The phone rings. Visibly irritated, can puts the poem down on the desk and goes over to answer it.

CAN: Can Themba speaking, how may I help you? [Pause.] Hey sweetie, how have you been? Ag! You must stop working night shifts in this nursing job of yours. I’ve written this poem dedicated to you. [Pause.] Stompie? What happened to him? [Pause.]

He’ll be back, sweetie, Gladys shouldn't worry. She does not need to look for him in hospitals and police stations. [Pause.] I didn't notice him when he left Thirty-Nine Steps last night. [Pause.] Sweetie, it's a shebeen, of course there were women. I just don't recall him leaving with one. [Pause.]

No man can kill Stompie, even if he found him with his wife in their marital bed. [Pause.] No, I’m not confirming that Stompie left with a woman. Hypothetically speaking, no man in Sophiatown can have the courage to lift a finger against Stompie. [Pause.] Okay, sweetie. I’ll look for him and let you know when I find him.

Stompie is at it again. Last night at Thirty-Nine Steps he was with this fine woman. I’ve never seen her before. No one knew where she came from. But she was too fine to be dancing with Stompie. She was much taller than him and definitely more beautiful than any girl he has ever been with.

She's a figure-eight kind of girl. [He demonstrates with his hands.] They danced a bit before they both disappeared into the night. It's not the first time that a man picks up a nice-time girl from the shebeen. It's just that you’d expect him to be back before dawn.

But not Stompie: he has decided to spend the whole night wherever they went. Suddenly he rocks up at my place in his underpants. I knew he had been up to no good, and that he was going to get me into trouble too. A man's character is judged by the company he keeps.