few leftovers from his meal of fish fingers, mashed potatoes, and green beans into the bin before waiting in line to rinse his plate then place it in the industrial-sized dishwasher.
An elbow nudged him in his back. “I hear we gotta sit through one of those ‘share your feelings’ sessions now.”
A man Ray judged to be at least twenty years his senior with missing front teeth and sporting a grey beard, wearing a blue-knitted beanie and matching uniform said to Ray. In the old days, Ray would have held out his hand and introduced himself, but these days, he felt no need to make friends.
Ray simply nodded.
He’d taken notice when Ben had informed them of the group therapy session after lunch. He wouldn’t admit it to the other inmates, but he was looking forward to it. He needed it.
A woman with dreadlocks hanging halfway down her back and skin as dark as ebony walked into the mess hall. She made her way to the front with a confident strut and a laptop bag in her left hand.
Ray looked to his feet in shame. He owed so many so much. Mere months ago, he’d have reacted like the total asshole he’d allowed himself to become. He’d have refused to be lectured by a black person; today, he couldn’t wait to share his trials with anyone willing to listen.
“Please bring your chairs and gather around.” She placed the bag on the podium then stood before it, beckoning to them with long, lithe arms jingling with bracelets and beads. Her very English accent caused most of the men to do a double take.
Ray stood and picked up his chair as Mr. Meintjies rushed in and headed straight for the woman. A look of concern was painted across his face. Ray didn’t move but watched as they had a soft, brisk exchange before he stormed back out.
“No, you don’t understand, I cannot accommodate this inmate.” Mina tried to explain to the woman on the other end of the line.
“But Miss van der Westhuizen, according to our contract, unless the inmate has re-offended or broken the terms of his parole you are obliged to keep him on until he completes the six-month term. Has he done this?”
“No.” Mina exhaled.
“Then I don’t understand what the issue is. You have never had a problem before.”
Mina’s wedge caught in a dip on her lawn an she angrily kicked off the shoes she’d worn to match her crème culottes and baby-blue cotton blouse. She combed frustrated fingers through her blow-dried shoulder-length hair, her signet ring catching on a few strands.
Eina!
She spun around on her heel and froze. It was one of the windier spring days on the west coast, and her garden lay green and wind-strewn around her. Ben Meintjies was making his way up the hill toward her. His eyes were dark, his frown serious.
Mina didn’t want him … or anyone, for that matter, to know of her past with Raymond Le Roux.
“Fine. I’ll make it work,” she blurted and hung up.
“What’s that about?” He nodded toward the phone in her hand as he came to stand beside her.
Ben Meintjies, an ex-prison guard turned drug smuggler turned rehabilitated farm manager, was built like a brick shithouse and had the personality to match.
“Nothing. How’s the new group settling in?” Mina clasped her hands behind her back.
“Fine, but I’m left wondering why my boss didn’t give me a heads up you weren’t leading this group’s counselling session.” The black of his gaze deepened.
“I have too much on my plate at the moment.” She slipped her phone into her back pocket.
Ben cocked his head considering her for a moment. She knew he didn’t buy it. She also knew the man held a flame for her, and had held it since the day she’d hired him. She did not need him knowing about her past with Raymond Le Roux.
“The inmates? Are they grasping all the new rules, and ideas around our farming methods?”
“Ja, they’re settling in okay. This bunch are a bit more chilled than our previous group. By the way, Drikus sent me a text. He’s settled in well with the conservation group in Augrabies.”
“That’s great news. It’s not easy for the older ones to change their ways,” Mina replied as they strolled toward her house.
“So, am I allowed to ask why you’re not presenting the therapy session? You’ve never missed one before.”
Mina swallowed hard. “ I told you, I’m really busy.” She didn’t look at him. “I’ve known Vestra since