Tony dropped us off outside the newspaper offices. We walked up a couple of flights of stairs and found ourselves in the middle of a typically busy newsroom. Eleanor’s desk was right in the middle of the mayhem. Phones were ringing non-stop and messengers were dashing from desk to desk delivering notes and envelopes. It was exactly how you’d expect a busy city newsroom to be.
Eleanor had a big smile on her face when she saw us and waved us over to her desk. Her bright red hair was tied up in double pony tails on either side of her head, just like Pippi Longstocking. She was probably in her mid-30’s. She wore no wedding ring.
“Hi!” she said and invited us to sit on a couple of decrepit looking visitors chairs in front of her desk (which itself was covered in piles and piles of newspapers and magazines). There was a divider between her desk and the one next to it that doubled as a pin board. On it there was a small poster with a photo of a bearded black man, his fist raised in a power salute. Underneath the photo was a caption that said End Censorship Now.
“Give me a minute to try and find one of the photographers to come through and then we can get a nice photo of the two of you to go with the story.”
“You’re going to take the photo in here?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“No, no. We can walk across to the park and maybe sit you on a bench there. It’s nice out today.”
“And you’re sure you can get this story printed in tonight’s paper?” Jessie asked.
“Absolutely. We’ll hold the story for the late edition which comes off the press at about 3pm. It’s the one that most people get on the way home from work. Thank you so much for doing this, guys. It’s a big scoop for me.” she said as she picked up her phone and pressed three numbers on the keypad.
“Jake, who’s available to do a quick shoot for me in the park? I need the shot processed in 2 hours or less, please.” she said, tapping a chewed up red and black pencil against her teeth as she waited for a response.
I felt like asking her how she had gotten my home address but then I suppose these journalists wouldn’t have an edge if they gave up their sources, so I didn’t ask. What I did ask her was who the man in the poster on her pin board was.
“That’s Nelson Mandela.” she said, matter-of-factly. I had never seen a photo of the man before. “If the police were to come in here they’d probably arrest me for having that on display.” Mandela was persona non grata in South Africa and serving a life sentence for terrorism and attempted insurrection.
Jessie looked at me and I sensed she was having second thoughts about this whole newspaper deal. Was it worth it to get your photo in the paper as a massive jackpot winner along with all the unwanted attention it would undoubtedly bring, or just wait a couple of weeks before buying her Dad a car that would still be there when her winnings cheque cleared?
“You still want to go ahead?” I asked her.
She didn’t say anything but shrugged her shoulders and nodded slowly. I reached out and held her hand. She smiled at me.
“Ya, let’s just do it. I want to get that car tomorrow. Daddy deserves something good after everything he’s been through.”
Eleanor spoke a couple of inaudible words into her phone and then set it down, returning her attention to us.
“Okay, we’ve got Big Mike coming down to do your shots in a little while, but in the meantime let’s go into one of the interview rooms and you can tell me the story of how you bagged the biggest sweepstakes ever at the casino.”
She listened intently as we told her the story of our spur of the moment trip down the coast on Sunday and how it had resulted in the biggest lucky break anyone could ever hope for. She asked us about our relationship, what we intended to do with the winnings and if we were going to donate any of it to charity. I said I hadn’t thought about any of that yet, but we would definitely be going on a holiday for a while. Jessie just nodded along as I did most of the talking.
Big Mike the photographer appeared in the door of the interview room. It wasn’t hard to see how he got his nickname. We walked with him to the park down the street and he took a few photos of us sitting together on a bench, being cozy, making cheesy smiles. Then he left us there saying that if he didn’t get the film processed in the next 30 minutes he’d be in for it with the editors and Eleanor.
We sat on the bench for a little while longer after he left, neither of us wanting to say much because we knew that the moment that newspaper came out our lives would never be the same again. Eventually we got up and walked back to the main street.
“Oh, I forgot to show you the car I want to get, Babe.” I said, remembering that I had left Paul the BMW salesman hanging. “But I’m going to wait until we get a new place because I think I need to keep this one parked in a garage somewhere. It’s too fancy to be parked on the street.”
“Oh yes, we also have an appointment to see some flats later today – I keep forgetting.” she said. “Are you hungry? I am absolutely starving.”
“I could eat. What do you feel like?”
“I have a hankering for a toasted chicken and mayo sandwich.”
“Cool, I know a great place I bet you haven’t heard of. They do amazing open sandwiches.” I led her by the hand to one of the lesser known cafés I sometimes got my lunch from. It was off the beaten track up a flight of stairs and down one of the arcades that joined the two main streets of the central business district. We took up a table near the entrance.
“Gee, I had no idea that this place was here.” said Jessie, her head swivelling around to take it all in. “Looks very plush.”
“They cater for executives, mostly lawyers, bankers and advertising people eat here. It’s a bit over-priced, but I think that’s why they like it – keeps the street riff raff out. Like all those hairdressers and store keepers.” I joked. Jessie grinned and raised an open palm as if to smack me one.
“I hope we haven’t made a mistake by agreeing to go in the paper,” she said. “but I really want that car tomorrow.”
“I think it will be okay. The attention will die down after a few weeks and then we can go on living our lives. Just expect to be hounded by people looking for handouts.”
“That’s the thing. I don’t know how to say no!” she said.
“So what I am thinking is we need to find a new place to live as soon as possible. Something with good security where nobody can just walk in off the street. Once we have that part sorted most of the problems will go away. But also, we should get away for a few weeks, go see some of the world, let these folks forget about us for a while.”
“Yes! Count me in!” she said, her eyes lighting up.
“I wouldn’t ever count you out, schweetheart. Do you have a passport?”
“Don’t be silly. What would I be doing with one of those?”
She had a point. Travel outside of the country was not something we could easily do as South Africans. It wasn’t impossible, but there was a lot of red tape involved, especially since the government had implemented the state of emergency prohibiting any reporting on the security situation inside the country.
We ate our sandwiches and then headed back to the BMW dealership where Paul greeted me with a huge smile.
“You must be the lovely Jessie.” he said, thrusting out his hand to greet her. She shook it.
“Well Daniel, while you were gone I had a chat with the dealer principal and he’s very excited that you are interested in our cars. He can make you a super nice deal on the 325iS if you take the red one we have on the showroom floor. He said it could be had for 20% off if you are agreeable to doing a little PR endorsement for us.”
“That sounds like a good deal, Paul. I’m not so sure about the PR stuff. What’s that involve?”
“It’s probably best if you spoke with him about it, but usually what we do is ask for a voice over that they would use on radio ads, or maybe even something visual, like a print ad with a photo.”
“I’d have to think about that, Paul. Right now I just want to show Jessie the car and if there is any chance of taking it for a test drive that would be awesome.”
“I still have the keys on my desk. I will just need you to fill out a form for insurance purposes and then we can take her out for a burn. Be right back.” he said, turning robot-like on his heels again to go fetch the keys.
Jessie was smiling while I showed her around the exterior of the car.
“Wow, that is a sexy car!” she said, holding me close. “You have to get it, Danny.”
“And what about your car?” I asked. “What are we going to get for you to go zooting around in?”
“Hmmm…” she purred. “Why can’t we both have a car like this? You can have this red one and I will get a different colour.”
“Oh ya? What colour?”
“Do they have it in pink?”
I laughed. “I think there’s an unwritten law against pink BMW’s. But we can ask Paul.”
Just then he returned with his piece of paper, a pen and a key fob. I scrawled my signature on the form and the three of us got inside the little red devil. It was a manual transmission which was great.
We drove through the city and Paul said I should head north on the highway. The car was unlike anything I had ever driven before (and I had driven many cars given my Dad’s profession). It just felt so solid and perfectly balanced on the road. Paul told me to put my foot down when there was a bit of clear road ahead of us and drop a gear. It was astonishingly powerful, immediately responsive. Jessie’s smile was unwavering.
“You have to buy this car, Babe.” she said. “If you don’t I will! I can’t wait to go on a road trip with you and this this machine.”
“The lady hath spoken, Daniel.” chuckled Paul from the back seat, with his long legs almost folded over his ears.
“Oh, I think I’m sold.” I said. “I’ve never driven anything like this before. It just feels right.”
“Yep. It certainly does.” he replied. “Turn on the radio, this car has some of the best sound I have ever heard.”
I turned on the radio and we heard a familiar song by Peter Gabriel playing.
“Turn it up!” said Paul. “I love this song.”
We thumped along to the sound of Sledgehammer. The sound was incredible.
Back at the dealership we sat down at Paul’s desk and went over the numbers. If I agreed to do a few radio spots and a print ad they would give me the red demo car at 20% off. I said that I would think about that, but I didn’t really need to ask for a discount. However, what options could they give Jessie if she was to buy one too?
Forty five minutes later we had both bought BMW’s, mine the red one on the show floor and Jessie was getting a white one that would have to come from another BMW dealership. They were fine with post dated cheques because we would only take delivery of our cars once we had found our new home. That was the next stop on our very busy Tuesday.
The estate agent’s name was Rhonda and she was as ebullient as her name suggested. Mid- forties, slim, trim and full of more beans than you’ll get at a cowboy convention. We met her at her agency’s offices on the north end frontline. As one of the top performing agents for the beachfront she had the inside track on all the best deals that were on the market or coming onto the market. She knew everyone and everyone knew her. Especially because she had the most outrageously glamorous way of dressing. And she drove a pink Mercedes. Where she got it who knew, but when Jessie saw it she was like a jack-in-the-box.
“Oh my god! Look at this car, Danny! It’s pinnnnnk!” she shrieked.
Rhonda stood grinning as she opened the doors for her new potential clients, Jessie taking the front passenger seat with me relegated to the back.
“You like this, Jessie?” Rhonda asked.
“Oh, like you can’t believe. I absolutely love pink things. We just bought BMW’s though and they couldn’t get me a pink one. Where on earth did you find a pink Mercedes?”
“It was custom sprayed for me, definitely not from the factory. I think Mercedes in Germany would have conniptions if they saw this car. I can put you in touch with the spray shop who did the re-spraying if you’d like.” explained Rhonda.
“Oh no, please no.” I said from behind. “We can’t have two pink German cars in the same city. The time space continuum will implode.” The ladies just ignored me.
“Okay you lucky young people, I am going to show you three different apartments this afternoon. None of them are occupied at the moment, but they are all front line units. The one we are going to look at first is in a brand new building which I am sure you would have seen being constructed over the past few years. The unit is a 3 bedroom, triple story penthouse, dead central on the frontline. It is quite magnificent, but…” she paused before delivering the kicker. “It’s very expensive at 300k.” Neither Jessie or I said anything, we just looked at each other and smiled. We could afford that, no sweat. It was less than 10% of what we had won.
“Shall we go have a look at that one first?” she asked.
“Are we there yet?” said Jessie. She was suddenly in a very playful mood. All the day’s activities had set her abuzz.
“We will be in just a few minutes.” said Rhonda, giving the Mercedes some acceleration.
The building was known as The Sentinel because it stood twenty stories high and was painted a brilliant white. You could see it from just about every point on the beachfront, north to south. It stood out amongst all the other buildings that had been constructed along this frontline between the 1950’s and the 1970’s. The windows were all tinted blue and it was the most modern looking residential building in the entire city.
The foyer felt like a fancy hotel lobby, marble everywhere with tasteful mosaic inlays on the wall. One of the mosaics above the lifts mimicked the shape of the beachfront skyline as seen from the ocean. A fountain right in the middle of the triple height space shot up at least three metres and cascaded down into a white rock formation that looked like a mountain range. It might have been the Drakensberg but I wouldn’t have known.
Over to one side of this outlandish foyer was a concierge desk where a security clerk dressed in a very smart navy suit asked us to sign into the building. Rhonda was waxing lyrical about the prestige of having an apartment at this address. It was the pinnacle of living on the beachfront. She always used the word “apartment” instead of flat. Very cosmopolitan.
“To get into your penthouse you have to unlock the floor from inside the lift, otherwise it won’t go up all the way.” she said, demonstrating by touching a small round disk to the keypad and then pressing the circular button labelled PH, just above the number 18. The button lit up blue and we were on our way upwards.
Unlike the lifts that we grew up with in the old residential buildings on the south end, there were no heavy wooden doors that you had to physically pull open to get in and out. In this building two aluminium door panels just swooshed open and you entered or exited effortlessly.
“It’s like being in the Star Trek Enterprise.” I said. The ladies giggled as we ascended silently to the PH level.
“Danny might spend more time in the lift than in the penthouse. He’s a science fiction nut.” said Jessie.
“What if I got one of those Star Trek outfits and pretended to be the lift operator? I’d get a name badge with Scotty printed on it too.” This cracked them up.
There was a gentle chime as the lift reached PH and the doors whooshed open, revealing a marbled floor and walnut panelled wall directly in front of us. To the left was a giant window facing West with a spectacular view of the hills surrounding the city. To the right was a double leaf walnut door with cast iron inlays. Rhonda was opening one of them with a key she had fished out of her bag. We heard the deadbolt click and she pushed open the massive door.
“Welcome to the Penthouse at The Sentinel!” she exclaimed, spreading her arms outward theatrically. In front of us, down three marble steps that ran the width of the room was something I’d never imagined possible.
The marble floor from the lifts carried on inside the penthouse for a couple of metres. Three steps down was the lounge, with a deep pile, wall to wall carpet. One side of the wall had a massive built in wall unit made out of the same walnut as the front door. I could imagine putting a giant TV in there, along with loads of hard cover books and objects d’art. On the other side of the room was a beautiful staircase leading up to a mezzanine level. There was a walkway between the two sides of the bedroom level, close to a massive double volume window that overlooked the ocean. Instead of wooden bannisters there were glass panels to stop you from falling into the living room. It was the most modern thing I had ever seen in my life.
“Wow!” we both said in unison. It was breathtaking.
“Come in, let me show you around Las Grande Vista.” said Rhonda. “So this is the main living room, as you can already tell. There is a wet bar around this side facing the ocean with floor to ceiling glass. The bar is clad in the same marble you will find throughout the building and there are recessed lights everywhere. You also don’t need curtains up here because there are built in hidden venetian blinds tucked into those pelmets that run around the entire ceiling. And they are all motorised! Watch this.” She opened a small hatch in the wall revealing a series of switches. She pressed one of them and there was a feint whirring sound as white slatted blinds began descending out of the recessed ceiling. “You can also set the angle of the slats from this panel for a complete block out.” she said.
“Holy shit.” I mumbled. Jessie whistled.
“There is no balcony on this level but wait until you get upstairs.” Rhonda went on. “But before we head upstairs come and have a look on the north side of this level.” We followed her to the front of the T shaped room and turned left. “Look at your fabulous kitchen. Do either of you cook?”
Jessie looked at me and we both chuckled when she said “I make a killer beans on toast.”
“And I know how to order pizza on the phone.” I added. Rhonda smiled.
She walked us to the other side of the front of the bottom level where there was space for an enormous dining table (at least a 12 seater would fit in there) and an entirely open plan kitchen running all the length to the back of the penthouse, near where we’d entered. Again, marble everywhere with the same walnut used on the cabinets. The entire kitchen was about 15 to 20 metres long including the breakfast area overlooking the beachfront. There were windows above the counter all the way along the north side of the room, presenting the most amazing views all up the coast right from the kitchen.
“You want to see this place at night.” said Rhonda. “It’s just spectacular.”
“It’s spectacular enough during the day.” I said.
Jessie was opening cupboards in the kitchen. “Danny, there’s a fridge inside this cupboard!”
“You’re kidding?”
“No, come check it out.” she said.
I went over to her and watched her open the door to an enormous double door fridge. One with lights that worked.
“Incredible. There’s even a place for you to stack up your cool drink cans or beers.”
Rhonda took us back to the entrance where we found another walnut door behind which was a storeroom that also doubled as a laundry. On the other side of the entrance landing was a staircase leading to the roof top. We followed her up and found ourselves in an outdoor garden, twenty floors up. All around the rooftop were semi-circular portal like cutouts, big enough to not obstruct you from viewing the entire city, north to south, east to west, but not scary to look through if you were afraid of heights. The wall came up to about mid chest height for me so I felt fairly safe looking out.
“This is too much.” said Jessie. She was holding her hands to her face, totally mesmerised by what we were seeing. “Look! You can even see my building down there.” she said, pointing south as we both peered out of one of the portals.
“I think I am having sensory overload.” I said. “This is way, way, way beyond what I was expecting, Rhonda. What are the monthly levies for this place?”
She went into her bag again and pulled out a leather bound notebook, flipped through it and put on her elegant (and pink) reading glasses.
“You’re looking at about a grand a month, all included.” she said.
I let out a wheeze. “That’s like five times what I currently pay in rent.”
“Oh but dahling, you can afford it now.” said Rhonda in her hoity-toity manner. “The interest on your winnings could afford it several times over every month.”
This was true.
The reality of how things were about to change for us was beginning to hit home in a visceral way for me. I felt myself almost vibrating with excitement. We decided to pass on viewing the other two places and got Rhonda to drop us off in front of my block of flats. It was almost 5pm when we opened the front door. We were exhausted.
“I’m having some kind of mental brain warp.” Jessie said, resting her head on my chest as we lay on the bed. “We’re just two kids from the poor side of town. How the hell did we get so lucky?”
“I wish I could say, Babe. But I can tell you that I am not sad about any of it. I’ve always felt that life owed me a little bit more than what I’ve experienced so far. We’re all set now, you know? If we buy that penthouse together it would be an amazing way to set ourselves up for the future. I think that property is going to climb in value big time over the next few years. If we bought a bunch of other smaller properties we would be able to live on the rental income for life and we’ll never have to work again.”
“Yes, I agree. That place is just amazing. We’d be like the King and Queen of the frontline living there.”
We lay quietly for a while, Jessie’s hair cascading over my shoulder, my hand resting on her back. Were we rushing into too many things? Did we even know each other well enough to consider a future together after only being close for just a few weeks? These were all questions floating around my head.
“Do you think having all this money will ruin us?” Jessie asked, her voice softer than usual.
“I really hope it doesn’t.” I said. “I hope it does the opposite. I hope it makes us the strongest couple ever.”
She tilted her head up toward mine and kissed me tenderly on the cheek.
“So do I, love. I honestly believe that some things are just meant to be and for the two of us to have joined like this and been blessed with such a massive windfall so soon has to mean something in the greater scheme of how the universe works.”
We fell asleep like that, our minds fixed on a beautiful future together.
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