Folly, by Jassy Mackenzie

Folly, by Jassy Mackenzie. Random House Struik Umuzi. Cape Town, South Africa 2013. ISBN 9781415203910 / ISBN 978-1-4152-0391-0

Vivacious and witty, Jassy Mackenzie's novel Folly takes a look at theissues that face us all as the long-term effects of our youthful mistakes become nauseatingly apparent.

Jassy Mackenzie  

The white Toyota Camry was waiting outside the gate when I arrived home on a sweltering afternoon in late January. It was the third day of the heat wave that had sent temperatures rocketing into the thirties all over Gauteng, withering gardens and melting tarmac and sparking dire warnings from the Water Board about the unseasonably low levels of water in the Vaal Dam. The driver's window was wound all the way down so I could see the car had only one occupant - a slender Indian man. As soon as he saw my Renault turn down the long, sand panhandle he scrambled out, brushed at his trousers as if removing evidence of crumbs, and pushed a pair of dark glasses up onto his head. So inoffensive-looking was he, that, despite the fact that this was a city where strangers were almost always treated with suspicion, I nursed my car over the drainage hump in the driveway, opened my door (the electric windows had stopped working in November), leaned out and asked if I could help. To be honest, I'd thought he was probably lost. I live in a semi-rural area where signposted road names are more the exception than the rule, and by some strange law of physics, or perhaps the suburban tidal system, a lot of the drivers who do get lost end up making their way down Bottlebrush Avenue, where I live. He reached back into his car and pulled out a blue cardboard folder and then walked over to me. It was his demeanour more than anything else, plus the fact he was carrying that official-looking folder, that made me realise - with a surprising thrill of fear - that his presence signalled bad news. 'Mrs Caine?' His voice was polite and respectful, but it was the use of my name that made my stomach clench. 'Yes, that's me,'I said. Abruptly, the peanut-butter sandwich I'd had for lunch turned into acid and began eating away at my innards. A trickle of sweat inched its way between my breasts, which were crammed into a bra that had been the right size a year ago. Suddenly, my vehicle felt claustrophobic. So did my life, actually but at least I could get out of the car. 'Excuse me,' I said. I opened the car door all the way and wriggled my bare feet back into the pair of smart but hellishly uncomfortable court shoes I'd worn to the meeting with the employment agency and kicked off on the way home to make driving easier. He moved aside politely as I climbed out and stumbled over to the spindly bushwillow tree we'd planted a few years ago and which had never really thrived. Then he followed me into its insubstantial shade. 'My name is Mr Ramsamy, and I am employed by the City Bank Home Loans division,' he informed me. 'I'm sorry to trouble you at your residence, but I am here to deliver a letter of final demand. I have been trying to get hold of you on the phone but neither of your numbers appears to be in service.' He was right - they weren't. My business number wasn't working because the company who'd employed me had been liquidated four months ago, and my cellphone wasn't operational because it had been cut off just last week due to non-payment. I'd fought valiantly to try to save it. [...]

This is an excerpt from the erotic novel: Folly, by Jassy Mackenzie.

Title: Folly
Author: Jassy Mackenzie
Genre: Novel
Publisher: Random House Struik
Imprint: Umuzi
Cape Town, South Africa 2013
ISBN 9781415203910 / ISBN 978-1-4152-0391-0
Softcover, 15 x 22 cm, 256 pages