Sleep that night was a disjointed collage of nightmares for Deola.
She hardly slept, and when she did wake up at four in the morning, she stayed awake, staring into the inky blackness until the city came alive. Then she pulled the sheet back over her head, willing her brain to tell the rest of her body to get out of bed and face life.
Three weeks later, she put on her smart formal suit and prepared to go into Target PR. She had been working from home a lot lately and had not been able to bring herself to go in to the office because of what had happened with Femi. She hadn’t returned any of his phone calls, choosing to reply only to his emails about work. Her sunglasses made her feel a bit more invincible – but then as was leaving, she got a call from Soji that made her go numb.
“Morenike’s dad has found out about us.”
“How? When?”
“Morenike rang me this morning in tears. Some family friend rang her dad and told him we were dating. He also knows you are handling my publicity.”
“Seriously?”
“He hit the roof. He has been threatening me with the police, SSS and the army. Said he would see me put in prison for assaulting his daughter. All I can is that I’m sorry you got dragged into all this. I shouldn’t have let Morenike put me off talking to her father … ”
Deola shook her head. “That was why I wanted you to seize the initiative by approaching him about this instead of risking him finding out by chance.” She was going to have to clear this up, which in addition to the other unresolved issue wasn’t going to be easy.
She quickly rounded off the call, picked up her keys and headed for the door when she heard the downstairs buzzer announcing that she had a visitor. She went downstairs and looked through the peephole to see who it was – and her heart fell when she saw Femi standing outside, tapping his foot impatiently.
She took a deep breath and opened the door. Femi’s face was expressionless, eyes cold.
“Hello.”
“May I come in?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
They went upstairs to her flat and she gestured towards a seat, but he decided to stand.
“Why didn’t you reply to my texts or my phone calls?”
She shrugged. “I was busy. I’ve got other clients.”
“We will come to the issue of your other clients later. So do you always just shut down when you encounter situations you don’t want to deal with? Look at me, thinking that you broke up with me because you were worried about what you thought I needed to be happy, not knowing that it was all a ploy!”
“What ploy? Instead of letting us go any further I felt it best to be up front with you. I assumed you wouldn’t want to continue a serious relationship with me since I had made my position clear.”
Anger glowed in his eyes. “Why on earth would you assume such a thing? Do you have any idea of how many women that I’ve met socially or through work since Sola died?”
“That’s hardly my business.”
“I should think it is your business, because you are the only woman that I have felt anything for since my wife died ten years ago. So forgive me if I feel like I deserve a bit more than a Dear Femi kiss-off. But foolish me, I was beginning to fall for you so I couldn’t let it go. And then I get a message from Amber Gogo telling me that you are now working for a musician who is turning the head of my daughter, and wait for this – all the while you were romancing me, you knew they were seeing each other and you never told me!”
“OK. I’m sorry I didn’t mention it. I really am. The more I kept threatening to tell you, the more she kept promising to tell you herself. It was all family stuff and I didn’t want to get involved. I just wanted to do my job and I hadn’t really bargained that—”
“Really? You didn’t want to get involved? You tell me you had feelings for me and you know that the guy who was messing around with my daughter was your client, but that apparently has nothing to do with the large retainer he paid you, or the fact that he was recently signed up to one of the largest record companies in the world. Now they are offering you the job of PR to one of their rising stars and you want it. You are no different from the rest of the rat race are you? It’s all about getting to the top, isn’t it?”
“How dare you.”
“How dare kini? As you said, I don’t even know you. You break up with me and make it sound as if it is because you have principles, when really it is because SojiD’s management have made you the deal of a lifetime. PR to the Stars. You dropped me faster than a hot potato. And to think you had me believing you were extending your stay here because of me or Target PR!”
“Femi, it is really nothing like that. I found out about the job offer about a week before you came to my flat and wanted to tell you but things were just getting crazier and the right time just never presented itself … ”
“Tell it to the next Mugu!” Femi was shaking his head. “And to think that I wanted to marry you. I don’t even know you.”
Her heart leapt for a second then she ignored it and pressed on angrily. “You can believe whatever you like. You have no right to judge me. So you can get down from your sanctimonious high horse!”
He was about to say something more when the door opened and Funmi walked in. From her face she must have heard their raised voices from the corridor.
“Hi Oga?”
He muttered a quick greeting and brushed past her.
As the car left in a screech of tyres, the two women stood looking at each other. Funmi was the first to speak.
“What was Oga doing here?”
“Unfinished business.”
“He didn’t look too happy. Is it all sorted out now?”
Deola couldn’t quell the feeling of sadness that swept over her. “Yes. It’s all sorted now.”
“Oga will miss you, seriously. In fact he hasn’t been the same since you stopped coming into the office so much. Seems to have gone back to his old self.”
“What do you mean, old self?”
“Sleeping in the office, workaholic, depressed kind of old self.”
Deola’s heart plummeted. “Oh.”
“It’s funny, you know. We were hoping you guys might hit it off.”
Deola just muttered something, disappeared into her bedroom and slammed the door.
A fortnight later, Deola was in the sitting room watching TV, using it as a backdrop for her thoughts. Funmi had a lunch date with her former doctor, the very efficient Dr Bello. Life was funny sha. After the operation, Funmi’s ex had not come to see her. She saw sense and dumped him, and the doctor seized his opportunity. Apparently he had liked her for ages but couldn’t say anything because she was his patient then. He seemed to be a really nice bloke and Deola hoped things worked out for them.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she jumped when she heard the first knock on the door. She turned down the volume of the TV and frowned, wondering who it was, knowing she wasn’t expecting visitors.
The knock sounded again and she went downstairs and looked through the security peephole to see a woman standing in front of the block of flats. Elegantly dressed, in her early to mid-sixties, she was standing in front of a car and checking the doors were locked securely.
Deola opened the door and peered at her curiously.
“Good afternoon, ma.” Suddenly Deola recognised her. The same kind eyes. Only Femi’s mother would drive herself around in a pretentious place such as Lagos.
“Good afternoon. I take it you are Deola?”
Deola nodded.
The lady smiled. “I am Mrs Folake Da Silva. Femi’s mother.”
Deola found herself curtseying, but the surprise was evident in her eyes. “Good afternoon, ma,” she said again.
“Sorry to drop in on you like this, but I nagged Morenike into giving me your address. I had to see you.”
“Er … OK. Please do come in, ma.”
Mrs Da Silva had white hair closely cropped to her round face. Her eyes looked as if they had a story to tell, despite her kind smile.
“Thanks so much for welcoming me in. I do understand that you are probably relaxing after a hard week’s work, and the last thing you need are strangers disturbing your privacy.”
Deola hovered next to the settee, torn between asking her what had prompted the visit and whether she wanted a cup of tea or a soft drink.
“My granddaughter told me everything,” Mrs Da Silva said, ending Deola’s speculation.
Everything?
“Can I get you anything, ma? Tea, coffee or fruit juice?”
Mrs Da Silva nodded her approval. “Just water would be nice, my dear.”
Deola went into the kitchen in a daze, picked up a glass and filled it with water from the water distiller. Just how much was everything? What had Morenike said? Most importantly, had Femi put her up to this?
She emerged from the kitchen and placed the glass on the coffee table in front of the lady. She knew she was expected to curtsey again but she was too confused to get her head around what was happening. She sat down on the sofa opposite Femi’s mother.
“I have been meaning to come and see you. I have heard so much about you from both my son and his daughter and my curiosity was piqued.” Her eyes twinkled, “But you are an intelligent young woman and you know I didn’t drive myself through that awful traffic just to satisfy my curiosity.”
Deola just kept listening, still not sure where this was going.
“I love my granddaughter Morenike. She is a wonderful child. Beautiful, intelligent and definitely going places. She is also strong willed. Got that from her late mother. She can also be a bit impulsive. She got that from her dad. She came to see me a few weeks ago and told me about her new boyfriend and that you were his publicist. She also said that you had threatened to tell her father several times, and now Femi has found out about it while she was procrastinating about telling him. She confessed all to her father and me, and he isn’t too impressed with her at the moment. He is, however, concerned about what the whole thing did to his relationship with you.”
Deola sighed. She was trying her best to move on, and would rather not do post-mortems, especially with Femi’s mother, no matter how nice she seemed.
“I have every respect for your son. I think he is a great guy and a lovely father, but I don’t think we can give each other what we both need.”
“What makes you think that?”
“We had a chat.”
“I spoke to Femi and he told me about the PR job with this boy’s record company. I told him that you would have been a fool to turn down such an offer. After all, you were working as a temporary consultant. He just feels let down you didn’t tell him.”
“I wanted to, but the whole Morenike thing made it even more awkward.”
The older woman nodded. “Of course.”
“Then things seemed to go from bad to worse when Amber Gogo got herself involved.”
“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. She is jealous of you. I know that one. She has been after my son for ages.”
“She found out personal stuff about me. I was scared, and I thought that I might as well tell him before she blew it out of proportion and it all went terribly wrong. I didn’t want to hurt Femi. I do love him, but I thought I was doing the best thing for him by pushing him away.”
His mother laughed. “This old lady was young once you know. I know a little about men. Especially the one I gave birth to – and that’s a story in itself.”
“Really?”
“I was over thirty when I had Femi. I’m 71 now.”
Deola’s eyes widened. Apart from the white hair, the woman had glowing unlined ebony skin, sparkling eyes and a neat trim figure. She was also perfectly made-up and fashionably dressed in a long sea green and blue skirt and blouse with matching jewellery. “You look very well, ma.”
“I know.” Mrs Da Silva smiled. “For a woman of my age I might not be able to compete with you Lepa people but I can still hold my own. I got married when I was 22 and then had to wait almost ten years for fruit of the womb – the gossips had a field day. My husband’s family wanted him to divorce me, get another wife. I was accused of being a witch and tying my husband’s blessings down, but Bayo was like his son – a man of integrity. He wasn’t interested. He stood by me. He told me that he loved me unconditionally, baby or no baby. I was confident that I was loved, and that no woman could give him what I could give him. He was my soulmate until he died a few years ago. We were inseparable.”
“That is so beautiful, ma.”
“Which brings me to the issue of my son … Ever since he met you I’ve heard nothing but Deola says this or Deola thinks that. I’ve never seen him even notice that women even exist since Sola’s death. Then you came into his life and it’s like I’ve got my son back. He seems different, as if he has a new bounce to his step. A new zest for living. He says he has something to live for apart from Morenike and his work. He tells me he is in love with you and is thinking about marriage.”
Deola felt numb. “I know.”
“As I said, my son can get slightly impulsive sometimes but the sentiment behind it is true. He loves you. He said you ‘get’ him, whatever you young people mean by that … He also told me that you said you don’t want children.”
“That’s not exactly true … ” Deola blinked so that the woman wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes. “I just believe that marriage should be based on love and mutual understanding, not just the ability to have kids. I wasn’t too sure on where Femi stood on that, but I admit I should have given him a chance instead of just letting my fears take over.”
Mrs Da Silva nodded. “I understand and I hear you, Deola. I respect where you are coming from, but I would urge that you and Femi sit down and have a heart-to-heart talk. I would love to have more grandchildren. After all he is my only son. But in my long life I’ve seen quite a few marriages, and having children was not the only contributor to establishing or wrecking some of those unions. In most cases it was other things. In this life, if you can find someone who is your true soulmate, that you can share your dreams and visions together, you have something that far outweighs the things this world thinks are important. I want to see Femi happy.”
Deola listened politely as the lady went on pleading her son’s case. OK, so she was very unlike the typical Naija mother for whom having children was an absolute necessity, but would she be so understanding when the reality of the doctor’s prognosis set in? What if years later she suddenly grew horns and started accusing her of taking away her only son’s chance of having another child, like the stories of Deola’s female colleagues?
She loved Femi too much to have him one day look at her with regret and wish he had married a woman who could have given him the son he wanted so much. So Deola said the first thing that came to her head. Something that she knew would get rid of the Da Silvas once and for all.
“I was with someone before. He meant a lot to me. I wasn’t able to get pregnant so I went for some tests … ”
“There are things called second opinions you know.”
“I went to a top specialist. He knows his stuff, and he told me IVF wasn’t an option.” As the silence lengthened between the women, Deola continued. “I will be going back home soon. I’ve been here almost a year.” She laughed nervously. “It was just meant to be a few months, and it’s ended up being much longer than I imagined. I’m beginning to get homesick now.”
She saw a hint of sadness mixed with resignation in the older woman’s eyes as she got up. “Fine. I had better be getting back home myself.” She picked up her handbag. “It was lovely meeting you.”
“It was lovely to meet you too, ma,” Deola said politely, and to her surprise the woman gave her a small hug and looked into her eyes.
“Don’t do anything rash. Think about what I have said. Speak to Femi. Don’t leave Nigeria with unanswered questions in your heart about what could have been.”
Tears rushed to her eyes. “Thank you, ma.”
Mrs Da Silva went to the door and Deola followed her in silence. All that needed to be said, had been said.