Free No Turning Back by Beverley Naidoo Page B

three years younger than her, only eleven.
    “This is my brother, David,” said Judy.
    The boy stared as Judy introduced him. His hair was darker than his sister’s. It was like the brown tassels at the end of ripe mealies, and hung over his forehead down to his eyes. Flicking back some strands, he gave a very slight nod and sat down. Sipho was placed facing him. The boy’s thin lips were set downward, and there was something in him that made Sipho feel not just awkward, but uncomfortable.
    The smell of chicken, however, soon took over. Everyone’s eyes, including Copper’s, followed Mama Ada as she carried a large silver plate into the room. The roasted bird surrounded by crisply roasted potatoes was placed in front of Mr. Danny. Sipho’s stomach was churning. He could hardly wait to feel the juices in his mouth!
    “You can start with that,” said Mr. Danny, giving Sipho a plate with a large leg of chickenand two potatoes. “Help yourself to vegetables and gravy.”
    Following the silence of the first mouthfuls, Judy and Portia began to chat, Mr. Danny joining in at times. Sipho was just wishing he didn’t have to struggle with the knife and fork when Mr. Danny said he should use his fingers on the bone. Glancing up, Sipho caught Judy’s brother looking straight at him. It wasn’t a friendly look. He hardly spoke, even when his father asked him about the rugby match.
    “Aw, Dad, I don’t want to talk about it.”
    “I bet that means you lost!” Judy grinned.
    Her brother glowered at her but remained silent. He didn’t even smile when Mama Ada brought in a large chocolate pudding and ice cream. The only nice thing Sipho saw him do was pass Copper a piece of chicken under the table.
    After dinner Judy took Sipho down a long corridor with rooms on either side. There were two sitting rooms.
    “We watch television in that one, and this one’s the lounge,” said Judy. The comfortablelooking sofas were covered in material that looked like a garden of flowers. Dark green curtains hung from the ceiling to the floor along one wall. In one corner stood a piano, and, once again, there were paintings everywhere.
    Farther down the corridor, it seemed that everyone in the family had rooms to themselves. Pointing out her father’s bedroom, Judy led the way into her own.
    “Excuse the mess! Ada’s always going on at me!
    Portia was lying on one of two beds with a magazine propped against her knees. She smiled and returned to her reading. Opposite the beds was a stereo system. Tapes, books, and magazines were spread over the floor.
    “That’s David’s room, but he’ll shout if we go in. This is where you’ll sleep, in here, Sipho.”
    They had come to a room at the very end of the corridor. Inside, everything was very tidy. Next to the bed was a desk with nothing on it. A single picture hung above the bed. A scene of some trees with flaming red flowers and blue mountains in the distance.
    “I bet you’ll want to wash off all that horrible lake water,” said Judy. “Hold on a minute. I’ll be back.”
    He had seen two bathrooms, one right opposite his room. Judy returned with a large fluffy towel, some pajamas and a pair of smart white takkies.
    “David has grown out of these pajamas, and I don’t use these shoes for tennis anymore. You can have them if they fit.”
    “I think they will fit. Thank you,” said Sipho. The shoes looked almost new.
    Watching the steam rising from the water as it ran into the bath, Sipho wondered how much he should take. When you had to carry water a long way from a tap, you only took what you needed. Would anyone be listening to see how long he left the taps on? He didn’t think so. But still he didn’t like to waste water. When the bath was a quarter full he turned the taps off.
    As he stretched out in the hot water, his mind flooded with pictures. Gogo bathing him in a small tub in the yard when he was little. Being rubbed and hugged afterward. Jabu grinning and splashing