Ma Gugu walked back to the house and found Kwanele arranging a large silver tray of breakfast.
– “Had Miss Lizzie come down already?”
– “Yes. She’s in the living-room.”
Ma Gugu took the tray from Kwanele and inspected its contents. Coffee, toast, jam, bread, butter, eggs, bacon, sausage, sautéed mushrooms, broiled tomatoes, sweet potatoes fritters.
– “Sweet potatoes fritters?”
Kwanele grinned sheepishly. “Miss Lizzie asked for it.”
– “Take it out.” Ma Gugu intoned and Kwanele complied.
Charlize saw her nanny ambling across the room with a breakfast tray in her hands. “Good morning Ma. I guess there are no fritters on that tray, am I right?”
Ma Gugu did not deign answer and placed the tray on the coffee table. “I’ve just hired a new dosmetic.”
– “Good.” said Charlize while reaching for a toast and her cup of coffee.
– “It’s the white man from last night.” Ma Gugu was expecting a reaction. She saw none.
Charlize looked up at her nanny. “Are you gonna stand here watching what I eat?”
– “No. Of course. But don’t let me catch you with those fritters again.”
Charlize shook her head. “Please don’t yell at Mbali or Kwanele, okay? I asked them for fritters.”
– “Why would I do that?”
Charlize rolled her eyes right before Kwanele came into the room.
– “Letter by courier from Johannesburg, Miss Lizzie.”
Charlize, who already had an idea of whom it was from, just dropped the unopened letter on the French console table.
– “Lizzie, don’t you wanna read the letter?” asked Ma Gugu.
– “Later.”
Ma Gugu walked around the Chesterfield sofa, snatched up the letter, slid out the card and started reading it.
– “Lizzie! It’s an invitation to dinner… for… tonight… from a… Professor Greene.”
Ma Gugu beamed with satisfaction. “Professor Greene? Lizzie, isn’t that man I saw in one of your magazines, the one they say was the most intelligent man in the world?”
When Charlize nodded slightly, Ma Gugu could barely contain her enthusiasm. “You’re accepting the invitation, of course.” she said with a tone indicating that the discussion was over.
Ma Gugu clasped her hands. “Oh my God, we’d have barely time to select your gown—and your hair, what have you done to your hair? I’m gonna have to fix that. Let me see your nails—no, no, not yet. Oh, I wish I knew it last night. You should’ve told me! Kwanele! Send me Mbali and tell the courier Miss Lizzie will attend the dinner.”
