heart. An increased rate. He had risen sometime after one and fetched the poem in the spare bedroom, under the William Gibson on a pile of paperbacks.
Taste me, touch me, take me . . .
He had to lie on his back and concentrate on other things. His work. De Wit. What was de Wits agenda? Eventually sleep had overtaken him.
But he felt the tiredness in the morning. After two lengths of breaststroke he was finished.
* * *
De Wit came to Jouberts office, a green file in his hand. Joubert was on the phone to Pretoria.
De Wit knocked on the doorpost and waited outside. Joubert wondered why he didnt come in but finished his call. Then de Wit walked in. He had a smile on his face again. Uncomfortable, Joubert stood up.
Sit down, Captain. I dont want to keep you from your work. Is Pretoria giving you problems?
No, Colonel. I . . . They havent sent the ballistics report yet. About the Tokarev. I was chasing them.
May I sit down?
Of course, Colonel. Why didnt he simply sit down?
I want to discuss your physical health today, Captain. Joubert understood the smile. It was one of triumph, he realized.
De Wit opened the green file. Ive received your medical report. He looked Joubert in the eye. Captain, there are matters here you have to solve for yourself. I have no right to speak to you about your high cholesterol or your smoking habits. But I have the right to discuss your fitness. This report states that youre fifteen kilograms overweight. You dont have as many problems as some of your colleagues but its still fifteen kilos too many. And the doctor considers you to be seriously unfit.
De Wit closed the green file.
I dont want to be unreasonable. The doctor says five kilograms every six months is not unreasonable. Shall we give you until this time next year, Captain? To monitor the progress? What do you think?
Joubert was annoyed by the mans superior tone of voice, by his attitude of feigned friendliness. We can make it six months, Colonel.
Because de Wit didnt know he had started swimming again. Joubert experienced a feeling of purpose. The long muscles of his legs and arms were pleasantly tired after the mornings swim. He knew he could keep it up. He would rub old Two Noses face in it.
We can make it six months. Definitely.
De Wit was still wearing the small smile, almost a grimace. Its your choice, Captain. Im impressed by your determination. Well make a note of it.
He opened the green file again.
The day took on its usual shape. He drove out to Crossroads. The mutilated body of a baby. Ritual murder. The radio on his hip scratched and buzzed and called him to Simons Town. The owner of a shop selling military artifacts had been shot with an AK. The splashes of blood and brains looked depressingly apt on an American army steel helmet, a Japanese officers sword, and a captains cap from a sunken U-boat.
In the afternoon he was five minutes late for his appointment with the dietitian. He stopped in the parking area of the clinic. The woman was waiting for him.
She wasnt pretty but she was thin. Her fair hair curled about her head but her nose was crooked, her mouth small and humorless.
She shook her head in disbelief when Joubert told her about his eating habits. She used flash cards and posters to explain about fatty acids saturated and unsaturated about fiber and bran, animal fats and vegetable fats, calories, vitamins, minerals, and balance.
He shook his head and said that he lived alone. His stomach contracted when he thought about Yvonne Stoffberg, who would be waiting in his house that evening, but he told the dietitian that he couldnt cook, that he didnt have the time to maintain a healthy diet.
She asked him whether he had the time for a heart
Taste me, touch me, take me . . .
He had to lie on his back and concentrate on other things. His work. De Wit. What was de Wits agenda? Eventually sleep had overtaken him.
But he felt the tiredness in the morning. After two lengths of breaststroke he was finished.
* * *
De Wit came to Jouberts office, a green file in his hand. Joubert was on the phone to Pretoria.
De Wit knocked on the doorpost and waited outside. Joubert wondered why he didnt come in but finished his call. Then de Wit walked in. He had a smile on his face again. Uncomfortable, Joubert stood up.
Sit down, Captain. I dont want to keep you from your work. Is Pretoria giving you problems?
No, Colonel. I . . . They havent sent the ballistics report yet. About the Tokarev. I was chasing them.
May I sit down?
Of course, Colonel. Why didnt he simply sit down?
I want to discuss your physical health today, Captain. Joubert understood the smile. It was one of triumph, he realized.
De Wit opened the green file. Ive received your medical report. He looked Joubert in the eye. Captain, there are matters here you have to solve for yourself. I have no right to speak to you about your high cholesterol or your smoking habits. But I have the right to discuss your fitness. This report states that youre fifteen kilograms overweight. You dont have as many problems as some of your colleagues but its still fifteen kilos too many. And the doctor considers you to be seriously unfit.
De Wit closed the green file.
I dont want to be unreasonable. The doctor says five kilograms every six months is not unreasonable. Shall we give you until this time next year, Captain? To monitor the progress? What do you think?
Joubert was annoyed by the mans superior tone of voice, by his attitude of feigned friendliness. We can make it six months, Colonel.
Because de Wit didnt know he had started swimming again. Joubert experienced a feeling of purpose. The long muscles of his legs and arms were pleasantly tired after the mornings swim. He knew he could keep it up. He would rub old Two Noses face in it.
We can make it six months. Definitely.
De Wit was still wearing the small smile, almost a grimace. Its your choice, Captain. Im impressed by your determination. Well make a note of it.
He opened the green file again.
The day took on its usual shape. He drove out to Crossroads. The mutilated body of a baby. Ritual murder. The radio on his hip scratched and buzzed and called him to Simons Town. The owner of a shop selling military artifacts had been shot with an AK. The splashes of blood and brains looked depressingly apt on an American army steel helmet, a Japanese officers sword, and a captains cap from a sunken U-boat.
In the afternoon he was five minutes late for his appointment with the dietitian. He stopped in the parking area of the clinic. The woman was waiting for him.
She wasnt pretty but she was thin. Her fair hair curled about her head but her nose was crooked, her mouth small and humorless.
She shook her head in disbelief when Joubert told her about his eating habits. She used flash cards and posters to explain about fatty acids saturated and unsaturated about fiber and bran, animal fats and vegetable fats, calories, vitamins, minerals, and balance.
He shook his head and said that he lived alone. His stomach contracted when he thought about Yvonne Stoffberg, who would be waiting in his house that evening, but he told the dietitian that he couldnt cook, that he didnt have the time to maintain a healthy diet.
She asked him whether he had the time for a heart
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