A Death in the Family Read Free Page B

you’ll have to wait for a few days. This is off-limits to you.”
    â€œBut…”
    Mabaku put his hand on Kubu’s shoulder. “Go home, Kubu. Get some sleep. There’s nothing you can do here except cause problems later on. Go home, my friend.” He turned to one of the constables. “Get a car and take him home.”
    Mabaku turned Kubu and led him away.
    Kubu’s head dropped, and his anger was replaced with resignation.
    â€œI’m sorry, Jacob. I can’t believe he’s gone.”
    â€œNone of us can. But we’ll catch the bastard who did it.”

 
    CHAPTER 5
    The next morning, Kubu and Amantle were up early. Kubu had managed a couple of hours sleep, but Amantle had tossed and turned in grief. Amantle made a pot of tea and a stack of toast with jam, but neither felt like eating. To be polite, Kubu nibbled at a single slice, washing it down with tea, but couldn’t face any more.
    While they had a second cup of tea, Kubu said gently, “Mother, you shouldn’t be here on your own. I know the neighbors are kind, but you should be with your family. Come and spend some time with us in Gaborone.”
    Amantle said nothing for a few moments, and Kubu was afraid she’d reject the idea out of hand. Then she said, “There is no room in your house. Where will I sleep?”
    â€œYou can use the kids’ bedroom. They’ll sleep on mattresses in the lounge. They won’t mind; it’ll be like a camping adventure for them.”
    Amantle finished drinking her tea. “All right,” she said at last. “I will go and pack some things.”
    Kubu breathed a sigh of relief, surprised she’d agreed so easily.
    â€œBut I will come for only a few days,” she continued. “I must be here to receive all the condolences and to prepare for the funeral next Saturday. It will be a large gathering because your father was known and respected by many people.”
    Kubu had expected that Amantle would insist on a traditional funeral—a weeklong event that involved the whole community. Although surprised she was willing to curtail the preparations, he was happy she was going to spend time at his home—it would be good for her.
    His thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock on the door. He sighed and went to answer it. It was sure to be the first of the neighbors looking in.
    â€œAh, Kubu. This is a sad day indeed. The first day without our beloved Wilmon. How are you? How is Amantle?”
    â€œMma Ngombe. How kind of you to come. We’re as well as can be expected. My mother will be staying with us tonight. She’s busy getting ready at the moment.”
    The woman nodded doubtfully. “But what of the funeral arrangements?”
    Kubu parried her questions as best as he could, but it was nearly five minutes before the well-meaning woman finally left. As soon as Amantle came out with a cloth bag of clothes and toiletries, Kubu helped her into the Land Rover and left quickly before any other sympathizers could arrive to pay their respects.
    Amantle was uncharacteristically quiet in the car. She answered if asked a question; otherwise, she had little to say. She didn’t cry, but Kubu knew tears were very close. And when they arrived at his house, and Joy rushed to open the gate for them and helped Amantle from the car, both women dissolved into uncontrollable sobs as they hugged each other.
    Kubu left them to their grief and took Amantle’s bag inside. Ilia, their fox terrier, sensed something was wrong and, instead of her usual enthusiastic welcome, sat quietly on the veranda, whining softly.
    When Joy and Amantle eventually came inside, Kubu left them in the lounge and went out into the small garden of succulents and acacias. Ilia trotted up and put her front paws on Kubu’s thigh, hoping to have her ears scratched. But Kubu didn’t notice. He, too, was lost in grief.
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    AT THE