Oscar: An Accident Waiting to Happen Read Online Free Page A

lies”, invented to spare Samantha or our family disappointment. Initially we overlooked this trait, but over time it became increasingly difficult to discern fact from fiction.
    Our family always made sure we were together over Christmas, and 2011 was no different. By mid-December the whole family was down in the Cape, in our new home in Somerset West. Oscar had hired a house in Llandudno, not far away, for himself and his “best friends”, who seemed to come and go quite regularly. They were to meet up on 26 December, so I invited him to come down a little earlier to spend Christmas with Sammy and the rest of us.
    He demurred, saying he couldn’t come down any earlier, as he had training commitments. It was heart-breaking to hear later that he had had the worst Christmas day ever, all on his own and really missing his mom. He told us that for Christmas lunch he went down to the garage nearby, and bought himself two pies. Sometime later, however, he told us how he had shared Christmas celebrations with his Greek best friend, Alex, and Alex’s family and that they had all had a wonderful day – completely oblivious to the fact that he had told us a completely different story a little while earlier. Incidents like these began to happen more and more often as time went on: Oscar would tell us something that would really tug at our heart strings, and we would find out later that nothing vaguely resembling that tragic story had happened.
    It felt like he liked to play the victim when it suited him, while on other occasions he was super capable and seemed to work hard on appearing self-sufficient and heroic.
    It’s easy to look back now and see a huge web of contradictions and mind-boggling discrepancies in what he said, but in those early months I recall feeling nothing but love and compassion for Oscar.
    He was so easy to talk to, and I often found myself deep in conversation with him, engaging in long chats about a whole range of interesting topics. He always had great stories to tell, especially about funny incidents that took place during his schooldays. He once told me about how he loved to paint at school. One story that really made me laugh was how during matric he decided to do some “alterations” on his friend’s artwork – and how his friend was really upset when he discovered Oscar’s handiwork, but forgave him when he actually ended up getting a really good mark on the exam! This was one of the many stories that showed Oscar’s fun, mischievous and adventurous side.
    Once, after a trip to Iceland, he came directly from the airport to see Sammy, and showed us all the interesting pictures he’d taken during his trip to see where his blades were made. Because he was on the road a lot, his stories were always fascinating. He was an early riser, like me, and when he spent the night at our house, we would sometimes both be up at dawn having an early-morning chat over a cup of coffee.
    Even though some of my early misgivings about Oscar had returned, I still had no idea at that point how terribly fragile Oscar’s rose-tinted bubble was, or that we were all inside it with him. But slowly it became clear to me that his public image was beginning to come apart. The Oscar we were seeing was a far cry from the Oscar his loving fans knew. Over time he revealed himself to be someone quite different from the Oscar we had initially welcomed with such joy into our home.

CHAPTER 3
Oscar the Hero
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    When Oscar entered our lives, he was already a world-famous celebrity and, I suppose, like so many other people, we were all a bit intrigued by him. At that time, he was universally acknowledged as a hero – from Italy to Tokyo, to Minnesota, a household name in South Africa, a well-known figure around the world… He was probably the South African closest to being as recognisable internationally as our beloved political icon, Nelson Mandela, who was universally revered for resisting apartheid and for helping our country