The Satanic Mechanic by Sally Andrew

of things that had happened. Not a memory, a flashback – like the doctor said – as if it was actually happening. All over again.
    I was years away from Henk. I shouted and pushed him off me, my whole body shaking.
    Henk knelt beside the couch and pressed my head to his chest while I trembled against him.
    â€˜I’m so so-so-sorry,’ I said.
    â€˜It’s okay,’ he said. ‘It’s okay.’
    Slowly Fanie’s face dissolved, and I could see Henk again. And the kudu. It was still there. It walked a few steps closer. I saw the thin white lines on its grey coat as it looked down at us; its big ears were pricked up like it was worried.
    â€˜It’s okay,’ said Henk again.
    My shaking turned into tears. The kudu twitched its ears in a kind way, and I let the tears flow.
    The kudu gave a little snort and turned away. It flashed its white fluffy tail and trotted out of the front door.
    â€˜I’ll get you some brandy,’ Henk said, when the crying had stopped.
    He went to the kitchen and turned on the light. Everything was muchtoo bright. While he stirred a spoon of sugar into a small glass of brandy, I wriggled myself into a sitting position and adjusted my dress. I hid my panties under a cushion and put my shoes back on. I joined him at the kitchen table and put the lid back on the butternut soup. The kudu had not eaten much.
    I drank the brandy Henk gave me, and it made a hot line to my belly button. But I still shivered a little. I starting cleaning up, collecting the dishes. Henk joined in and did the washing up. Every now and then, he put a warm hand on my arm, but I did not respond.
    When it was all tidy, I made us coffee, and we sat down at the kitchen table. Henk sat opposite me, leant towards me and cleared his throat.
    â€˜I’m sorry,’ I said, ‘I’d hoped . . . I’ve been doing better, really—’
    â€˜It’s all right,’ he said.
    â€˜I see things,’ I said, running my hand across my eyes. ‘Things that aren’t there. Bad things from long ago, happening again right in front of me.’
    Henk nodded and opened his mouth to speak.
    â€˜I know, I know,’ I said. ‘I must get counselling.’
    â€˜I spoke to the woman at the police station who does crime-victim counselling. She says you can go see her anytime.’
    I took a big sip of my coffee although it was too hot for big sips. When I’d swallowed, I said, ‘Henk . . .’
    He held both hands around his coffee cup as he looked at me.
    â€˜I am okay after the kidnapping,’ I said.
    He frowned and shook his head, saying, ‘Maria . . .’
    â€˜Really I am. It’s not that which is causing the trouble . . .’
    Outside the frogs and toads were calling to each other, but in a careful way, as if they weren’t sure if there was a snake around.
    I sighed and said, ‘I didn’t want to bring him into our relationship. But I guess he is here anyway.’
    â€˜Who?’
    â€˜Fanie. My late husband, Fanie.’ I took a sip of my coffee.
    â€˜Are you still in love with him?’ asked Henk.
    I snorted some of the coffee out of my nose. ‘Sorry,’ I said, cleaning up. ‘No, no, it’s not that.’
    Henk sipped his coffee and waited for me to speak. He’s an experienced policeman. He knows how to interview a suspect.
    I heard the rustling of the leaves of the trees outside, then felt a cool breeze come in the window, and I shivered. I was the suspect. I could not tell him everything, but I had to tell him something in my defence.
    â€˜Fanie was not a good man. He was not good to me.’
    I didn’t want to tell him the whole truth about Fanie. To speak of Fanie to Henk felt like pouring dirty oil into a clear pool.
    â€˜Did he hurt you?’ said Henk.
    I nodded, looking at my coffee.
    â€˜Did he hit you?’ he asked, and as I glanced up at him I saw