her age would ask a perfect stranger!

Sitting next to each other, the resemblance I'd noticed between Ayanda and Carrie was more pronounced than I'd expected.

'It’s like they're sisters,' I thought.

Ethan to my surprise was also literally bowled over by Carrie. He didn't normally care for my friends or Ayanda's as he was 10 an age where most boys found girls annoying.

"Hi you must be Ethan," Carrie said when she saw him.

"Hi," he'd replied almost sullenly.

"So Liesl tells me you're a serious cricketer,"

You could literally see my brother puff up with pride. It was so cute.

"Yes. I'm in the colt’s team at my school," my brother declared.

Carrie wangled a game out of him before I knew it they were heading out onto the lawn to play.

"Come on you two," Carrie said to me and Ayanda as she picked up the ball, "we need more players not fans,"

We followed them onto the makeshift pitch. I was assigned to Ethan's team while Carrie paired up with Ayanda.

To my surprise it was actually quite fun. I'd forgotten how nice it was to play with my siblings and just be a kid again even though Ethan took it with the seriousness reserved for a World Cup final.

Ethan and I won but I think Carrie threw away her wicket on purpose to let Ethan feel good. I caught her winking at me when she lost her wicket. She’d hat tricked the Adam’s kids as Ethan totally liked her after that game. She didn't baby him like we did and she could talk about stuff he liked on an equal footing. I thought Carrie would make a great mother some day.

She continued her charm offensive that evening. Carrie asked real questions showing a genuine interest in them as people. It wasn't long before she had my father and mother eating out of her hand. The whole family liked her. She fitted in so seamlessly.

It was the liveliest dinner I could remember, everyone had something to say which was a change. We all wanted to know about life in Britain and the contrast with life here, Carrie was only too willing to oblige. It wasn't long before the talk turned to our lives at UCT and naturally the conversation drifted towards the much storied protests at the university.

"Don't those kids have studies? They spend so much time demonstrating,"

"They do but the next big issue is to lower fees," Carrie remarked.

"That’s more like it. I'll support that one," Dad said, a big grin plastered on his face.

"I think those kids are right. Rhodes was a monster. We didn't keep Verwoerd's statue did we?" Mum declared.

"So was Tshaka but we have a whole airport named for him," I pointed out just for the sake of it.

"I don't think Tshaka was an architect of white privilege. We have similar issues in the UK about the slave trade. I think what people want isn't empty platitudes about a new South Africa but a place where everyone has equal opportunities. From what I've seen it pays better to be white and people think its unfair in this day and age," Carrie replied.

"Don't I know it? There's this kid straight out of varsity who got a plum post ahead of the black guy who trained him and had been there for 15 years," Dad remarked.

Mum shook her head, "Some things never change. Whites always look after each other. If something doesn't change won't we be another failed African country?"

“I don’t think the poor will stand any more of this for much longer,” Dad opined.

Ethan started talking about our victory over Carrie and Ayanda, bringing a smile to our parents faces and changing the subject.

After dinner Mum and Dad said Carrie could stay as long as she wished. Carrie was taken aback by their offer but graciously accepted it after expressing her thanks.

“Leila that girl looks so much like Liesl and Ayanda, she even reminds me of you when you were younger,” Dad said after dinner that night.

Mum frowned, “I know. I can’t explain it but I feel like I know her,” she said sighing.

“She’s from England?”

“Yes but originally from Cape Town,” Mum answered.

She sighed, her thoughts turning inevitably to the child she’d lost. Not a day passed by that she didn’t think of him and Carrie’s presence here was almost as if someone or something was taunting her. What would her son be like now?

What would he make of his sister’s pretty friend? Would he have brought friends of his own?

My father knew his wife too well, he knew without being told what she was thinking. How couldn’t he, when he thought about it every hour.

“We will find him,” Dad murmured, squeezing his wife’s hand.

“I hate this. I hate that someone stole my baby, how could anyone be so evil?” Mum said, tears flowing down her face.

Some days it seemed like the hole in her heart would never close.

We spent the next few days lazing around the pool and chatting. It was one of those surprisingly sunny winter days in the Cape where it feels like the calendar is lying.

Carrie told me more about her life.

"I just didn't want to go home. Mum is difficult at the best of times. So I prefer to stay away. We can't seem to connect,"

"Hmm why,"

"I'm not the kid I was supposed to be I guess. She wanted a son," Carrie wistfully said.

"That sucks. What's wrong with a girl?"

Carrie shrugged, "Tell me about it,"

"So you guys don’t get along?” I asked.

Carrie shrugged,

"She pays the bills though and I know she loves me. It was better when Dad was alive,"

"Do you mind me asking what happened?"

"He had a heart attack. He was just 45,"

"I'm sorry," I said feeling terrible.

Carrie gave me a wan smile. I'd never seen her so sad.

"I miss him," she said sighing deeply, "We moved to England afterwards. Mum said she couldn't stay in Holland anymore. So she joined the NHS and off we went to London. I left my friends and struggled fitting in. I've never been so lonely,"

"How did you cope?"

"I didn't. Mum remarried two years after Dad died. I wasn't pleased I mean, how could she forget Dad that quick? So I was a bit stroppy for a while.I was horrid to Mum and Steven. Steven's too nice though so I couldn't hate him forever and I realised I was making three people miserable. Dad wouldn't have been proud of that."

I had no idea what to say. I couldn't imagine how I'd react had I been in her shoes. Mine was a happy family in spite of the tragedy that had happened to my family before I was born. Mum and Dad were totally devoted to each other and us. It wasn't for the first time that I realised how sheltered I was.

"I grew up in a way."

I squeezed her hand.

"That's tough," I remarked.

"Your parents are amazing," Carrie informed me.

Mum had decided we were going for a makeover later that day and Carrie was so coming.

"Oh no Mrs Adams I wouldn't want to be a burden," Carrie had replied.

"Don't worry about paying. It's my treat," she'd told my friend.

I smiled at the memory.

"Are they always that nice?"

"Ja you're my guest so you have to be treated great," I answered, “beware they’ll smother you to death,” I joked.

Carrie shook her head, “You’re lucky to have parents who care. It’s quite rare what you guys have,” she informed me.

There was nothing I could say to this without sounding churlish so I changed the subject.

"Ever been in love?"

"Like Romeo and Juliet?"

I nodded.

"There's this boy I used to have a crush on when I was 15. I never told him though,"

"Did you ever try and tell him?"

Carrie eyebrows rose a notch.

"Hell no, were you ever an insecure 15 year old? There was no way I was asking a boy out," she said.

I had to giggle.

"You're good looking. I'm pretty sure most boys would have welcomed your attention," I remarked.

"Again I was 15. And I'm so not the cute type. I had baggage too," Carrie answered.

"Who are you kidding? I know you're good looking, seeing as you look like me. If English boys are anything like the boys here then they’ve been bothering you since you were 12,” I told her.

“I wish, I was a late bloomer,” Carrie confessed.

I looked at her, finding it hard to believe. She was blessed with a nice figure, about 1.7m tall with a medium sized bust, small waist. Her hair was long and glossy and she had a nice oval face and caramel skin. She was quite good looking. I knew she was single but it definitely wasn’t because of her looks.

“I’ll meet the right guy some day,” she remarked.

“Words to live by,” I answered.

As the day wore on we went back to the house and thanks to an innocent comment from Ayanda, I soon found myself showing Carrie the family albums while trying not cringe with embarrassment at my baby pics.

We’d just gone through one album when Carrie reached for another album.

“Is this you?” she asked me, pointing at the first of picture in the album that of a newborn in my mother’s arms.

“What’s wrong?” Carrie asked as we all fell silent.

“That’s Robbie, our elder brother,’’ Ayanda answered.

Carrie looked at me.

“He was stolen from the hospital a day after he was born,” I explained

To be continued