Unravelled Read Free Page B

– both times after particularly trying sessions with Ntatemogolo. The bell makes a wonderful sound and is supposed to clear my head. The anklet is about a century old, and I can’t help worrying that if I put it on it will fall apart.
    I take it out of the box and examine the faded design on the chipped and scratched wooden beads. There’s something humbling about holding a piece of history in my hand. Ntatemogolo promised he’d tell me the story of the girl who first wore it, but we’ve been rather busy.
    I put the anklet back, close the box and put it back in its place. I glance at my phone and gasp; it’s almost six-thirty. I jump up and shove the File into my school bag; I’m giving it back to Wiki today. Then I head to the kitchen for breakfast.
    Dad is standing over the counter, gulping down a cup of coffee. His shirt is slightly rumpled, his brown hair is standing up at the back, his milky skin looks flushed, and behind his glasses his eyes are half-closed.
    “Morning, love,” he says with a sigh, dragging himself over to kiss my forehead.
    “Hi, Dad. You look terrible.”
    He gives me a weak, lopsided grin. “Just tired. I was up most of the night working on a report for Salinger.”
    I open the fridge and take out the milk. “What time did you get home?”
    “Late. After eleven, I think. Was Rakwena here?”
    “Ja; he left around nine.” I make myself a bowl of muesli and eat it standing up, watching him. “Are you almost done with the report? I think you need a break.”
    He yawns and puts his empty mug on the counter. “I’m done, but they want me to oversee a big project they’re starting soon. I have to hire research assistants from the university before then. God, I’m knackered.”
    I frown at him. “Let me at least make you a proper breakfast, Dad – you can’t survive on coffee.”
    He shakes his head and goes to fetch his briefcase from the dining room table. “I have a meeting at eight – got to prepare. See you later, love.”
    I frown as he heads out. After breakfast I turn on the radio while I wait for Lebz. Auntie Lydia comes in at quarter to seven, her petite frame buried under bags of sewing material. She runs a tailoring business on the side, but I can’t remember the last time she brought this much work with her. I hurry to open the door for her.
    “Wow,” I marvel as she dumps the lot on the dining table. “Are you opening a shop?”
    She laughs. “I have a lot of orders this week. Is your father gone?”
    I nod. “You just missed him. Any messages?”
    “It’s nothing…” Her sigh says otherwise. “He forgot to pay me yesterday.”
    I rummage around on the dining table where Dad usually leaves Auntie Lydia’s pay, but there’s no sign of an envelope. “He must have forgotten all about it. He’s been really busy. Should I call and remind him?”
    She shakes her head and pats my arm. “I’ll call his office later. Aren’t you going to be late? Where’s Malebogo?”
    “I don’t know.” I reach into my pocket for my phone and check the time. “She’s usually here by now. I’m sure she’s on the way.”
    Auntie Lydia goes off to clean the kitchen and I stand on the doorstep, watching the road. Finally I see Lebz hurrying towards the house, scarlet braids flying behind her. Students at the Syringa Institute of Excellence aren’t allowed “unnatural” hair styles, but the teachers can’t seem to agree on how to define “unnatural”, so people like Lebz get away with anything.
    She lifts the latch on the front gate and pushes it open, then runs up the driveway, leaving the gate wide open behind her as usual.
The gate,
I tell her silently. She comes to an abrupt stop, turns around and goes back to close the gate. Being a telepath comes in very handy sometimes.
    “News!” she squeals, almost knocking me over as she bolts into the house.
    Only a boy could get Lebz this excited. “I’m fine, thanks for asking. Can we go? We’re late