Then followed an hour’s drive to Carnarvon by way of long, hot, dusty, potholed roads past waving, poor people on foot or pushing bicycles, and carrying bundles of wood or things wrapped in newspaper.
Carnarvon was a place in the middle of nowhere where nothing happened. Simple breakfasts, lunches and suppers were linked together by chains of cigarettes and conversations consisting of long, trailing life histories that made the old men in their elbow patches stammer and squint into the past from behind their thick spectacles, as they dredged up anecdotes from the dry riverbeds of history.
Oh, how wonderful it was listening to those minutely detailed sagas. But after two weeks I was bored out of my wits. The novel could wait, I decided as I packed up and was driven back to Hutchinson Station. The train from Cape Town – the very same one that had brought me there two weeks before – slid into the station. I bade Uncle Henkie goodbye with a promise that I would feature him prominently and truthfully in my novel.
When the train slithered out, I turned to the passengers in the compartment with whom I was going to spend the next sixteen hours or so on the way to Johannesburg. 

Answers

1.                                    
   1. history/roots/background/saga ✓
   2. Cape Town ✓ (2)
2. Cigarettes smoked immediately after one another/in close ✓ (1)
3.                                    
   1. Metaphor ✓ (1)
   2. Historical facts are hard to find, just like water is hard to find in a dry riverbed. ✓
      OR
      History is as boring as a dry riverbed is dry and lifeless. ✓
      OR
      He wanted to convey/emphasise/show that historical facts are hard to find/boring ✓ (2)
4. They smile at him. ✓
   They ask him about his visit/journey to Cape Town. ✓
   They listen to his conversation with real interest. ✓
   One of them offers him a beer. ✓
   They laugh at his story (about Georgie Abrahams). ✓
   When they leave, they shake his hand/slap his back. ✓                (2)
5. He is scared of them✓
   They are not to be trusted. ✓
   He is worried that they might harm him. ✓
   He is afraid that they might steal his luggage. ✓
   He feels indifferent. ✓                                                                  (2)
6. They are no longer outnumbered ✓
   They realise the narrator is scared. ✓
   The narrator is, more or less, the same age as the boys. ✓
   They are bullies, exploiting the fact that he is young and  scared. ✓         (2)
7. He is afraid that they will steal his luggage while he is ✓
   He is afraid that they will know why he is going to the conductor. ✓        (2)
8. True. They look exactly alike/identical./They have identical lips and eyes/features. ✓✓     (2)
9. Yes. It is good to know one’s background/heritage. You might come across family members you never knew. ✓✓   (2)
   OR
   No. You may discover some disturbing facts. It is better to leave the past alone and start afresh. ✓✓    (2) [18]

He threw the remains of the dead man out of the window in the dead of night, and wiped the blood carefully from the windowpane, the green leather seat, the floor. When the conductor questioned the whereabouts of the missing man, Georgie merely shrugged and uttered a melodious “How should I know? Nobody asked me to take care of him.”
But even as Georgie was relating this tale of theft and murder in all its horrific detail, I knew it was a lie, simply a more elaborate version of my mother’s dire warnings to yours truly at seven, “If you eat in bed you’ll grow horns”, or the more convincing “Go to bed with wet hair and you’ll suffer from a smelly nose for the rest of your life”. Georgie was in fact warning me to stay clear of his luggage! And the story had quite an amusing ending. When we reached Cape Town Station, a toothless woman in a lopsided jersey, stretched to twice its original size (which used to be XL) welcomed the murderer home with an unceremonious slap across his face, while I looked on together with a brood of his startled children who didn’t know if they should laugh with delight at their papa’s homecoming, or cry for the humiliating onslaught he was being subjected to.
“Ses maande en djy skryf niks, phone niks, not a blerry word van djou!”

Answers 

1. He had been away from home for 6 months/a long time✓
   He never wrote or phoned/made contact./She never heard from him. ✓          (2)
2. No. He tells the story of Georgie’s wife slapping him in public - something a cold-blooded murderer would not allow. ✓✓
   OR
   No. The narrator states that he knew it was a lie/just a warning to him to leave Georgie’s luggage alone. ✓✓ (2)
3. The friendly men laugh/chuckle/enjoy the story/his accent ✓
   The boys refuse to laugh (although they listen to the story). ✓        (2)
   The young writer is actually telling the story to the other three/is trying to ignore the boys. ✓      (1)
4.                    
   1. brother’s ✓ (1)
   2. gang ✓ (1)
5.                          
   1. He is no longer afraid of the /He becomes more relaxed/ at ease./His appetite returns. ✓        (1)
   2. They invite him to share their supper/meal. ✓
      They strike up a conversation with him. ✓
   3. They recognise him as aunty Ria’s grandchild/clever boy. ✓
      They become friendly. ✓      (2)
6. C/fear ✓ (1)
7. Both boys are killed✓
   They are still very young/not even 21. ✓
   OR
   They die a violent death at a young age. ✓                                   (2)
8. The support of family strengthens one and often makes success easier to achieve. The three characters in this story come from the same family yet they all turn out  differently✓
   OR
   Your background does not necessarily determine your success or failure in life. People can rise above their circumstances. ✓       (2) [17]