“I was just clearing my throat!”

“Elephant One suggesting he has upper respiratory tract blockage requiring immediate clearance!” yelled the agent.

Ramaphosa sighed and pulled the lever under his desk that opened the large trapdoor in the middle of the floor. The three agents dropped out of sight with a faintly disbelieving scream.

“Apologies, Patrice,” he said. “So. How’s everyone?”

“Ag,” shrugged Motsepe. “You know. Same same. The kids are bouncing off the walls a bit.”

“It’s tough, this lockdown.”

“No,” said Motsepe. “They’re literally bouncing off the walls. We have an antigravity room.”

Ramaphosa sniffed and toyed with a paperclip. “Must have cost a bit.”

Motsepe narrowed his eyes. “Don’t. Just don’t.”

“I’m just saying ... ”

“Well don’t.”

“All I’m saying is ... ”

“Yes, it is,” snapped Motsepe. “It’s literally all you’ve said, every day for a week, every time we’ve spoken.”

“Well, if you’d just done the right thing I wouldn’t have had to have said it.”

Motsepe leaned in close. His face filled the screen. Damn, he looked good for his age. He was probably getting four or even five hours a night. Bastard. “Matamela,” he said. “I gave your fund a billion rand. A billion.”

“You did,” said Ramaphosa. “You definitely did. And I’m sure you had your reasons for only doing it a week after the Ruperts and Oppenheimers.”

Motsepe raised a finger but Ramaphosa cut him short. “All I’m saying,” said Ramaphosa, “is it was a bit embarrassing. I launch a big fund, the Stellenbosch crew peels off two bil, but my own brother in law takes a week to ... ”

“Do you know how difficult it is to access a billion rand at short notice?” said Motsepe.

“Isn’t it just retinal scans these days?”

“Oh sure!” snorted Motsepe. “Let’s all just press our eyeballs straight into a puddle of coronavirus, why don’t we?”

“Look,” said Ramaphosa, “I don’t want to turn this into a huge thing. I was just calling to say hi.”

“Hi.”

“So ... hi.”

“Hi.”

There was a long silence.

“It just looked bad,” said Ramaphosa softly.

Motsepe flung himself back in his chair and slapped his hands over his eyes. “Do you know how much money Oppenheimer and Rupert have?” he yelled.

“It’s not a competition, Patrice, I just felt ... ”