"Guess that makes me a pa.s.senger. The old revolvingdoor ride."

"No free will," she agrees and tucks into her only slightly stale pastrami sandwich. She offers Sloth a bite.

"He only eats leaves."

"Sorry, didn't bring any with me. I would have saved you some weeds if I'd known, cutiepie."

"Hey, did Songweza ever come here with you?"

"Oh yeah, Song was practically a regular. Wouldn't know it, huh? High-maintenance girl like her. I think she kinda gets off a little on slumming it."

"I get the same impression."

"This is where she met her poet."

"Would this be Jabu by any chance?"

"I see you're familiar with the tragic romance of Song and Jabu."

"Broke up with her via SMS?"

"Harsh, huh? Those two fell hard. Pop princess and wannabe-novelist breadline kid living with his charlady mom in Berea. He wrote poems for her when he managed to stay off the mandrax for long enough to catch the words. She promised to turn them into songs. And then, poof! He just never came back."

"Can't be that unusual. This isn't rehab proper. No one's exactly checking in."

"Sure, you get the drop-ins, drop-outs. But that was cold, even for a junkie. How do you know Song anyway?"

"Let's say I used to be in the music industry. Very briefly." I pack the Kitsch Kitchen wrappers and the plastic cutlery into the box, and stand up to go.

"See you again?" Naisenya asks, hopeful. I think she has a crush on Sloth.

"If you're here." I toss the box into the communal dustbin. "Working it, and all that."

It's strange to phone Songweza's number and actually get through, although it takes her twelve rings before she answers. I feel a stab of guilt for neglecting her.

"Lo?" Her voice floats up like she's answering from Atlantis a dreamily drowning voice that is so far removed from the smart-a.r.s.e diva persona, I'm convinced I've dialled wrong. Which is impossible. I put her on speed-dial two.

"Song?"

"Yes?"

"It's Zinzi. The woman with the Sloth."

"Oh. Oh yes. You weren't very nice to me." A hint of petulance spikes through the depths.

"Is everything okay? With you, I mean."

"I'm fine. Arno is cross that I came back. Yes, you, doos. doos. But I had a talk with Odi, and he says as soon as this alb.u.m drops and after the tour, we can talk about splitting up and going solo. He said it's like a good launch platform? For both of us." But I had a talk with Odi, and he says as soon as this alb.u.m drops and after the tour, we can talk about splitting up and going solo. He said it's like a good launch platform? For both of us."

"Well, that's good, right? Are you going to play indie music?"

"Odi said celebrities are little G.o.ds. You have to feed the people what they want so they can worship you properly."

"What about Jabu, Song?"

"Jabulani, Jabulani, he can kiss my breyani. I just made that up. Odi says he was cheating on me. Tried to hit on Carmen. Can you believe the nerve? He says he had a little word with him and that's why he took off. He says he didn't do it to hurt me. Odi, I mean. He has my best interests at fart." She giggles.

"Are you back on your medication?"

"I wasn't on these pills before."

"Do you know the name?"

"Misty-pisty-something-something."

"Do you have a pen?"

"What for?"

"I want you to take down my number. I want you to call me if you're worried about anything, or if you run into any trouble."

"So you can pull my hair out by the f.u.c.king roots again?"

"So I can try to help you."

"It's cool, your number came up on my phone."

"I'd like you to write it down."

"I'd like you to kiss my breyani," she screeches and lapses into manic giggles. "Shut the f.u.c.k up, Arno."

"Can I talk to your brother? Or Des?"

"Des is gone. Des was the bomb, but now he's gone. Here, talk to doos doos face." face."

"Arno?" There is the scramble of the phone being handed over.

"I told you. Didn't I tell you?" Arno whines.

"She's on some pretty heavy medication. Where is Des? Is Mrs Luthuli there?"

"No, they went away for a coupla days. Back to the Valley of a Thousand Hills. For a funeral. Des's cousin hung himself," he says matter of factly. "He was twenty-two. It was probably Aids."

"And S'bu?"

"He's writing songs in his room."

"Can you do me a favour, Arno? Can you give me the name of the medication Song is taking?"

"Uh, sure, hang on, I'll just have to go upstairs."