21

Cultural Conclusions

It was unseasonably warm for March and as Faye walked briskly towards the faculty building where her lectures were held, she breathed in the fresh smell of spring, feeling lighter and happier than she had felt for ages. She nodded in greeting to a young woman dressed in jeans and a light jacket who walked past, recognising her as one of the students in her History of Art class.

It had been three months since she had started her degree course in interior design at the renowned College of Art, and she found it hard to believe that she was the same person as the gawky young girl who had been cocooned in Fiske, Fiske & Partners for so many years. Although she still kept in touch with Miss Campbell, her life was now packed with lectures, design projects and research, giving her little time to think about anything else. What spare time she had was spent shopping with Caroline and Lucinda and trying to help them plan their respective weddings. She had also made friends with some of the people on her course and occasionally crammed the odd design exhibition or group movie night into her crowded schedule.

Early for once, she walked into the large auditorium and took a seat in the middle of the front row. Looking dreamily around the half-empty hall, she marvelled yet again at the series of events that had brought her there. Her bold decision to phone the College and ask if she could be considered for late admission had taken every ounce of willpower that she possessed. When the call had come inviting her for an interview, she had been on the verge of phoning them back to say that she had changed her mind. It was Auntie Amelia’s advice during a long phone chat that had helped her to push aside the awful memories of interviewing for secretarial jobs.

She smiled as she remembered the nerve-racking interview for the design course that had felt more like an interrogation. The three faculty members that made up the interview panel had fired questions at her, giving no indication as to whether or not they were impressed by her answers. Nevertheless, fuelled by a burning need to move forward with her life, she had spoken confidently and passionately about her desire to train for a career in interior design. Addressing their concerns about having missed the first few weeks of the course, she had assured them that she was prepared to put in all the hours needed to catch up on the lost time. At the end of the interview, still no wiser as to her fate, she had gone back to her office and to her life to wait anxiously for their response.

The days following the offer of the college place were still a blur. She had rushed in early on Monday to see Mr Fiske Junior and to explain why she needed to leave, and leave immediately, and to beg him to release her from her notice period. Although shocked at the thought of losing Faye, his essentially kind heart had won the day and he’d agreed on the understanding that she would organise a replacement before she left.

On hearing her news, Miss Campbell had hugged her joy fully, promising to help whoever was sent to work with Junior. Having learnt their lesson from the last temp sent to cover for Faye, this time around the recruitment agency sent an experienced older woman who, much to Faye’s relief, immediately and firmly took charge of her hapless boss.

Later that week, on her last day at Fiske, Fiske & Partners, Faye was touched when the other secretaries threw her a small farewell party. Drinking the warm white wine they had clubbed together to buy, she looked around with a smile at the women she had worked with for years and yet, with the exception of Miss Campbell, knew so little about. Junior popped into the staff sitting room and gave a short, emotional speech thanking her for all her help, particularly, he said, when he had been suffering from one of his many ‘distressing physical ailments’. Three plastic cups of wine later, and after promising to keep in touch with everyone, she clutched her leaving present – a glossy hardback on famous designers – to her chest, and skipped out of Fiske, Fiske & Partners for the last time.

The hall was now almost full and as she looked around, Faye spotted the lecturer walking in and heading towards the front of the room. Switching off her mobile, she made a mental note to finish reading Amma’s email after the class. As usual, Amma had written a long and detailed account of all the goings-on back in Ghana. Well, nearly all. For after confirming months earlier that Rocky had left Ghana, Amma never once mentioned her brother. Instead, she shared updates about her new job in a computer software company and Baaba and Stuart’s continuing romance.

Edwin was working hard to finish a Masters degree and had found himself a part-time job. His love affair with America, although slightly bruised by some of his experiences since his arrival, had continued more or less unabated. The most surprising news in her latest email had been the blossoming relationship between Sonny and Clarissa. Faye was initially stunned by the news, but could see how they might be a good match. As Amma wrote, ‘they’ve become inseparable and go everywhere together, because neither of them trusts the other one in the slightest!’

The tutor took his place at the podium and started the class. Faye forced thoughts of Ghana from her mind and turned her attention to the lecture, making notes throughout the ninety-minute class. When it was over, she gathered her papers together and was about to push them into the leather portfolio case her father had bought her as a congratulatory gift, when she heard someone coughing softly behind her.

She turned round to see a tall, athletically built black man smiling down at her. He wore a pair of fitted denims and a brown sports jacket and she recognised him immediately as one of the executive members of the African-Caribbean Society. Although she had signed up to be a member shortly after starting at the College, her coursework had kept her so busy that she had only ever managed to attend two meetings.

‘Hi,’ he smiled. ‘It’s Faye, isn’t it?’ She nodded curiously and he held out his hand. ‘I’m Brian – Brian Hearst.’ He shook her hand with a firm grip. Faye returned his smile and he stood back for her to lead the way out of the auditorium.

‘If you’re not in a rush, would you like to go for a coffee?’ He gestured towards the small building that housed the student cafeteria.

Faye hesitated for only a brief moment. ‘I can’t stay too long, but that would be nice.’

As they walked, they chatted about the lecture they had just sat through and once inside the cafeteria, Brian bought two large coffees from the counter before joining her at the table.

Faye stole a look at him from under her lashes and was forced to admit that his dark chocolate colouring, close-cut beard and even features were extremely attractive. He also had a wicked sense of humour and they were soon laughing and arguing good naturedly about some of his more radical opinions on art and design.

After about forty minutes, Faye glanced at her watch, exclaiming at the time.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said apologetically, ‘but I’ve got to go now.’ Gathering up her things, she stood up and smiled across at him as he rose to say goodbye. ‘Thanks for the coffee, Brian. I’ll see you in class on Monday.’

But before she could walk away, he placed a hand lightly on her arm and his dark brown eyes looked straight into hers. ‘Hold on a minute, Faye. I’d love to see you again, and before Monday if that’s possible. If you’re free tomorrow evening, would you like to go out to dinner?’

For almost a full minute Faye stared at him blankly, completely taken aback by the invitation. Trying not to sound rude, she shook her head and forced a smile onto her lips. ‘I’m so sorry, but that’s not possible,’ she said, almost babbling in her haste. ‘I already have plans for tomorrow night. But thank you for asking me – maybe another time?’

Before he could respond, she turned on her heel and walked quickly out of the building. Her mind was racing as she headed to the station, and it was only once she was safely on the tube that she was able to take a deep breath and force herself to relax.

Calm down, Faye, he was only suggesting dinner, not an invitation to elope to Bermuda! She edged away as best as she could from the overweight man spilling out of the seat next to hers and tried to make sense of her overreaction to a harmless invitation. It was almost six months since her return from Ghana and, true to her fears, Rocky had never made contact. Even Amma, who had initially been optimistic that things would resolve themselves, no longer made any reference to him. Whatever their relationship had been, Faye thought sadly, it was time to accept that it was now clearly over.

Back at home and still feeling guilty about lying to Brian about her non-existent plans, she phoned Caroline to find out what she was doing the following evening. Marcus was away on a business trip and, for once, Caroline was open to the idea of leaving her couch and TV for a few hours.

‘There’s a new film that one of the guys in college was talking about the other day,’ Faye remarked. ‘The director is from Senegal and apparently it’s won a couple of awards. Nick said it was really good – why don’t we go and see it tomorrow evening?’

‘Now you’re starting to sound like Michael,’ her friend replied, a teasing note in her voice.

Faye laughed. ‘Very funny. Not. I’d like to go because I want to see the film, not because I think I have anything to prove. Besides, it’s either that or going to watch Guns in Clover play.’

‘Okay, fine,’ Caroline agreed hastily. ‘I love my brother dearly, but if I have to hear that band’s greatest hits one more time—’

‘By the way, I got asked out by someone on my course today,’ Faye cut her short and tried to sound casual. There was silence at the other end and she repeated her statement, not sure if Caroline had heard her.

‘And…?’ Caroline sounded wary and this time Faye was the one who remained silent.

‘Don’t tell me you said no?’ Caroline queried in disgust. Unable to keep anything from her best friend, Faye had eventually told her about Rocky and the disastrous way things had ended. Although initially she had understood Faye’s reluctance to get romantically involved with anyone else, as the weeks and months passed and any hope of reconciling with Rocky faded, Caroline had becoming increasingly vocal about the need for Faye to move on.

Already regretting having mentioned Brian, Faye quickly changed the subject. After dinner, she spent the rest of the evening in her room working on a project that was due in three weeks, and eventually climbed into bed just before midnight.

The next evening, after giving in to Caroline’s pleas to stay the night as she was on her own, she drove over to her friend’s flat to deposit her overnight bag before they left for the cinema. The tube was packed with people on their way into town and they had to stand through several stations before they finally got a seat. Faye glared at a young couple sitting directly opposite them who had been kissing passionately since they boarded the train, totally oblivious to the other travellers and their surroundings.

‘Why the hell don’t they just get a room if that’s what they’re planning to do all evening,’ she muttered in irritation.

Her friend shrugged and smiled. ‘I think it’s rather sweet, really. If you stopped behaving like Mother Teresa and joined the human race, you’d think so too,’ she added pointedly.

Faye stared at Caroline indignantly. ‘Just because I don’t want to watch the underground version of the Kama Sutra does not mean I’m behaving like a nun.’ Caroline shrugged, unperturbed. ‘Well, if you won’t go out on a simple date with someone, what else am I to think?’

Faye said nothing. Lost in thought for a moment, she looked across at the couple and glanced back at Caroline, a faint smile forming on her lips. ‘I suppose I am being a bit cynical, aren’t I?’ she admitted grudgingly. ‘But am I really ready to date someone? I just don’t know!’ She shook her head in frustration.

Caroline turned towards her. ‘Look, Faye, you need to face the fact that Rocky is in the past. Look how well you’ve done by leaving your dead-end job and training for a real career doing what you love.’ She sighed at Faye’s downcast expression and her voice softened. ‘Don’t you think it’s time to let go of a relationship that’s obviously not going to happen?’

Faye bit her lip hard. ‘I thought I had. But every time I think I’m over him, something happens and it feels as if it all just happened yesterday.’

Caroline sighed again and sat back in her seat. ‘Well, then maybe you should go out with this new guy just so you have something else to think about.’

They train lurched to a stop at Leicester Square and they jumped out, pushing their way past a group of rowdy teenagers trying to make a grab for their seats. Once they were up at street level, they hastened along the main road, turning off into a small side street. A short queue had formed in front of the cinema and they joined the end of the line, studying the posters for the film while waiting to pay for their tickets.

When the movie started, Faye watched in fascination as the story unfolded. The rich colours and textures of the African landscape and the sounds and images in the city scenes transported her straight back to Ghana. The film told the story of two young men from the same Senegalese village who migrated to the capital city in search of work, but fared very differently in their ability to fit in and adapt to urban life. One of the men found a mentor and was encouraged to educate himself, and he rose to become a successful lawyer and later, a prominent judge. The other young man found it difficult to make the transition to the demands of the big city and soon fell by the wayside, eventually turning to a life of crime. The drama reached an emotional climax when the two men met again after twenty years. However, this time the meeting was in court, and the judge had been appointed to try his old village comrade who had been arrested for raping a young girl. Despite the use of subtitles, something Caroline usually detested, the acting and direction of the film was superb and they watched the movie in rapt silence until the credits rolled up on the screen.

The house lights came on and they stood up to leave.

‘That was brilliant, Faye,’ Caroline said. ‘I really enjoyed it.’ She struggled back into her coat and added mischievously, ‘I think I should go to Ghana too, or maybe Senegal, after seeing that beautiful landscape. I can just imagine Marcus bare-chested and toiling in the fields.’

Faye was still laughing when she heard a high-pitched voice calling her name. She turned back sharply and stood still in shock, staring at the petite girl standing in the row behind them, her red gold curls tumbling over a black roll-neck jumper.

‘Jasmine!’ she exclaimed. Her eyes darted to the man standing beside her, but he was completely unfamiliar to her and Faye relaxed slightly, relieved not to have to exchange pleasantries with Michael.

‘What a surprise, no? It’s been ages since we last met,’ Jasmine purred.

‘Yes, it has,’ Faye replied evenly. She buttoned her coat and continued along the row of seats, heading for the stairs that led up to the exit. Undaunted, Jasmine followed in the adjoining row, her companion trailing after her.

‘So, how’s everyone?’ Faye stopped and asked politely when it became clear that Jasmine wasn’t about to be shaken off easily. ‘Have you seen Michael lately?’ She felt no emotion when she mentioned his name.

Jasmine pouted in the manner Faye remembered so well from the night at the pigfoot restaurant. ‘Oh, please!’ she said, her voice heavy with scorn. ‘I finished with him months ago – he is so terribly insular.’

Caroline had been waiting at the end of the row and waved impatiently at Faye. Jasmine’s eyes noted the gesture and her expression immediately changed.

‘Is that who you came with?’ Although the question sounded harmless, the hostility in the look she directed at Caroline was unmistakable.

‘Yes. Why do you ask?’ Faye tried not to sound defensive, all the while wondering what was coming next.

Taking no notice of the warning cough from her companion, Jasmine pursed her lips and shrugged. ‘Oh well, I just remember Michael talking about how hard he had tried to put you in touch with our culture. Of course, if your friends are white, then I suppose it does make it that much harder, doesn’t it?’ she said sweetly.

Faye gasped in outrage and gripped her handbag, forcing herself not to swing it at Jasmine’s small head. Then suddenly, inexplicably, she felt incredibly calm and she simply laughed.

Whatever reaction Jasmine had been expecting, judging from the angry flush that stained her cheeks, it didn’t appear to include amusement. Faye laughed long and hard before fixing the other girl with a steely glare.

‘Well, that has to be the most ignorant statement I’ve heard for a very long time,’ she said, the humour seeping out of her voice. ‘First off, Michael wouldn’t know real culture if it got up and bit him, any more than you would, if that’s the kind of rubbish you come out with.’

Jasmine’s companion looked at his girlfriend in alarm as she stood rooted to the spot, staring at Faye in shocked disbelief. Caroline, tired of waiting, walked up to Faye and was just in time to catch the rest of her tirade. It was as if the years of pent-up frustration and irritation at the constant cultural put-downs she had endured had decided to unleash themselves, and Faye was now in full flow.

‘Secondly, if you have enough sense of who you are and where you’re from, it doesn’t matter in the slightest what colour your friends are because, as any intelligent person will tell you, friendship doesn’t come in colours. If it did, Michael shouldn’t have been friends with either you or your precious brother, since both of you are even paler than my white friend here!’

Jasmine’s jaw had dropped in shock and she gasped as Faye’s words poured over her like a cold shower. Undaunted, Faye took a deep breath before continuing.

‘And finally, for your information, in my culture, it is not acceptable to chase after other people’s boyfriends.’ She paused briefly, then added sweetly, ‘Oh sorry, I forgot, you’re not from Africa, are you?’

Leaving a speechless Jasmine staring after her, she nudged a stunned Caroline into life and they walked quickly out of the cinema. They had barely left the building when they took one look at each other and collapsed into helpless giggles. Staggering along the dark street, they held each other up and laughed hysterically, tears streaming down their faces.

‘Oh, oh, Faye,’ Caroline cried. ‘Did you see her face when you walked off? I thought she was going to faint!’ She paused, holding her sides painfully and panting with laughter. Faye leant against a lamp post, shaking with mirth.

‘Oh dear,’ she said, finally calming down and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘I think I went a little bit over the top there, Caro. But that girl is such a bitch, she had it coming.’ She burst into fresh peals of laughter as she remembered the look of panic on the face of Jasmine’s friend.

‘Did you see the way that man kept looking at her?’ she gasped. ‘The poor guy looked ready to run for his life!’

They laughed all the way home, hardly noticing the discomfort of the hot tube packed with partygoers. Sharing a bottle of wine back at Caroline’s flat, they chattered for hours as only old and true friends can, eventually falling into their respective beds in the early hours of Sunday.

A few days later, as she walked out of the faculty building at the end of the last lecture of the day, she heard her name and turned round to see Brian hastening towards her. She greeted him with a warm smile and walked along with him for a few minutes, readily agreeing to his offer of a cup of coffee to ward off the chilly March winds.

‘Faye, I would really love to take you out.’ Brian’s warm brown eyes were serious as he looked at her. Faye stared back at him and, touched by the sincerity in his voice, she nodded slowly.

His face split into a huge grin and he stood up, picked up their empty coffee mugs and placed them on the trolley with the other used crockery. As they walked out of the busy cafeteria, he looked across at her curiously. ‘By the way, where are you from?’

Without hesitation, Faye replied, ‘From Ghana.’ He nodded with interest and hoisted his heavy black rucksack over his shoulder.

‘I’m from Barbados,’ he said. ‘Well, at least my parents are, but I like to think of it as my home too, even though the last time I went there I was only about ten years old. Have you visited Ghana?’

‘Oh yes,’ Faye smiled. ‘I was there only a few months ago and I had a wonderful time.’

Brian walked with her to the tube station before saying goodbye, and they agreed to meet the following evening at a wine bar they both knew. Elated at her decision, Faye headed for home. Her father was away on yet another overseas trip and was not due back for at least another week. William and Lucinda had also decided to take a few days off together and had left that morning for a short holiday in the sun.

Lottie had decided to take advantage of an almost empty house and announced that she would be going up to Scotland to spend a long weekend with her disabled sister. Closing the front door behind her, Faye headed up to Lottie’s room where she found her packing a small suitcase in preparation for her departure the next morning.

She gave Lottie an exuberant hug and sat cross-legged on the bed watching the older woman as she sorted out her clothes and carefully packed the gifts she had bought for her family in Glasgow.

‘So what’s put that expression on your face, then?’ Lottie looked with amusement at Faye who was grinning irrepressibly.

‘I was asked out today by someone on my course. We’re going for a drink tomorrow night.’ She tried to sound casual but the excitement that had been building up in her since agreeing to go out with Brian seeped into her voice.

Lottie paused in the middle of folding the white towelling dressing gown she was about to pack. Her curiosity piqued by this new development, she sat down next to Faye on the bed. ‘So, what’s he like then?’

‘You mean, apart from the sexy, low-cut beard, great body and fantastic sense of humour?’ Faye giggled. ‘Pretty nice, I’d say.’

‘Okay, but leaving all that aside, are you really sure you’re ready to get involved with someone?’

She watched as Faye’s face clouded over for a moment before a determined smile broke through. Troubled by the sadness she had seen in Faye’s eyes after her return from Ghana, Lottie had eventually prised the details of what had happened with Rocky out of her. Now, she tried to quash the unsettling thought that Faye was trying just a little too hard.

Oblivious to Lottie’s scrutiny, Faye described Brian in minute detail, including his easy acceptance of her dual cultural upbringing. ‘He’s so different from Michael,’ Faye babbled on enthusiastically. ‘I don’t feel in the least bit pressured or judged when I’m with him. Actually, he’s just like me, except his parents are from Barbados.’

Lottie considered Faye’s statement for a moment before asking quietly, ‘You don’t still worry about your cultural identity, do you? I thought the trip to Ghana had changed all that.’

Faye shook her head with vehemence. ‘Oh no, I’m way past worrying about that now. You know, Lottie, Michael made me feel as if I could only be culturally acceptable if I spoke a certain way or ate a particular type of food. It took me a while to sort things out for myself, but I know now that eating all the pasta in the world doesn’t make you white, any more than eating all the pigfoot in the market can make you black.’

She paused for a moment, her forehead furrowed in thought. ‘Besides which, from what I learned in Ghana, African culture is also going through change, and some of the people I came across were just as “Western” as me, if not more so. It really doesn’t matter what I choose to eat or wear, or who I’m friends with; my culture is part of me, no matter what.’

Lottie’s face mirrored her surprise at Faye’s confident outburst. ‘To be honest, Faye, I have to say that I’m stunned. I knew going to Ghana had changed something in you, but —’ She shook her head and shrugged, suddenly at a loss for words.

Faye laughed, warmed by the look of new-found respect in Lottie’s eyes. ‘Well I couldn’t expect you to keep rescuing me all my life now, could I? I mean, think about it, Dad even paid for my trip to Ghana! You were right, Lottie; it was well past time for me to grow up.’

She stood up to leave the room and let Lottie finish off her packing. ‘You know, applying for college and getting the loan to pay for it is the first thing I can really say I’ve done for myself and by myself,’ she said frankly. ’And I guess I’ve learned that if I want to be happy, I have to rescue myself.’

She felt a little less sure of herself the following evening when it was time to leave the house to meet Brian. Dressed in a black shift dress which she had teamed with a cherry-red cardigan, high-heeled ankle boots and a long double-stranded seed pearl necklace, she applied the barest minimum of make-up and drove down to Camden Town, finding a parking spot in a side street.

She walked the short distance to the wine bar, pushed open the door and peered through the small crowd of people in search of Brian. He was sitting at a table near the door and stood up as she walked over and gave him a hug. He looked even more attractive in the candlelit setting of the quiet bistro and she noted that the sexy beard had been freshly trimmed. He wore dark trousers and a thin grey turtleneck jumper that showed off his athletic physique.

She ordered a glass of white wine and they were soon chatting easily. She soon discovered that he had also seen the Senegalese film and they discussed the storyline, arguing noisily about their varying interpretations of the filmmaker’s message. Brian was a keen traveller and had her in stitches with stories about some of the places he had visited.

The time flew by, and two hours and another glass of wine later, Faye looked at her watch regretfully and made her excuses, explaining that she needed to be up early the next morning to continue working on her project. Brian looked disappointed at the early end to the evening, but he shrugged good naturedly and called for the bill without protest. When the waiter came over, he pulled out his wallet and paid quickly, then led the way outside and walked with her back to her car.

‘Can I give you a lift somewhere?’ Faye asked when they reached her Fiesta. He shook his head with a smile. ‘No, thanks. I’m all the way in South London. I’ll just jump on the tube – it’s much quicker than driving anyway.’

Faye nodded and reached up to kiss his cheek. Just as she did so, he turned his face swiftly, capturing her lips with his. For a long moment Faye remained motionless, feeling the sensation of his firm lips moving against her mouth and the strength of his arm drawing her against him. When at last he raised his head and looked at her questioningly, she looked back at him with regret, and shook her head slowly.

‘I’m sorry, Brian,’ she said softly, unable to pretend a passion she didn’t feel. ‘But thank you so much for asking me out tonight. I had a great evening. See you in class next week?’

He nodded, his wry smile showing that no harm had been done. He kissed her on the cheek, the soft touch of his beard lightly grazing her face, and stood back while she opened her car door and got in. She wound down the window and smiled up at him as she started the engine.

‘Drive safely, Faye.’ He stood back as she slowly reversed out of the parking space, and watched her drive away.

Faye woke up early the next morning and after a quick shower, padded downstairs to make coffee before getting back to work on her project. Although she still had a couple of weeks before it was due, she was determined to keep ahead of the gruelling schedule of coursework. After a few hours, she took a break and went downstairs for a quick snack, and then forced herself to go back to her room to continue with her task.

It was late in the afternoon when the insistent chimes of the front doorbell broke her concentration. For a few moments she didn’t move, and then remembered that she was alone in the house and no one else was going to answer the door.

Tutting in irritation, she raced downstairs, not bothering to check through the peephole before opening the door. She stood speechless with shock as she looked up to see Rocky standing on the doorstep.

For what seemed like hours, neither of them spoke.

‘Hello Faye,’ Rocky said finally, his long-lashed, caramel-coloured eyes fixed on hers.

‘Hello Rocky,’ she echoed faintly, still unable to believe her eyes. She realised that she was blocking the doorway and moved back hastily to let him in.

He shrugged off the heavy jacket he’d been wearing and hung it on the coat rack near the door, then turned back to Faye who was still standing and staring stupidly at him.

‘What are you doing here?’ She blurted the words out, too surprised to care if she sounded unwelcoming.

Rocky looked at her steadily for a few moments and then pulled his wallet out from his back pocket. ‘I came to bring you this,’ he said, taking out a small piece of paper, which he unfolded and then handed over to her.

Faye looked with surprise at the picture Uncle Fred had taken of her on the day of Frieda Ansah’s engagement ceremony. Dressed in her borrowed boubou, she was laughing, her face radiating happiness. Her head was thrown back, exposing her long slim neck, while her almond-shaped eyes gazed straight into the camera, their expression sultry and inviting.

‘Where did you get this?’ she asked in bemusement. ‘Uncle Fred took this picture ages ago.’

Rocky sighed and ran his hands through his cropped wavy hair in the gesture that was at once so familiar and so painful.

‘Faye, can I sit down, please?’ he asked suddenly. She looked at him closely. He looked thinner than she remembered and tiny lines around his eyes betrayed his exhaustion.

She ushered him into the living room. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked anxiously. ‘Can I get you something to drink?’

He waved away her concern, patted the seat next to him in invitation and turned to look at her as she reluctantly sat down.

‘Faye,’ he started – and stopped – almost immediately, shaking his head in frustration. ‘Look, there’s so much I want to tell you but first, and most importantly, I want to say I’m sorry.’

She stared at him, but before she could say a word, he reached across and gently placed a forefinger against her lips.

‘No, please, let me finish,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry for being such a stubborn fool and for not giving you the chance to tell me what really happened. I’m sorry for putting my own fears ahead of everything else and, most of all, I’m sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you by being such a total idiot.’

Faye surreptitiously pinched her arm to check she wasn’t dreaming and welcomed the pain that confirmed that this was no illusion.

Rocky reached for the picture she was still holding and tapped it slowly with his finger. ‘You know, Faye, for a long time I thought that if I worked hard enough and long enough, I’d be able to get you out of my head. For a while I even thought it was working, until the day I was downloading the pictures in my camera and saw this one.’

Casting her mind back, Faye remembered how Uncle Fred had borrowed Rocky’s camera to take the pictures. Silently blessing the older man for his foresight, she tried to take in what Rocky was saying.

‘The picture brought it all back and I realised that I was kidding myself if I thought that I was over you,’ he said softly. ‘Faye, I’m sorry. Really, truly, sorry. Can you forgive me?’

He looked deeply into her eyes and held his hand out to her. Trembling with emotion, her eyes filled with tears and she reached for his hand briefly before releasing it and flinging herself into his strong arms. He held on to her tightly and continued to murmur apologies under his breath.

Breathing in his familiar scent, she kept her head pressed against his strong chest until she felt his fingers gently lifting up her chin. Looking down into her eyes, Rocky leaned forward and kissed her, tenderly at first, and then with barely suppressed passion. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her mouth hot against his searching lips, feeling a heady sensation flooding through her as she pressed herself up hard against him, clearly feeling the evidence of his passion.

With a groan, she dragged herself from the couch, pulling him up with her. He looked at her, his breathing ragged, and she nodded in unmistakable invitation before turning and leading him up the stairs to her room.

The long shadows of evening had crept across the bedroom as they lay quietly in Faye’s large bed. Resting her head on his chest, Faye caressed his muscled shoulders, marvelling at the strength they had just displayed. Kissing his chest softly, she asked the question that she needed the answer to, now more than ever.

‘Rocky, please tell me what happened with Celine,’ she asked quietly. His hand had been stroking her hair and it suddenly stilled. He dropped a kiss on her head and sighed deeply before speaking.

‘We met when I was in the States,’ he said softly. ‘She was on the MBA programme with me and we were in the same project group. She was very bright and incredibly attractive, and we soon started talking about more than our coursework.’ His laugh was quiet and mirthless, and the sound rumbled in his chest against Faye’s ear.

‘After a few months, she’d more or less moved in with me and things started getting pretty serious, at least they did for me – I even mentioned her to my family. Anyway, a few hours after we finished our final exams, I came back to our apartment to drop off some books.’ He paused briefly before continuing, his voice devoid of any emotion. ‘She was in bed with one of our classmates – a rich American guy whose father owned a steel mill somewhere in Pittsburgh.’

Her arms tightened around him in sympathy and he sounded almost pensive as he continued. ‘The funny thing was she didn’t turn a hair. He was terrified and couldn’t get out of the room fast enough. She just looked at me and shrugged. I can still hear her now, “Rocky, honey, you’ve got to understand. I’m smart and I’m a high achiever and I’ve got to be with another high achiever – that’s the only way to get on in this world.”’

Faye sat up abruptly, appalled at what she had just heard. ‘But how could she say that, Rocky!’ she exclaimed. ‘You’d just finished an MBA, for God’s sake. Of course you were going places!’

He shrugged, gently pulling her head back down against his chest. ‘In her book, having someone with an MBA and access to millions of dollars was a much better bet than having some foreigner with an MBA and no job.’ He laughed properly for the first time since his arrival.

‘Anyway, I guess that’s what made me so determined not to let another woman get to me. Until I met you, that is,’ he added, kissing her hair.

‘Er, hello! What about Clarissa, then?’ Faye asked pointedly. He laughed again and pulled her closer still.

‘Believe me, Clarissa was a non-starter,’ he chuckled. ‘She was good fun and easy to be with, but there was no way it was going any further and I didn’t want to lead her on. In fact, she did me a favour by playing up to Stuart. She knew Celine had left me paranoid about infidelity and Clarissa’s attempts to flirt with Stuart gave me all the excuse I needed to end the relationship.’

He sat up slightly, peering at her in the semi-darkness. ‘I’m just sorry that my paranoia also made me jump to the wrong conclusion about you and Sonny,’ he said soberly. ‘I should have known better.’

He moved to kiss her and she pulled away from him, pretending to sit up.

‘I really think I should get up now. As your hostess, I don’t want to abuse the situation,’ she said with a teasing smile.

‘Abuse me all you want,’ he murmured, pulling her back to him and nibbling gently on the soft lobe of her ear. After several minutes, she sat up again.

‘Rocky, you’re definitely thinner than before,’ she said in earnest. ‘You looked really tired when you got here. You must be hungry – let me make you something to eat.’

‘Okay, what do have in mind?’

She thought back to what she remembered of meals in Rocky’s house. ‘I could make jollof rice, if you like? Or I could cook some spinach stew with pigfoot – I’ve watched Martha make it and I’m sure I can get the ingredients together in no time.’

Rocky pulled her back into his arms and kissed her. Shaking his head, he smiled gently and said before kissing her again, ‘I hate pigfoot. What about some pasta?’