Rachel Weeping Read Online Free Page B

belly as she applied the lotion to the rough scar she had been left with when they’d cut Maia out of her.
    Leaving the hot water in the tub, Rachel slipped into a pair of jeans, a shirt and a jersey, all hand-me-downs from Michelle. One of the perks of her job was that she was the same size as her employer, which meant that whenever Michelle cleared out her closet, Rachel had first claim on whatever was to be given away. Because of this she hadn’t had to buy clothes for herself in years, sending the money she might have spent on those items back to her parents.
    Rachel left the bathroom and, after checking on the porridge that bubbled lazily on the stove, she walked over to the bed and gently shook Maia.
    â€˜Come, girl, you can’t sleep in today.’
    Slowly the blanket started to move and Rachel watched as her daughter’s sleepy face emerged from the covers. She gave a big yawn and sat up in bed, keeping her eyes closed. She was on the verge of lying back down again when Rachel chuckled – she understood the temptation all too well – and shook her again.
    â€˜Go to the bath and get ready for school. We’ll have breakfast when I get back.’
    Her eyes still closed, Maia nodded. She climbed out of bed and started walking slowly towards the bathroom. Rachel looked out the window. It was going to be a beautiful day. The birds were chirping in the tree outside. She took a quick glance into the bathroom. Still sleepy eyed, Maia was already sitting in the tub and beginning to splash water over herself. She looked up and smiled at her mother.
    Rachel smiled back. ‘I’ll be back now,’ she told her. ‘Make sure you clean properly.’
    She opened the door and quickly stepped outside into the chilly driveway that separated her living quarters from the main property. The brickwork was covered in dew that reflected in the morning light and, as Rachel hurried past the double-door garage to the main house, she reminded herself that she would need to clean the windows sometime that week. In the middle of the driveway was a large oak tree. In summer its branches were covered in heavy green leaves that provided shade and a place to sit when she had her lunch outdoors. The morning sun was just beginning to peek through the gaps in the foliage.
    The first time Rachel had walked into the Jordaan house she had been left speechless and in awe. She had seen big houses in Maputo but they had been the homes of politicians and industry captains who had spent their lives building them up, not the ordinary homes of people who were the same age as her.
    She ascended the stone steps to the front entrance. The dark wooden door was surrounded by stone cladding that made it look welcoming and defensive at the same time. Rachel took out her set of keys. First she unlocked the metal security gate, then the door. Its hinges creaked as she pushed it open and entered the house. The air was filled with the beeping of the alarm system about to go off and she quickly punched the access code into the keypad on the wall next to the intercom.
    Her early starting time was part of her working arrangement with the Jordaans, one that allowed her to take Maia to school between 6.30 and 8.00, if she was willing to start the laundry cycle and get the dishes done before then.
    Rachel looked down to see Hugo, the strange looking dog the Jordaans had brought home last month, looking up at her with expectant eyes and a wagging tail. She shook her head and smiled at him, using her foot to keep him back while she turned on the lights to the entrance so that she could see her way down the dark passage. The wall in the passage was crowded with canvas prints of the Jordaans on their wedding day, sun-drenched images that showed younger versions of her employers in various poses that had been arranged to show their love for each other. Apparently they had hired one of the best photographers in South Africa to document their