The hell was it with kids, Mace wondered, that they did so much reading? He stretched out, his head against Oumou’s thigh, his bare feet nudging at his daughter, irritating her. Christa smacked at his ankles, not breaking her concentration, not using any force, more as if she were brushing off an insect. ‘Mace,’ said Oumou, ‘leave her’ - also telling him in French to stop annoying the girl. About them the crowd had thickened, not a patch of lawn visible beneath the blankets and the cotton throws. People snacking on picnics, quaffing down wine like it was an obligation in the city of the grape. Oumou and Treasure drinking sparkling from long-stem glasses, Mace and Pylon tooting beer. ‘So what d’you think, Oumou?’ said Treasure, ‘about their taking a weekend away.’ ‘It’s business,’ said Pylon, his voice high in protest. ‘You said. Like you’re going to go somewhere in a plane if it’s business? Mace does the flying.’ ‘Protecting the high ‘n mighty,’ said Pylon.
What do You think about Payback - A Cape Town Thriller?
