LITMIR.BIZ

      CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

      ‘Are they all gone, Tannie? My ma said it was firecrackers but Pa said it was shooting.’

      I am not sure how long I had been sitting there in my own world, before this little voice pulled me back. My blue dress had dried, sticking to my skin.

      ‘And then I saw the people with the blood,’ he said, ‘so Pa must have been right. Firecrackers can’t do that to you, can they, Tannie? Ma says they are dangerous. There were policemen here, Tannie, there are still some.’

      He was looking up at me with big eyes, his hands held together in front of him. A skinny boy in swimming shorts and hungry ribs. There was a policeman putting yellow tape around the room. ‘POLICE’ was written in blue capitals across the tape. Another policeman was taking photographs.

      ‘Are they dead, Tannie? Are they?’

      ‘I don’t know,’ I said.

      ‘Me and my sister went inside, like you said. We were hiding behind the couch.’

      I realised I was clutching the Tupperware to my chest. I relaxed my grip and put it on my lap. His gaze followed the food.

      ‘I was scared, Tannie. We were all scared. But it’s over now, isn’t it?’

      ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘it’s over now.’

      The adults and some of the children were going back into their rooms, but a few of the children stayed in the safety of the main house, peering out from the doorway. They were frightened and needed something for the shock.

      ‘Cake,’ I said, standing up, pulling at my dress to get it straight.

      The little boy raced ahead of me into the house, saying: ‘It’s the tannie with the cake. It’s all over now, she says. She’s going to give us cake.’

      I sat on a beige couch and the kids shuffled closer to me, to my Tupperware. The couches were pretend leather; they felt plastic and sticky. There was a policewoman in the office talking to the ma in her curlers.

      ‘Children,’ I said, ‘I promised you all cake. And you will get it.’