Rowan rested her chin in the palm of her hand and didn’t pretend that she wasn’t listening. She was fascinated. What was the Farmyard? A brothel? A nightclub? A restaurant?
‘How am I going to explain to my seven-year-old grandson that he can’t have his party there? Are you going to explain?’
Or a children’s party venue.
After swearing very comprehensively, in both English and French, at the Farmyard’s representative, she snapped her mobile closed and rested her head on her folded arms.
Rowan felt her sympathy stirring and leaned over and touched her on the arm. ‘Hey.’
She might not be able to make emotional connections to places or things but she’d never had a problem talking to anyone, making casual connections that could last a minute, an hour, a day...
The blonde head lifted, the sunglasses slid down the pert nose and Rowan noticed tears in the dark eyes. ‘What’s the matter? Can I help?’
The woman shoved her glasses up her nose and sniffed. ‘Only if you can provide a venue for twenty-five kids in ten days’ time, complete with horses and a mini-quadbike track and paintball shooting. And an army tank cake.’
‘Pardon?’
‘I booked this exclusive children’s party venue for next Saturday and they double-booked it. I’m going to have to cancel the party and I am going to break my grand-baby’s heart. I’m Annie, by the way.’
‘Rowan,’ Rowan replied as her mind started to whirl. She knew of a place that had horses, a paddock suitable to make a mini-quadbike track, and haybales to make up a mock battle field for paintball-shooting. ‘What’s your budget?’
The Jane Fonda look-alike frowned at her and named a figure.
Rowan swallowed and wasn’t sure if she’d heard her properly. Who paid that sort of money for a kid’s party? Were these people nuts? He was seven and not the Sultan of Brunei’s kid!
Rowan stood up, picked up her plate and moved to the blonde’s table. ‘My name is Rowan, but my friends call me Ro...let’s chat.’
* * *
When Seb was twenty-two, Patch had told him that he was handing over the family’s property portfolio to Seb to manage and that he was going to open up a company in Simon’s Town, doing sea-kayaking tours.
Seb hadn’t believed him, but within six months he’d had the added responsibility of managing various warehouses, office blocks and houses around Cape Town, Patch had moved out of Awelfor and into a house in Simon’s Town and had started leading tourist tours showing off Signal Hill, Lions Head and Table Mountain from a sea perspective.
The company had taken off, and he’d opened a branch in Hermanus, but most days he still went out on the water and led a tour. For Seb, Patch’s Kayak Tours was just across the peninsula, and he often found himself driving to Simon’s Town, running along the promenade and joining his dad for an early-evening paddle.
Today it had been easy, paddling in the shelter of the harbour, and he’d soon pulled ahead of the group in the open sea, wanting to feel the strain in his arms and his shoulders. Skirting a navy striker ship waiting to dock, he headed south towards the world-famous Boulders Beach as he kept an eye out for whales. He flew past the huge rocks at Boulders, laughing at the penguin colony that stood on the beach contemplating hunting for food, and after a half-hour turned back and caught up with the sluggish tour.
Seb laughed again as two endangered Black Oyster Catchers pecked at Patch’s hat and with a pithy insult drew abreast with him. He cursed when his mobile jangled in its waterproof jacket. He put it to his ear and ignored Patch’s hiss of displeasure.
‘No mobiles on the water, Sebastian!’ Patch said loudly.
Recognising the number at Awelfor, Seb ignored Patch and quickly answered it. ‘Rowan, what’s wrong?’
‘Nothing. Well—um—I need to ask you a favour.’
Rowan’s voice sounded hesitant and his face cleared. Oh, this should be good. Another favour? She was racking them up!
‘What is it?’
‘May I hold a function here on Saturday?’
‘I thought you were broke! Do you have money to entertain?’
‘It’s not entertaining...exactly. I need a place to host a birthday party for some kids and I kind of suggested Awelfor.’
Seb thought that she had to be joking. ‘You kind of what?’
‘This lady will pay me a grotesque amount of money to organise a kid’s birthday party and I need a place to make a track for mini-quads and to set up a paintball course.’
Seb dropped his hand, looked at his phone and shook his head. ‘Are you nuts? I don’t want kids all over my property!’