The paper in her hands had been crinkled from all the times she had folded and unfolded it. The neat scrawl had begun to fade and there were breaks in between all the dark blue lines as the ink seemed to have stretched over all the tiny creases.

"You've been staring at that number for almost 10 minutes." Mr Umar's voice shook her out of her reverie. "You're going to dial it or not?"

Could she do it?

She bit her lip as she picked up the receiver with shaky hands.

It was only a number. It was only just a number.

Each key that she pressed seemed to reverberate along her arms, striking a chord within each and every one of her fears.

It was only a number.

The soft rings in her ears did nothing to lessen her nerves. She closed her eyes, listening carefully to each ring.

One

Two

Three

Four

Fi-

"Hello."

Tasneem slammed the receiver down, completely ignoring Mr Umar's bewildered look. "It was engaged." She mumbled before hurrying away once again.

...

He rested his forehead against the top of the phone, playing mindlessly with the change in his pocket. He was nervous. He hadn't spoken to her in such a long time that he was sure he had forgotten her voice. He waited anxiously as each ring seemed to resonate throughout his entire being. He couldn't wait any longer.

He wanted to his mother's voice.

He needed to hear it and he needed to know that she was still okay.

He tapped his fingers impatiently against his thigh as the monotonous ringing began to grate on his nerves.

Six

Seven

Eight

Ni-

"Hello."Her voice was barely even a whisper but as soon as he heard it, his eyes closed as his heart began to rejoice at the sound strumming through its very core.

"Mum?" His voice was gruff with longing as he pictured her standing over the small round table in the lounge. She was probably wearing one of her sun dresses and her black sandals that she wore in the house. Her hair was tied up and she was wearing the small silver necklace he had bought for her on her fortieth birthday.

"Riaz?" He could hear tears clogging her voice as she spoke to him and he could hear the slight thud as she leaned back heavily against the wall.

"Hi Mama." He smiled just knowing that he could finally speak to her again. Their fight had faded into oblivion as soon as she said his name and he wondered how it could be that he was afraid to phone her at all.

"I miss you." She breathed out the words that flowed from the deepest corners of her heart.

"I miss you too Mum."

"Are you okay? Are you dressed warmly enough?"

He laughed at her question. "It's almost 30 degrees today. I'm wearing shorts and a t-shirt."

"Oh." He could hear her sigh of relief. "Are you eating okay?"

"Yes Mum. I'm eating okay."

"Good. I'm worried about you."

"I-" He stood up straight, rubbing the back of his neck. "Mum I got married."

His soft whisper was met with shocked silence.

"Wanneer?"

"A day after I left home." He waited for her to reply, worried at the static from the other line. "Mum, are you upset?"

"Nee." Her voice was shaky as the tears from her eyes fell into her mouth. "Nee, my seun. Dis wonderlike nuus."

No son, it's wonderful news.

"Is ma seker?"

Are you sure?

"Ja. Ek is baie trots op jou."He could hear the smile in her voice and he knew she was happy.

Yes. I'm so proud of you.

"Dankie Mama."

Thank you Mum.

"Is sy 'n pragtige meisie?"

Is she a beautiful girl?

He smiled as he thought about the woman waiting for him back home. "Ja Ma. Sy lyk soos 'n engel."

Yes Mum. She looks like an angel.

The line went silent once again and he waited patiently for her to gather her thoughts.

"Do you make her happy?"

She sounded sad. She sounded so sad that his heart almost broke for her.

"I hope so."

"Good. Keep her happy." He heard her gasp silently as the door opened behind her. "Ek is lief vir jou, my seun."

"Stop speaking that shit in my house."

"Jammer. Nee, jammer! Sor-"

The line went dead.

"I love you too, Mama."

He replaced the receiver gently on the handle and walked away.

...

"You okay son?"Mr Davenport looked up at Riaz, worried at the blank look on his face.

"I'm fine thank you." He replied, drilling the screw into place above him. He wasn't sure how he had been coaxed into helping Mr Davenport hang up the frames in his office but he was grateful for the work.

"Did I ever tell you about my parents?"

Riaz said nothing, waiting for him to continue the story himself.

"My mother was a proper boeremeisie from Prieska. Bless her soul- but she was beautiful."He smiled fondly, remembering his mother's short black hair and dark blue eyes. "Her name was Annete and when she was 17 years old she fell in love with some American bastard who knocked her up and left her behind. That's where my surname comes from."

Riaz nodded, as if to prod Mr Davenport along.

"For the longest time I hated my father. Smug bastard even stole my mother's money before he left her and we never heard from him again. I know his name was Paul and I know that I look like him but that's all I have from him. I don't even hate him anymore." He mused. "I don't feel hate or love or disappointment. I feel nothing when I think about it. Ek is nie 'n Davenport nie. Ek is'n DuPlessis. Ek is my ma se seun."

I'm not a Davenport. I'm a DuPlessis. I'm my mother's son.

Riaz looked up at the frame he had just screwed into the wall. She was beautiful whoever she was. Her hair was pitch black and her blue dress matched the hue of her eyes perfectly. But more than that- it was her smile that had captivated him. It was wide and open and free and when he looked at it, he knew where Mr Davenport got his smile from.

He really was his mother's son.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" Mr Davenport looked at the painting, his smile pinched with sadness.

"Yes sir, she's very beautiful."

My mother's beautiful too.

...

It was almost sunset by the time they walked back to their flat. The sky was on fire above them and everytime Tasneem licked her lips, she could taste the saltiness of her own sweat above it. "Wait." She grabbed his hand, halting his steps as she turned to look at the phone booth besides them.

"Do you want to make a phonecall?"

"Yes." She took the crumpled note out of her pocket once again, tapping her foot against the cement as she stared at the number.

It's only a number.

She reached into her bag to pull out a few coins, feeding them into the little slot below the green border of the phone before she dialed the number with shaky fingers.

It's only a number.

Tasneem grasped his hand, pulling him to stand just a little closer to her as she counted the amount of times it rang.

Three

Four

Five

Six

Se-

"Hello." The voice on the other end of the line was old and frail. Her voice was so different from what Tasneem remembered but she knew it still.

"Hello is this..."She breathed deeply, squeezing Riaz's hand just a little tighter, "Is this Aamina Domingo?"

"Yes." The voice sounded wary, unwilling to divulge too much of information.

"This is Tasneem. I'm-" She squeezed her eyes shut, leaning her forehead to rest against the phone. "My name is Tasneem Domingo and I think you're my grandmother."