Ray and the Cat Thing

By Masha du Toit

Reinette needs a break. Calling off the wedding was the right thing to do but now the rest of her life stretches before her, safe, predictable, empty and lonely. Unless she plans to be stuck in her mother's guest room forever, Reinette has to find a job and a new place to live.
Instead, the usually responsible Reinette signs up for a photography camp on a whim. Being out in the wilds, taking beautiful photographs, meeting new people…maybe this is what she's been yearning for.
Reinette doesn't realise that even the most careful young woman can be tempted away from the safety of the campfire. Deep in the forest a long-forgotten gate waits for her to unlock it, and discover the secrets beyond. Reinette will need all her reserves of courage and kindness to help the new, and rather magical, friends she's about to make.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Masha du Toit
• Release date: Jul 9, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223258476

Book preview

4

CHAPTER ONE

Reinette stopped herself from looking at her wristwatch. It had to be less than five minutes since the last time she’d checked, although it didn’t feel that way.

She should have known it would be like this. She’d started getting ready too soon. Did other people do this? When they went on a trip, have everything packed more than a day early?

She’d checked and double checked to make sure that nothing was forgotten.

Clothes, casual but neat. Enough T-shirts, long-sleeved tops, underwear, and socks, so she wouldn’t need to do any laundry.

Would it be possible to do laundry? She didn’t know.

A sleeping bag and a pillow. A book she’d read before and knew she liked, as well as another, back-up book in case it was needed. Phone charger. Toothbrush, toothpaste, small bottles of soaps and shampoos—

With some effort, she stopped herself from reviewing the mental list again.

The food was all packed, as well, everything on Bernie’s list. It was pointless opening the box again to make sure, she’d already done that. And of course, her camera, lenses, and all the accessories she thought she might need.

She ran her hand over her jeans pocket, feeling the shape of her phone through the fabric.

Leave it. The thought surprised her, but she would never do it, never leave her phone behind. Patrick would expect her to respond to messages, even now.

A car pulled up outside.

Reinette went to look out the window, but it was another false alarm. It was her mother’s neighbour, coming home from doing her weekly shop.

Reinette sighed, but stayed by the window. She might as well look out at the street.

Reitjie?

It was her mother, Anelle, hesitating in the doorway.

I thought… Would you like to take some crunchies? I baked more than enough yesterday.

Anelle held the packet, a dozen crunchies, wrapped in crinkly plastic fastened with a curly pink ribbon. They’re gluten-free. Mevrou Hanekom gave me the recipe.

Oh. Reinette took the packet. Thanks, Ma. Won’t you need it for church?

No, I baked more than enough. Anelle’s gaze moved to the bags and boxes in the hallway. You all ready to go? Got everything?

Yes. Reinette was not sure what to do with the packet. There was no space in the food boxes, and it would crush to crumbs in her backpack.

Anelle rubbed at a non-existent spot on the back of her hand, then smoothed her flowered skirt. She didn’t have to say anything. Reinette knew exactly what she was thinking.

What kind of daughter goes off on a camping trip with strangers, just like that? What kind of daughter cancels her wedding at the last moment? We should be choosing floral arrangements, discussing paper for the invitations, spending hours at Minty’s considering fabric swatches for the dress. I don’t know what I’m going to tell everyone. Especially Hannetjie and Daan. What must they be thinking?

Anelle touched Reinette’s arm. You remembered to pack sunblock?

Yes, Ma. Reinette tried to keep the irritation out of her voice. You gave me that spray-on stuff, remember?

Oh yes. Anelle nodded quickly. Although, these days they say that you shouldn’t put too much sunblock all the time in case you don’t get enough vitamin D, but I think that’s more in the northern hemisphere. With our harsh South African sun…

Anelle seemed to run out of words. She took a step back, and for a moment Reinette thought that the awkward encounter was over.

Listen, Reitjie, Anelle hesitated. There’s something— I meant to ask— Her lips moved, as if she were trying out what to say next. She didn’t look at Reinette.

Reinette tried to be patient. It would be some question about the cancelled wedding preparations, or maybe asking whether Reinette was really sure she could afford to go on a holiday when her job was so insecure?

He didn’t hurt you, did he?

It was a moment before the words made sense.

No, Ma, Reinette said. It wasn’t like that. I would have told you, if it was anything like that.

She wanted to reach out, to take her mother’s hand, but something held her back.

Oh. Good. Anelle bit her lip. I just—

A car hooted in the street outside, and a car door slammed.

This must be them. Reinette, relieved, turned to look.

A big Land Rover, the old fashioned, boxy kind, filled most of the narrow street. It had an enormous trailer. A grey-haired woman climbed down from the driver side and went to the gate.

Bernie! Reinette waved. I’ll be right down! Okay, she said to her mother. They’re here.

⌘⌘⌘⌘

Bernie helped Reinette carry her luggage down the stairs.

Don’t worry, I’ll put it in the trailer, Bernie said when they reached the car.

Hi there! A woman waved from the passenger seat. Reinette. Hi.

It was Marcella, Bernie’s partner.

Hello. Reinette returned the wave. She was surprised Marcella remembered her name. It had been several years since she’d last seen her.

Bernie swore as she wrestled with the lock on the trailer.

Do you need help, Bernie? Reinette asked.

Oh, leave her to it, said Marcella. She loves organising that trailer. Has to do it just this one particular way, and it’s no use getting involved. She smiled and pushed her wispy grey-blond hair out of her eyes. Come, get in so long. Get comfortable. Can I take that for you? She looked at the packet of crunchies. I’ve got a box here at my feet, lots of space.

Oh. Thanks. Reinette handed her the crunchies. They’re gluten-free.

Oh, really? Marcella tucked the packet away. You gluten-intolerant?

No. Reinette felt foolish. Why had she said that? Way to be awkward, Reinette.

Well, okay, said Marcella. They look good. You make them?

My mother did.

Hello. A dark-skinned girl with a cloud of wavy hair was smiling at Reinette from the back seat. I’m Jaylene.

I’m Clarke, said the young man next to her, a white guy, his nose and cheeks touched with sunburn. And this is Jonas. He indicated the man sitting next to him, tall, black, and serious.

Jonas nodded in silent greeting.

Hello, said Reinette.

There was a slightly awkward pause as Reinette wondered what to say next.

Well, come on, then, get in. Jaylene opened the door, and moved to make space.

Thanks. Reinette squeezed in next to her.

I haven’t seen you before. Clarke leaned past Jaylene, openly curious. You a new club member?

Um, no, said Reinette. Not new. I’ve been with the photography club for a few years, but I’ve never really— I stopped—

Reinette used to be more active when she was still at varsity, Marcella said, but life got busy once you graduated, right?

That’s right.

This wasn’t strictly true. Reinette had gone to a few beginner’s classes at the photography club in her first year, and nothing since then. But for some reason, she’d never let the membership lapse, always promising herself she’d pick it up again.

What do you do? said Clarke.

What’s this, twenty questions? Jaylene widened her eyes in comical exasperation. Give the poor girl a chance to catch her breath.

She doesn’t mind, Clarke said. You don’t mind, do you? He grinned at Reinette.

Of course, no problem. Reinette returned his smile and hoped he could not tell how flustered she felt. I’m a graphic designer.

Oh. Okay, that’s great.

Clarke’s tone was friendly, but Reinette gained the distinct impression that she’d not quite measured up to his expectations.

We’re all post-graduates, Clark continued. Jonas is doing his PhD, and me and Jaylene are still busy with our Masters. You know how it is. He laughed. Eternal students…

Reinette smiled politely, then noticed that her mother was still at the upstairs window, watching her.

The hatch of the trailer banged down, and a moment later Bernie opened the driver-side door. All done. She got in and fastened her seat-belt. Let’s get this show on the road.

The Land Rover lurched into motion.

Reinette waved at her mother. Then they were off, moving a bit too quickly for the narrow suburban road.

Reinette held onto the door handle to stop herself from swaying into Jaylene. After a few swift corners, they merged into Main Road. A taxi slammed braked hard and hooted.

Bernie! Marcella braced herself on the dashboard. Be careful.

"I am careful. Bernie sped through an intersection on the orange light. I’m always careful. You know I’m careful, Marcella."

Reinette tried not to wince as they manoeuvred through the mid-morning traffic.

That’s more like it, said Bernie a few minutes later, as she glanced over her shoulder and merged onto the freeway.

Do you have to go so fast? said Marcella.

The old girl likes it, said Bernie.

That seemed to be true. Out here on the freeway, the Land Rover settled into a contented, humming rattle.

Reinette released her grip on the door handle.

So tell us more about where we’re going. Jaylene sat forward, her arms on the back of Marcella’s seat. She glanced aside at Reinette. They wouldn’t tell us anything till you joined us.

Don’t like repeating myself, said Bernie.

It must be in the middle of nowhere, the amount of food we’re taking, said Jaylene.

It is. Marcella twisted around to face Jaylene. She was small enough that she could comfortably tuck her feet up underneath her. It’s called Laaste Bos. At least two hours from anywhere civilised, and you can’t do that last bit of road without a four-wheel-drive. No reception at all. Completely cut off, once you get there. No phones. No internet.

No reception?

Reinette’s hand automatically moved to her phone, but she did not take it out of her pocket. She imagined a list of messages from Patrick, going unanswered. He would think she was ignoring him.

Laaste Bos? said Clarke. Never heard of it. Is this your first trip, or have you already been there, Marcella?

Been there and back a few times. Fixing up the place and taking in supplies.

And it’s yours? said Jaylene. Your place? You own it?

All mine, said Bernie. It’s the most fantastic thing. She glanced over her shoulder, and changed lanes to get past a truck. Doug Meisch. You might have heard of him. Great-uncle’s sister-in-law’s father or something complicated like that. Photographer. I never met him.

He left the place to you, even though he never met you? said Clarke.

That’s right, said Bernie. He saw some of my photos apparently. Those daguerreotypes, remember them? Stroke of luck. Turns out old Doug was a real daguerreotype enthusiast. He wrote me some letters, asking about my methods. We corresponded for a while. I forgot about it until I heard that he wrote me into his will. Left his property to me. Still can’t believe it.

I think your relatives irritated him so much, you were the only option, said Marcella. "They were always complaining about him. That old hermit, sitting on his money…"

You might be onto something there, said Bernie. He didn’t want anything to do with them, that’s true. Lived at Laaste Bos, just him and his wife, until she died. And then he stayed on by himself. Didn’t allow any visitors, never hardly ever came out himself. Lived till deep into his nineties.

And he left his place to you? said Jaylene. That’s pretty cool.

Wait until you see it, said Bernie. It’s amazing.

Some of Bernie’s relatives are not quite so pleased about it, said Marcella. They think they had more of a right. But luckily, the will is very clear. All legal and above board.

Turns out there wasn’t much money at all, said Bernie. He left me his house, in a big piece of land. Wild land. Nobody’s been up there for years.

Place must be pretty derelict, said Clarke. If he’s been living alone there all this time.

I thought the same. Bernie clicked on the indicator, checked her blind spot, and changed lane again. But it’s in really good nick. Doug obviously looked after things. The biggest problem was the bridge leading to the property, and the last bit of road. Badly eroded. Couldn’t get in with any kind of car, four-wheel-drive or not.

You should have seen Bernie. Marcella chuckled. Got on a mission. You know what Bernie’s like when she gets the bit between her teeth. She cast a smiling glance at her lover. She figured out that the bridge was on Parks Board land, and got them to fix it. Got the road graded, too. It was amazing.

I honestly didn’t think they’d do it, said Bernie, but once I figured out who to talk to, it came together pretty quick. They fixed the bridge, and graded quite a bit of the road on the Laaste Bos side as well, even though they really didn’t have to.

Those were decent guys, said Marcella. I liked them.

Bernie grunted in agreement. They were good guys. So now you can at least get into the place. In a way, it’s been a good thing that the road was inaccessible for so long. It’s totally off the beaten track. Nobody’s gone and developed it. Turned it into a bed-and-breakfast, like everything else is these days.

And now it’s a photography club destination, said Clarke. What I want to know, is what we’re going to be doing there? Taking pictures of trees?

The others all laughed, and Reinette could tell this was part of some long-standing joke.

Jaylene caught Reinette’s eye. Clarke doesn’t go in for nature photography, she explained. He’s all about Urban Blight. If it doesn’t have paint peeling off it, or rust, or a needle in its vein, he’s not interested.

Speak for yourself. Clarke scoffed. There won’t be any wrinkled grannies to pose for you with their wedding pictures.

Jaylene stuck her tongue out at him, but she didn’t seem to take offence.

What are you into? Clarke said to Reinette. Photography-wise, I mean?

Reinette felt her cheeks grow warm. I’m still figuring that out.

Good answer. Bernie smiled at Reinette in the rear-view mirror. People are too quick to categorise themselves.

Shouldn’t you be looking for the turn-off? said Marcella.

Hmm? Not for a while yet, said Bernie. Could you check there in the cubby for my shades? It’s quite glarey today.

Reinette looked at the landscape rushing past. They’d left the last of the suburbs behind, and were out in the farmlands. She saw a few horses grazing in a small, fenced plot, and a herd of sheep. Occasionally, they passed a sign advertising a farm stall.

Then she must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew was the click-click-click of an indicator and they had turned off the freeway.

Rest stop, Marcella announced. Anyone need to pee?

They drew in at a petrol station, and everyone piled out of the car.

Which way are the toilets? asked Jaylene. Oh. There they are.

Reinette followed her.

The petrol station boasted a few pumps, a fast-food restaurant, and a tiny convenience store. Reinette got herself a box of fruit juice at the store, and some crisps. She ended up in the queue behind Clarke and Jaylene, who were buying an amazing number of sweets, chocolates, and condoms.

He’s got a sweet tooth, Jaylene told Reinette, as if confiding a secret.

Indeed, I do. Clarke pretended to bite Jaylene’s ear, all the while grinning at Reinette.

Reinette smiled politely, and wondered if they thought she was a prude. People often did. It was one of the things Patrick’s friends liked to tease her about, though Patrick never did.

Patrick never teased her about anything.

Bernie had pulled up next to one of the pumps and was chatting to the petrol attendants.

Jonas was already in his seat, and Reinette waited for Jaylene and Clarke to get in before getting back in herself. There was something slightly intimidating about the silent Jonas, and she didn’t feel quite up to sitting right next to him.

Bernie’s accent had changed. She sounded a good deal more Cape Flats when talking to the petrol attendant.

The others joined them, Bernie paid for the petrol, and soon they were on the road again.

As they pulled back onto the freeway, Clarke said, You’re a real chameleon, Bernie. You went all Cape Coloured, talking to that guy.

Well, I am mos coloured. Bernie leaned forward to check for approaching traffic before she accelerated onto the freeway. You got a problem with that, whitey?

No. Clarke laughed. I think it’s cool.

Bernie, said Reinette. This place we’re going, there’s no phone reception?

That’s right, said Bernie. Totally cut off.

Pure heaven. Marcella tucked her feet up on the dashboard.

Don’t do that, said Bernie, but Marcella just settled herself more comfortably.

Reinette drew her phone from her pocket and opened a text to Patrick. She stared at the blank message box for a few seconds, then started to type.

going out of town to a place that doesn’t have reception so

She deleted the words, closed the message thread, and opened a new one to her mother.

where we’re going has no phone reception so I wont be able to send you messages. Don’t worry if you don’t hear from me for a few days. Love xxx

She pictured her mother. Where would she be? On her couch watching TV, or maybe at the kitchen table with a cup of tea. The phone would ping, and she’d earnestly dig it out of her handbag.

She always kept her phone in her handbag.

Their last conversation floated into Reinette’s memory. That concerned, pained tone in her mother’s voice.

He didn’t hurt you, did he?

What had prompted her to ask? Patrick had never hurt her. Not with violence, not even with words. No—what was the term people used—? No, emotional abuse.

Reinette hunched her shoulders and rubbed her upper arms.

No. Patrick did not do anything anyone would have recognised as abuse. It was just—

Reinette drew a breath then let it out, trying to relax.

How many times she’d tried to explain this to herself, and still she couldn’t make sense of it. Patrick was not abusive, but he made her unlike herself, somehow. Not on purpose. There was no malice in it. Reinette was sure that he had no idea how she felt. In fact, the one time she’d tried to explain how she felt, he’d looked at her as if she was talking a foreign language.

They’d spent so many years together. Quiet, uneventful, safe years. She’d told herself, so many times, how lucky she was.

Then one day, Reinette found that when she pictured her future with Patrick, she saw herself getting smaller and smaller till she disappeared with a tiny, silent pop.

But why! That’s what everyone had said, when she broke off the engagement. You’ve been together since high school. You guys are the best couple. He’s perfect. You’re perfect together.

And it was true. Reinette had to admit. Patrick was perfect. He was steady, and serious, hard-working, ambitious. Good looking. Clever, too. He never cheated on her. She couldn’t imagine him being unfaithful.

Perfect husband material.

He even did his share of the domestic chores. Washing dishes, taking the rubbish out without being nagged, never leaving wet towels or dirty clothing lying around. In fact, he was a good deal neater than she was herself.

He was a decent guy through and through. All her friends said so. Although, now, it turned out they were not so much her friends, as Patrick’s friends.

Funny how that worked out.

She rubbed her finger where until so recently she’d worn the engagement ring. The perfect ring, a beautiful emerald in a gold setting.

The look on his face, when she returned it. But she had to return it, didn’t she? She could hardly keep it.

"If you could only give me one rational reason."

That’s what he’d said.

Reinette let out a shaky breath, and shook her head a little, irritated with herself. Why was she thinking about all that again? The whole point of this trip was to get away.

Something wrong? said Jaylene. You feeling car sick?

Oh, no, I’m fine. Reinette tried to smile. Just a bit tired.

You sure? Fine if you want to open the window a bit, said Jaylene. That always makes me feel better if I’m feeling nauseous.

Reinette smiled and rolled open the window, just a bit, and enjoyed the feel of the breeze in her hair.