Dressing with Care
I CAN’T help it – I’m looking for Sylvie whenever the creaking wooden gate is pushed open and another guest arrives.
Over the sea of heads of those who’ve already arrived for this special party and around the corner of the newly built conservatory where the security light shines into the snaking alley, I search for my old friend. I think: she’ll be here soon, rushing and apologising to everyone as she sweeps into the garden on a cloud of her favourite Gucci perfume.
The daylight’s already fading and with the disappearing sun, the warmth soon evaporates. I shiver. If this was the usual family braai I’d be wearing jeans and a warm fleece. But it’s a special occasion tonight and so I’ve dressed with care.
The air is coated by the braai’s aroma and all us guests stand in Tom and Sylvie’s long garden, chatting, drinking, smiling. Dancing in the slight
