The Hustler

Prologue

1958

'Higher! Come on Joanne,' I screeched in the piercing, high voice of a seven-year-old.

'I'm pushing you as hard as I can Elaine,' my sister shouted whilst assisting me at the swings.

I remember everything clearly. The wind blowing through my hair, the summer sun leaving its golden imprint of warmth on my little face, me turning around to get a quick look at my older sister, my everything. She had always been beautiful. The prettier one of us.

The swing that was located in the back of our garden was surrounded by things that used to bring us two joy. Things that shaped our childhood and the harmony we experienced in the summertimes we spent together. The sprinkler of the garden was doing its work, shooting tiny little drips of water towards the thirsty grass that was longing for humidity. The droplets of water leaving a glittering coat on it.

My father always left the sprinkler on in these days of heat and drought. It was his biggest priority to retain a well-kept English garden with a well-kept English lawn. 'It's the front garden that is the real window to a man's soul,' he would always tell my sister and me proudly. Sadly, this was the last summer, in which our front-garden maintained a presentable and clean window to my father's soul. But at that time, I had no idea what was yet to come.

My sister and I continued the playing at the swing. At one point we were interrupted by our jolly play session. Footsteps made their way to us through the wet grass.

'Uncle Michael, uncle Michael,' I yelled whilst yanking my thin arms through the air which was humidified by the sprinkler, 'Look at me, look at me!'

Uncle Michael, who wasn't really our uncle but a close friend and business partner of my father stopped in front of the swing and smiled at us in his usual congeniality.

'You two have gotten so big,' he stated, 'and even more beautiful!'

My sister and I stopped swinging and immediately ran towards our uncle. He kneeled down to us, as we were throwing our arms around him and giving him a tight embrace. We had always loved our uncle Michael. Next to his well-spirited manners, uncle Michael was also a handsome gentleman. His brown hair was always styled impeccably and his manners could bring any woman in awe. He was everything we wanted our father to be. I took a look into uncle Michael's face, gazing at his doe eyes and great facial features. Seeing his high cheekbones, chiselled jawline, slightly crooked nose, well-groomed eyebrows and a small scar that took the groomed look away a little, but only just a little, I knew that he was what I would have to look for in my future husband.

Michael picked me up and took Joanne's hand. 'Come on girls. Your mother has prepared the dinner and your father is on his way to the fridge, grabbing some cool drinks. It's time for us to eat,' Michael explained to us. We both let out a squeal of excitement and contentment and our uncle led us to the veranda, through the wet grass and towards the mouthwatering smell of a freshly roasted meatloaf.

The dinner was a feast. We often had these Sunday afternoons in our garden. Just me, my sister, my parents and Uncle Michael. The grownups were chatting and having a gay time and I and my sister would be stuck in our imagination, creating plans regarding our future lives as princesses. Sometimes my father let out a vulgar joke causing my mother to elbow him in a harsh, yet loving way. My mother was the most caring person. Displaying kindness and helping others was her biggest priority. This was one of the reasons her job as a nurse suited her perfectly. I have a clear remembrance of my mother in her nursing costume, her luscious dark brown hair tied up neatly in a bun and the white costume falling onto her womanly curves. Regarding her timeless beauty and stunning looks, it had always startled me that such a beautiful woman could marry a man like my father. My father was in no means ugly, but he really wasn't the most handsome person you could've imagined. He had a lanky and lean body, curly blond hair, big blue eyes and his long face, thin lips and bulbous Nose gave him a slightly rugged look. Nevertheless, he was a neat man who had his principles and radiated a calm kind of energy. This was a great contrast to my mother, who was known to be quite a wild and lively woman. Maybe this was the reason that they teamed up to a great couple and immaculate parents.

After dinner, we all sat together at the table in the warm summer heat. The grownups were full up, therefore seemingly unable to move and we children experienced a strike of energy entering our small bodies which were fueled by the vast amount of food we had eaten.

'Mummy, can we please have ice cream?' my older sister begged. Because I would always reenact and emulate my older sister, I started begging as well.

'Yes mummy, can we pretty please have ice creams. It's unbelievably hot!'

After a few rounds of begging and negotiating me and my sister finally managed to convince my mother.

'All right girls. I'll just head out to the shops to get some.'

After we struck victory me and my sister hopped back to the swings happily and laughing, the hot summer air relentlessly increasing our appetite for the sweat, oh so sweet treat we were going to receive, not knowing that it was not a sweet treat that was going to be received. We were going to receive news that would change our lives, summer days and childhood forever.