Radical

D plus 3

Rosie woke up with a hangover, and last night's blesser pumping away at her, not exactly consensually. But at least he was getting on with it, instead of expecting her to make ego-stroking noises and repeat his name over and over again. Plus he had been generous with the beer, and had even shared his meal with her.

He finished with a sigh, followed by a grunt, and got up to put on his pants. "You have to go now, I'm going to work," he said. "Get dressed."

Rosie blinked at him blearily. She was still drunk. "Water?" she croaked, trying to sit up and reaching for her clothes.

"Tap at the end of the row. Toilet's on the other side of this block," he gestured.

He waited for her impatiently as she pulled on her skirt and blouse and sauntered out past him. He closed the bolt on the door to the shack and locked it with a padlock. Like he has anything to steal, she thought. "See you sometime," she waved.

He gave a strange half-nod and walked off in the other direction.

Thursday, she thought. None of the shebeens within walking distance had anything going on tonight, so she might as well go home. No-one would buy her a drink this early in the morning.

What's the date? she suddenly wondered, squinting up. Shouldn't the child grants be in my SASSA account by now? Probably, she thought. Let's check, then I can buy my own beer.

Half an hour later she fumbled her ATM pin twice before finally pressing the balance button on the screen. She peered at the screen, concentrating. She was expecting almost seven hundred rand, what with that weird debit order that she couldn't get SASSA to block.

R3 007.22. She swayed a few seconds longer before it registered. Someone made a mistake. Well, their problem. She withdrew all of it and tucked it into her bra.

On her way to the offsales she walked past the Pakistani's shop and halted for a moment. Then she walked inside to the fridge with the chicken pieces.

* * *

Her sister's face bloomed anger when she noticed Rosie approaching.

"Where have you been?" she screamed. "I told you last month no more chances! Go find somewhere else to live..." Her voice faded when she spotted the plastic bags. Almost sober after the hour's walk, Rosie lifted her hands to show her sister the bags and their contents. Chicken. Maize meal. Morogo. Pilchards. Onions and tomatoes and a small bottle of Oros. Three quarts of beer.

She put the bags down on the floor of the shack and opened a quart. She fell asleep in the sun before she'd finished drinking it.

* * *

"KG..." said Jabu when Kagiso answered the call. "I've been thinking about what you said, and you're right. If I get a Dividend too. Can you come in to run the shop while I go open my PostBank account? I'll spend the morning showing you the ropes, and I'll be five minutes away if there's something you can't handle. It's quiet, you'll probably only be bored."

"So you're considering it?" Kagiso asked.

"Bro, if my Dividend also happens next Monday, we'll weigh up my ideas and your ideas. We can start. It won't be easy, and we'll work our asses off. But I think you're right, we can do it."

"What time? I can get there in twenty minutes or so?"

"Shop opens at nine thirty, so I'll be there about ten past. Any time after that," replied Jabu.

"I'll see you soon, then. Bye."

* * *

"Bongi," said Eugene, when Sibongile walked into the coffee shop ten minutes early. "Would you mind joining me in the office?"