8

Social Culture

The incongruous sound of a cock crowing roused Faye from a deep sleep. She lay quietly for a few moments, wondering if she had dreamt it. The cock crowed again, its plaintive cry wafting in through the windows. The room was still in semi-darkness as Faye peered at the luminous dial of her wristwatch. Realising with horror that it was only five-thirty, she pulled the covers up under her chin and forced herself to go back to sleep.

When she opened her eyes again, the room was flooded with sunlight straining through the thin cotton drapes. Blinking at the incredible brightness of the morning sun, Faye sat up and stretched slowly and luxuriously. She slumped back against the pillows and surveyed her bedroom through the mosquito netting.

I’m really here!’ she thought, squirming in excitement as the realisation of where she was finally hit her. Despite the gentle hum of the air conditioner, she could hear the strident toots of car horns, loud clucks from what sounded like an entire brood of chickens, and piercingly loud voices in a language she didn’t understand wafting in from outside her window.

‘I’m definitely not in Hampstead now,’ she said aloud and plumped up her pillows before lying back against them. She thought back dreamily over the events of the previous evening and Rocky’s face immediately came to mind.

She shook her head impatiently as if to dislodge the image, and wriggled out from under the mosquito net to walk over to the window. Pulling the metal tab, she peered through the louvre blades protected by the fine mosquito netting covering the window frames. Her room overlooked a large garden to the back of the house. At the far side of the garden, she could see part of a washing line with securely pegged clothes flapping lightly in the morning breeze. Directly behind the house, a green, neatly manicured lawn stretched back, surrounded by beds of brightly coloured flowering shrubs. To one side of the grass, a small open-sided structure with a thatched roof covered some tables and chairs. Alongside it was a large brick barbeque with a stand for a spit.

A knock at the door interrupted her survey of her temporary home.

‘Come in!’ she called, turning round to see who it was. The door opened slowly and Amma’s head came into view.

‘Good morning, Faye,’ she said brightly. ‘I’m glad you’re awake – I didn’t want to disturb you.’

Faye gestured to her to enter and she bounded happily into the room. Dressed in well-worn denims and a long white cotton shirt, she perched on the edge of the bed and looked at her guest critically.

‘You look well rested this morning’, she pronounced. ‘I must say you were looking pretty tired last night. Which, I suppose is not surprising after flying all the way from London. I remember when we went to Canada a few years ago how tiring it was just sitting on the plane and doing nothing for hours!’

Amma’s hair had been styled into a profusion of tiny braids that fell below her shoulders. She had twisted a bright red scarf into a hair band to keep the braids off her face and her soft round cheeks dimpled sweetly as she chattered non-stop.

‘Rocky didn’t get back home until midnight, you know,’ she carried on, barely pausing for breath. ‘Clarissa phoned me again after you went to bed and I could tell she didn’t believe me when I said he’d gone out.’

‘How long had they been going out before they broke up?’ Faye asked, trying to sound casual. She lifted away the corner of the mosquito net to make space on her bed and sat down facing Amma.

‘About a year or so,’ Amma shrugged. She lowered her voice conspiratorially. ‘She’s still crazy about Rocky and is absolutely desperate to marry him. The trouble is Clarissa just doesn’t know when to stop – she was always dropping hints and going on and on about marriage, which is about the worst thing to do with my brother. If you know Rocky at all, you know you can’t make him do anything he’s not ready to do.’

Faye held her breath as Amma paused briefly to clear her throat before continuing.

‘Anyway, the whole bust-up happened because Clarissa decided that if she could get Rocky jealous, he’d go ahead and propose to her rather than lose her. So, what does she do? She starts flirting with Rocky’s boss, Stuart. He’s British – and a complete womaniser,’ she whispered the last as an aside before continuing.

‘Well, unfortunately for Clarissa, she got completely the opposite reaction. Rocky was furious when she started flirting with Stuart right in front of him and some other friends they were out with. When he took her home, he told her that he couldn’t trust her any more and ended things there and then!’

Amma paused dramatically and Faye leant forward, completely forgetting to look uninterested.

‘So what happened? How did she take it?’ she asked impatiently.

Amma rolled her eyes in exasperation. ‘Not very well at all, to put it mildly. She still thinks Rocky didn’t mean what he said. Again, if you know my brother, you know he’s as stubborn as a mule and never goes back on something he’s said.’

Flicking back an errant braid, she went back to her story. ‘So now she just keeps calling me or phoning the house line because he never picks up when she calls his mobile, and acting as if nothing’s changed. I’ve told her to leave him alone for a while, but she thinks I don’t really like her and that I’m trying to fix him up with my best friend Baaba, who’s always had a huge crush on him.’

Confused at the sudden twist in the plot, Faye crossed her legs and shook her head in bewilderment.

‘Okay,’ she said slowly, trying to keep up. ‘So, then how does Rocky feel about Baaba – I mean, is he interested in her?’ She wondered why she was suddenly so interested in how Rocky felt about anything.

Amma gave a loud snort, slapping a hand against her plump thigh as she burst into hoots of laughter.

‘There are not many things my brother’s scared of – but Baaba is definitely one of them! He runs a mile whenever she’s around. He calls her a man-eater, which isn’t very nice. But it doesn’t help that the first time he met her, she was on the phone and all Rocky heard was her telling the guy at the other end, “No finance, no romance!”’

Unconsciously releasing a slow breath of relief, Faye ran a hand through her dishevelled hair and looked down at her crumpled shirt.

‘Well, it’s getting late. I’d better have a shower and get dressed,’ she said, getting up from the bed. ‘Have your parents gone to church?’

Amma stood up reluctantly and moved towards the door. ‘Yes – they’ll probably get back about twelve,’ she said. ‘They usually visit one or two of their friends after church before they come back home for lunch.’

She opened the door and turned back to Faye, who was rummaging through her suitcase for some clothes. ‘I’ll be in the living room when you’ve finished getting ready. We can have breakfast together,’ she said, before leaving the room.

Faye brushed her teeth, showered quickly and slipped into a pair of narrow cropped linen trousers she had bought in the summer sales. She teamed them with a white silk top that barely grazed the waistband of the trousers and brushed her hair vigorously, relieved to see that, despite the humidity, it still fell into place.

Sliding her feet into her canvas wedges, she grabbed a cotton handkerchief from the economy pack of ten Lottie had insisted on buying for her, and switched off the air conditioner before leaving the room.

Amma was stretched out on the couch engrossed in a glossy magazine when Faye walked into the living room. Without getting up, she lowered the magazine to look at Faye and shook her head enviously.

‘I wish I had your figure,’ she sighed. ‘My thighs are much too fat to wear trousers like those. Let’s go and get some breakfast.’ With that she stood up, dropped the publication on the centre table and led the way into the kitchen.

Like the other rooms Faye had seen so far, the kitchen was large and sunny and with an array of shining modern labour-saving devices that reminded her of Caroline’s kitchen. There was a large bleached-wood table in the middle of the room with several chairs pushed neatly under it. Pulling out a chair, Amma gestured to Faye to take a seat while she got to work. Explaining that Sunday was Martha’s day off, Amma busied herself opening the fridge and cupboards, chattering relentlessly as she prepared breakfast.

‘If it’s okay with you, we can go to the beach after lunch.’ She continued without waiting for a response. ‘It’s only a short drive away and it’s a popular place on Sundays. You’ll be able to meet my boyfriend Edwin and a few of our friends—’

‘Some of whom you should avoid like the plague!’

Both girls jumped as Rocky’s voice broke into Amma’s rambling narration. He strode into the kitchen and pulled out another chair. Spinning it round, he straddled the chair, and rested his arms on the back, ignoring the look of irritation his sister directed at him. Instead, he smiled at Faye, his eyes taking in her long legs and the silk cropped top.

‘Good morning,’ he said finally. ‘I hope you slept well.’ He was wearing a loose pale blue cotton shirt with jeans and looked cheerful and relaxed.

Amma deposited a pot of coffee, slices of toast and a tray containing sugar, milk, cheese and an assortment of jams and marmalades on the table. Placing plates in front of Faye and Rocky, she gestured airily at the food.

‘Go ahead, help yourselves.’ She poured herself a cup of coffee, then sat down and sipped the black liquid slowly.

Rocky offered the plate of toast to Faye first and then liberally spread two slices with butter before pouring coffee for Faye and then for himself. He glanced at Amma as he bit into his toast and almost choked at the expression of longing on her face.

‘What’s wrong with you?’ he demanded, when he could speak.

Amma shook her head and took another doleful sip of her coffee. Putting her cup down, she rested her elbows on the table and leant forward.

‘Edwin says I’m getting fat. So I’m dieting until he stops teasing me, or,’ she grinned at Faye, ‘until I’m as slim as you.’

Rocky polished off a second slice of toast then shook his head in exasperation.

‘If he doesn’t like you the way you are, just get rid of him,’ he said bluntly. He added two teaspoons of sugar to his coffee and sipped the drink with satisfaction. Looking up, he caught Faye’s eye; she was grinning and he smiled back.

‘What’s funny?’ he enquired. His pale brown eyes watched her finish the last bit of toast.

‘You two remind me so much of my brother, William, and me,’ she laughed. ‘He’s always so critical of my boyfriend.’

The smile slowly faded from Rocky’s lips and he continued drinking his coffee without comment. Amma’s face, on the other hand, lit up with interest and she leant towards Faye excitedly.

‘What’s your boyfriend like, Faye? Is he English?’ she asked.

‘Well, I suppose I should say ex-boyfriend, really,’ Faye admitted, aware that for the first time she didn’t feel anything when she thought about Michael. She tested the feeling again, like a tongue probing against a once sore tooth. Again, she felt nothing.

Suddenly conscious of the two of them staring at her, she laughed again, a heady feeling of sheer joy sweeping through her.

Amma brushed the short explanation aside and repeated her questions impatiently. Still laughing, Faye raised her hand in surrender. ‘Okay, okay!’ She went on more soberly. ‘Michael’s British and his family is originally from Jamaica. We went out together for about two years. He was at school with my brother – which is how we met – although, to be honest, William never had much time for him.’

Swallowing the rest of her coffee, Faye thought back over the period she and Michael had been together. With hindsight, she realised how much their relationship had fallen into the pattern of Michael leading while she followed. At his own instigation, Michael had taken on the role of her culture guru while she had been content to shelter in the attention that it brought her even when that attention, as she now recognised, had been mostly negative and critical.

‘Is the relationship really over?’ Surprisingly, this time the question came from Rocky, his eyes hooded as he studied his own empty coffee cup intently. She paused before answering and he looked straight up at her, his eyes probing hers. She flushed at the unexpected intensity of the look but this time she didn’t drop her gaze and stared back steadily at him.

‘Yes,’ she answered simply and smiled as he nodded his head in satisfaction.

Amma had observed the curious interchange with wide eyes and she rose from the table and collected the empty plates, for once lost for words. Faye forced her gaze away from Rocky and stood up to help clear the table and put the rest of the food back into the large refrigerator.

‘Rocky, do you want to come to the beach with us this afternoon?’ Amma had found her voice again and a new mission was taking seed in her fertile brain.

Faye concentrated on wiping the dishes the younger girl was washing and tried not to look interested in Rocky’s reply. Having done what he considered his share of the clearing – carrying two plates to the sink – he had perched on the edge of the table, from where he watched them finish the washing up.

‘I’m not sure,’ he replied, his face expressionless. ‘I have to go to the office for a couple of hours.’

‘On a Sunday?’ Faye looked at him in surprise.

‘I have to write a report on the meeting we had with our clients last night. Unfortunately it needs to get to our London office tomorrow morning so I have to get it done today,’ he explained.

Amma scrubbed hard at a coffee stain on the cup she was washing. ‘We’re used to it, Faye. Rocky often goes to the office at weekends – Mama says he works too hard and that he’s far too ambitious.’ She smiled mischievously at her brother. ‘Anyway,’ she added, ‘if everything goes well, he’s likely to get a major promotion at work soon.’

Glancing at his watch, Rocky stood up abruptly, interrupting his sister’s seemingly endless flow of chatter.

‘I have to go now, so I’ll see you girls later. Amma, thanks for breakfast – and, if you’ve got any sense, you’ll eat something yourself before you pass out.’ He grinned at her, his expression teasing. ‘Knowing you, I don’t think you can survive until lunchtime on a cup of black coffee!’

As her brother strolled out of the kitchen, Amma glanced furtively at the look on Faye’s face as she watched him leave and, apparently satisfied with what she saw there, smiled cheerfully.

With the clearing up finished, the two of them went back to the living room and spent the rest of the morning playing some of Amma’s extensive music collection.

‘Who’s this by?’ Faye asked curiously as Amma put on a song that sounded like a mix of pop and reggae with a heavy horn section.

‘He’s called Daddy Lumba,’ Amma answered, dancing in time to the music. ‘He’s been around for a long time, but I love his music – although the lyrics are a bit rude.’

‘Dad used to play highlife music when we were kids,’ Faye said, jumping up to dance as the beat of the music became impossible to listen to sitting down. ‘He says that’s the music he grew up with in Ghana. I like this much better – I must buy some CDs before I go.’

They danced around the living room, collapsing into giggles as Amma tried to teach Faye some of the popular dance steps. When Uncle Fred and Auntie Amelia returned home from church, they went to the kitchen to help make lunch – a simple meal of freshly grilled fish, rice and a rich vegetable salad, which Amma, all thoughts of her diet clearly forgotten, ate with gusto.

The sun was at its height and Uncle Fred and Auntie Amelia soon retired to their room to rest. Mindful of the heat outside, Amma and Faye stayed in the cool living room where they read magazines and newspapers for another hour before going up to get ready for the beach.

Faye changed into a navy blue and white polka dot bikini and slipped a pair of brief cotton shorts and a white short-sleeved shirt over her swimwear. As she came down the stairs, she glanced at Rocky’s picture and shivered slightly, remembering the look in his eyes at breakfast that morning.

Oh Faye, stop it! She berated herself impatiently. You’re here on holiday – not to get involved with anyone.

For once Amma was ready first and Faye found her waiting in the hall. Her long braids were tied back and she had changed into a white cotton dress. She was carrying a plastic mat folded into a neat square, and a large bag.

‘I won’t be swimming but I’ve brought a couple of towels and some body lotion in case you want to go into the water. I’ve packed some bottled water as well.’

She pointed to a wide-brimmed straw hat on the hall table. ‘You’d better take that, Faye. You really don’t want to get sunstroke on your first day here – it’s very hot outside.’

Faye seized the hat gratefully and followed Amma outside to where her car was parked. The humidity was striking after the coolness of the house and even the short walk to the car caused beads of moisture to form on her forehead and upper lip. She slid into the front passenger seat of Amma’s small car and heaved a sigh of relief when the air conditioner started to hum.

‘It is seriously hot!’ She sat back in her seat, letting the blasts of air from the vents cool her heated skin.

Amma drove skilfully, weaving her way in and out of the traffic and cleverly dodging the careless taxi drivers who stopped without warning to drop off and pick up passengers. Faye scrutinised the passing landscape with interest, amazed at the contrast between the smooth modern dual carriageway and the wide-open gutters alongside. At one point, Amma was forced to slow to a halt to allow some errant goats that had escaped their shepherd to cross the highway.

Imagine a bunch of goats crossing the North Circular Road as you’re driving through Finchley, Faye thought in amusement, turning round to watch a young boy racing after the animals in his charge.

They turned onto another dual carriageway and sped down, past rickety shop fronts and kiosks, most of which were closed. Faye gasped with delight as the sparkling blue of the sea came into view. She could see the white foam at the edge of the waves curling into the sand, while further out to sea a couple of small boats bobbed lazily on the water.

Amma slowed the car down and turned off the main highway onto a narrow roughly pebbled road. They bumped along slowly until they reached a clearing where a number of other cars were parked.

‘Oh good, Edwin’s here – look, that’s his car.’ Amma parked alongside the sleek dark blue car she had pointed out and turned off the engine.

‘Nice car,’ Faye remarked with admiration, ‘What does Edwin do?’

‘Well, nothing at the moment,’ was Amma’s candid response. ‘We’ve both just finished our National Service.’

At Faye’s enquiring look, she went on. ‘It’s a year of community service that every graduate has to do. Edwin was away teaching maths at a primary school in the north of the country for most of the past year.’ She turned off the engine and added with a wry grin. ‘The car belongs to his mother – she usually lets him use it at weekends.’

Faye opened the door, reluctant to leave the cool interior of the car, and grimaced as the relentless heat assaulted her once again. She jammed the straw hat onto her head and slung her leather duffle bag over her shoulder. Her slim feet were encased in a pair of rubber flip-flops that quickly filled with sand as she trudged behind a suddenly energised Amma.

Amma wheeled round, seized Faye’s elbow and pointed to a small group of people lounging on the sand a few feet away.

‘Look!’ she said excitedly. ‘There’s Edwin and the others. Let’s go and join them.’

Wincing at the combination of heat, sand and slippery sandals, Faye dutifully stepped up her pace and was soon being scrutinised by several pairs of curious eyes. Panting slightly from the exertion of her near gallop across the sand carrying the mat and the heavy bag, Amma took a couple of deep breaths before speaking.

‘Everybody, this is Faye – our friend from London.’ She pointed to a tall, rather lanky man lounging on a beach mat. ‘This is Edwin, my boyfriend.’ He stood up, easily towering over her, and took off his sunglasses before wiping his hand on his shorts.

‘Welcome to Ghana, Faye. It’s nice to meet you.’ He shook her hand, his grip firm and slightly damp.

Amma continued with the introductions. ‘This is James Brown’ – gesturing with a giggle at the man who had been sitting next to Edwin – ‘well, actually his real name is Kwamena Pratt, but we all call him JB.’

James Brown – alias JB – looked around twenty-five. He was small in build and very dark and wore his hair in a full, round afro. His only clothing was a pair of black swimming shorts and a heavy gold chain around his neck. A gold signet ring sat loosely on his thin middle finger and as he smiled in greeting, a glint of gold was clearly visible in the gap between his two front teeth.

Unlike Edwin, he didn’t stand up or try to shake Faye’s hand. Instead, he tapped a skinny forefinger against his forehead before pointing it at Faye with a loud ‘pshoo!’ as if firing a gun, all the while flashing his gold tinged smile.

‘How ya doin’?’ His voice was high, with an accent that sounded to Faye like a cross between a Texan and a Korean.

The girl sitting next to him rolled her eyes, clearly not impressed by JB’s performance. Her generous cleavage was almost spilling out of a low cut, stretchy black T-shirt that seemed to have reached the full extent of its elasticity. Even seated, her colourful wrap-around skirt could not hide what appeared to be very sizeable hips. Her hair was braided into short plaits that framed a small face with penetrating dark eyes and full pouting lips.

She smiled engagingly at Faye and reached out a languid arm encased in jingling gold bangles. ‘Hello. I’m Baaba,’ she said. Her voice was surprisingly deep and incredibly sexy. Faye smiled back and murmured a greeting.

Her attention was immediately diverted by the sight of a new arrival. He had clearly been swimming and his low-slung black swimming shorts highlighted a muscular abdomen and perfectly sculpted muscles. He picked up a towel from the beach mat, wiped his face and then turned to smile at Faye, displaying a dazzling set of even white teeth.

Transfixed, Faye simply could not tear her gaze away. Ghana was definitely proving to be a very attractive adventure!

Smiling broadly, Amma slapped her hand against his raised one in greeting and turned back to her friend. ‘Faye, this is Sonny – Sonny, this is our friend Faye from London,’ she said. She winked at Faye. ‘Sonny is our local hottie – women just melt whenever he’s around.’

Sonny gave Amma a gentle punch on her shoulder and after unsuccessfully trying to dry his hands on his wet shorts, held out his right hand. Slightly dazzled by the high-beam smile he was directing at her, Faye shook his hand and mumbled something unintelligible.

‘Please take no notice of Amma,’ Sonny said in a low husky voice that suited his handsome features perfectly. ‘She just likes to tease me.’

‘How long are you staying in Accra?’ The silky voice so close to her ear startled her and Faye spun round in alarm. Her hat fell forward over her eyes and pushing it back, she found JB standing only inches away from her. In her flip-flops, they were almost the same height and now, up close, she could see the faded marks of old scars on his face. Faye took a step back before answering.

‘I’ll be here for about three weeks.’ A rare gust of wind almost blew her hat off and she held it down firmly with both hands.

‘Oh man, that’s just great, man!’ he said. His accent was so strange that she could barely make out what he was saying. Of greater concern was the fact that whenever she took a step back, he would take another step forward, oblivious to her efforts to create some space between them.

Seeing her discomfort, Sonny pulled JB’s arm and dragged him backwards, ignoring the angry glare his friend directed at him. ‘Heh, abongoman! Give her some space. Can’t you see you’re crowding her? Seriously, bro!’

He turned his back on his friend and flashed another high-wattage smile at Faye. ‘Don’t mind JB – he’s just a bushman with no manners.’

Sonny’s eyes were hooded like those of a sleepy serpent as they travelled up and down the length of Faye’s long rangy legs. ‘Do you want to swim?’ he drawled, his tone slow and husky. ‘The water feels great, especially in this heat.’

Faye looked at the sparkling water and agreed enthusiastically. Moving over to where Amma was laying out their beach mat, she quickly stepped out of her shorts and removed her shirt, conscious of Sonny’s brooding gaze fixed on her as she undressed. Tossing the hat onto the straw mat, she tied her hair back and followed him down to the water’s edge.

They trudged past groups of children laughing loudly and splashing each other in the shallow waters and dodged around a large black horse that galloped past, its rider holding on to the mane and balancing on the strong bare back of his mount with just the grip of his calves.

The water was warm as Faye surged forward against the deceptively powerful waves. With strong lazy strokes, she swam out into the sea, closely followed by Sonny.

Back on the beach, Baaba watched them with narrowed eyes. Slipping on her sunglasses, she turned to Amma who had wriggled onto the beach mat between her and Edwin.

‘She seems nice enough,’ she remarked.

Amma was leaning back against Edwin, her braided head nestled against his shoulder.

‘She’s really nice,’ she agreed airily. Without thinking, she added with a laugh, ‘and from the way he’s behaving, I’m beginning to suspect Rocky rather likes her too.’

Baaba’s expression froze. She smoothed out her brightly coloured skirt and kept her tone neutral. ‘What makes you say that?’

Amma, now totally relaxed, had shut her eyes and didn’t notice the change in her friend’s demeanour. ‘Well, it’s hard to describe,’ she murmured drowsily. ‘I think it’s the way he looks at her – it’s, like, really intense, you know?’

When Baaba didn’t reply, Amma sat bolt upright in alarm, suddenly aware of what she had said. She seized Baaba’s arm, noting in panic the grim expression on her friend’s face.

‘Now don’t go getting worked up,’ she said, switching to Fanti, the Akan dialect that Baaba spoke. ‘She’s only here for a short time. Anyway, you know Rocky has just finished with Clarissa – he’s not likely to get involved with someone else so soon!’

Edwin burst out laughing. ‘Amma, you don’t know much about men, do you?’ Ignoring the angry glare Amma shot his way, he leaned back on his elbows and added, also in Fanti, ‘Baaba, if you’re wise, you’ll keep a close eye on Rocky now that he’s free,’ he said. With a nod towards the sea, he added with a sly grin. ‘It looks like she’s got Sonny hooked as well.’

Amma pushed him in exasperation as Baaba’s expression darkened. Taking a bottle of iced water from her bag, Amma took a long sip and offered the chilled drink to her friend.

‘Baaba, don’t mind him! He’s just messing with you. Anyway, I’ve told you before; Rocky won’t go out with you because you’re my best friend – he says it would be too close to home,’ she added diplomatically.

As her friend looked at her sceptically, Amma carried on, her breathless voice earnest as she tried to sound convincing.

‘Look, I even asked him to come to the beach with us today and he refused – he used the usual work excuse to get out of it. Besides, he thinks my friends are too young for him to hang around with.’ She took another long drink from her bottle.

‘So if he’s so anti-so, what’s he doing here, then?’ Baaba asked sweetly, gazing past Amma at a tall figure approaching their group.

Amma choked on the water she was drinking. She spun her head round and gaped at the sight of her older brother striding towards them.

Before Amma could say a word, Baaba was on her feet. Her enormous hips swaying, she walked rapidly towards Rocky, reaching him before he had taken more than a few steps. Reaching up, she kissed him on the cheeks three times in the traditional Ghanaian fashion, and grasped his arm firmly as they walked to where Amma, Edwin and JB were sitting.

Rocky greeted the two men, shaking hands with Edwin and raising a hand in salute to JB, his sunglasses barely concealing his distaste at the sight of the latter. Baaba reluctantly released Rocky’s arm as he sat on the mat beside Amma and contented herself with quickly sitting down beside him and manoeuvring her curves as close to him as possible.

‘Where’s Faye?’ Rocky asked, looking around the crowded beach. He had changed into a pair of long white shorts and a black T-shirt that emphasised his compact muscles. Despite the heat, he somehow still managed to look cool.

‘She’s swimming,’ Amma said briefly, looking out to where Faye and Sonny were now splashing each other in the sea.

Baaba hid a sly smile as she watched Sonny in the distance playfully trying to duck Faye’s head under the water. ‘It looks like Faye and Sonny are getting very friendly.’

Her voice was smooth and she watched Rocky covertly from under her long curly lashes. Her large breasts strained even harder against their tight covering as she leant against him, her face the picture of wide-eyed innocence as she reverted to her native Fanti, ‘Well, the girl’s on holiday, isn’t she? She should have some fun while she’s here. And if anyone knows how to show a girl a good time, it’s our gorgeous Sonny!’

Rocky stood up so abruptly that Baaba almost fell over. Shaking the sand from his leather sandals, he hitched up his shorts and smiled back impassively at the surprised faces looking up at him.

‘Where are you going?’ Amma asked. Shading her eyes with her hand, she looked up at her brother in bewilderment.

‘I hadn’t planned on staying – I just dropped by to tell you that Stuart’s having a party next weekend at his house and that you’re all invited. I’ll see you at home this evening.’

With a casual wave of farewell to the astonished quartet, he turned around and strode back in the direction of the car park.

Faye staggered out of the sea, with Sonny close behind her, both of them weak with laughter from their horseplay. Looking over to where Amma and the others were sitting, she stopped abruptly, causing Sonny to bump into her.

Grabbing her waist to prevent her from falling over, Sonny laughed, not releasing his hold even when she had regained her balance.

‘What’s the matter?’ His husky voice, so close to her ear, sent a small shiver through her.

‘Look! Isn’t that Rocky over there – by the others?’ Faye exclaimed, trying not to sound agitated.

Shrugging carelessly, Sonny wiped the lingering drops of seawater from his eyes with one hand, the other hand still on Faye’s waist, and looked over to where his friends were sitting.

‘Yeah, that looks like Amma’s brother,’ he replied.

Just as he spoke, the receding figure turned and looked in their direction. Rocky paused for a moment, his face expressionless as he watched the two of them standing immobile at the water’s edge, Sonny’s hand resting possessively on Faye’s waist.

Turning abruptly, he walked away without looking back.