The morning mist starts clearing in the Sondagskloof. Kat watches the scene from the farmhouse stoep, a vintage travel suitcase next to her. She smiles as she looks around her, and takes the silence in.
“Well, well. Looks like everyone’s out on a mission. And when the mouse is gone, the cat is mos baas.”
She moves to the music system in the corner of the living room. She finds a record she knows none of the other family members like, and puts it on. The music starts – a fusion of untracable traditional songs. Kat dances to it – a dance equally entrancing and unplacable in its origins as the music.
Suddenly, Kat hears a man clearing his throat. “Kat, are you finally back?”
Kat is startled, but composes herself. She switches the music off and turns to Posmeester, whose leather bag is slung around his shoulder. “Posmeester. Always a pleasure. Do you bring lekker news?”
“Unfortunately not,” sighs Posmeester. “A lot of letters came for you, from all kinds of strange places. I’ve been holding on to them so I could deliver them myself. Some look a little … dangerous.”
He retrieves strange-looking envelopes from his bag, holds them out to Kat.
Kat clicks her tongue and takes the envelopes confidently. She chuckles as she says: “No worries, Posmeester. I meet a lot of people on my travels, most more interested in me than I am in them. It’s probably just love-letters, soaked in whiskey and longing.”
Posmeester is not relieved. “I know mail, Kat. And I promise you, some of these are-”
He is interrupted by Kat, whose eyes go wide when she reaches one specific envelope.
“Oh no,” she says, with a rare quiver in her voice …