Abdou was driving Tayo to the airport and Tayo was sitting in the back seat wondering if he’d forgotten anything. He’d informed all the necessary people at the university and told his neighbours and editors of his departure. He’d also remembered to lock the home phone as well as all of the windows. There was really nothing of value in the house — just the house itself — but these days thieves took anything, so everything had to be locked, double locked, even triple locked.
He’d met with the gardener and night watchman and given them their instructions. They were to guard the property until he got back. This time, however, he hadn’t told them when he would return. He suspected that the last time he went away they’d used his garage to house relatives from Gindiri and Kafanchan, and sold produce from his garden — maize, oranges, tomatoes and bananas — even though he’d specifically instructed them not to. He had also asked Yusuf to check on the house from time to time. Yes, things in Nigeria were tough, but this did not give workers the right to take liberties with his property.
Usually, he travelled for a few weeks — enough time to attend several academic conferences and present a paper or two. But this trip would be different. He was going to Europe for the first time in four years and it would keep him out of Nigeria for at least six months, which was the length of the visiting professorship in London. After that, he was not sure what he would do. A lot depended on what happened in Nigeria and to the university, but for now the University of Jos remained closed and no one knew when it would reopen.
‘You dey craze!’ Abdou shouted suddenly, hitting his palm against the horn.
‘Foolish man!’ Tayo said, seeing the petrol tanker overtake within yards of oncoming traffic. Tayo shook his head angrily as the memory of his mother’s accident flashed through his mind. It was pure luck whether or not you survived an accident caused by these lawless drivers.
‘Professor, if you can find me a job in England I will be so happy,’ Abdou broke into Tayo’s thoughts.
‘I will see what I can do.’ Tayo promised. ‘But you know in England, if you don’t have working papers they won’t employ you these days. When I was a student we didn’t need visas and that sort of thing, but everything has changed now. It’s not like the old days.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Abdou said. ‘But by God’s grace I must go. Maybe I can find an English wife, so as not to be troubled by the authorities.’
‘Maybe,’ Tayo replied, ‘but make sure you love her and not just the papers. Marriage is a very serious thing, young man,’ he added, wincing at the sound of his own words. ‘A very serious thing’ was just the sort of utterance that a man his age was supposed to make, especially given that his marriage had not survived. ‘Listen to me, because I’ve failed, I should know.’
It was so easy to declare marriage ‘a serious thing’ but it was also such a cliché, and what use had it served him? He had ended the relationship with Vanessa because he had lost his nerve, and then sensibly married Miriam because, from all indications, it was the right thing to do. Had he followed his heart, and not his head, he would have chosen differently. But perhaps it had nothing to do with head versus heart. Perhaps it had everything to do with him and his inability to understand women and relate to them, as he should.
In a few hours he would be seeing his old girlfriend, a married woman whom he still loved. A woman married to his old benefactor. Marriage is a very serious thing, so what was he doing thinking constantly of the age difference between Edward and Vanessa? How wrong it was for him to be thinking of how soon Edward might die, leaving Vanessa free — free to be with him. He wasn’t proud of this train of thought, but it didn’t stop him thinking such thoughts. It also hadn’t prevented him from expressing affection in his letters to Vanessa. Of course he did it in such a way that could be interpreted by a third person as simply an expression of deep friendship. Her letters were the same. It seemed to him that they both understood what the other was doing, each discreetly expressing their love. But what if he were mistaken? Perhaps this was simply what he wanted to think? Vanessa had never said she was unhappy with Edward and, even if she had, what were they to do? How wrong it would be to come between two people in a marriage. No, he would never do that. Life must go on. He had brought Vanessa’s diary with him and would return it. Whatever he might feel, he must behave responsibly and keep his desire in check. And so he tried to think of other things. He pictured their home with Edward’s history books stacked high on the shelves as they were in Oxford, and he pictured their art. There would be plenty of African art now, the combined collection of two art lovers. Lovers, the word echoed uncomfortably in Tayo’s head as he recalled Edward’s advice on marriage.
Tayo looked at himself in the rear-view mirror and realised that he hadn’t imagined how he might appear to Vanessa. In four years, he had aged. Gaunt and balding now, not young and muscular like his younger self. He looked away. Outside, storm clouds had gathered and the sky had turned from pale blue to a threatening charcoal grey. Birds took flight and a lone monkey dashed across the road, running for cover. Tayo thought that the lorry behind them must also be trying to outrun the storm. Abdou must have presumed the same as he pulled to one side to let it pass, but it didn’t overtake.
‘What’s wrong with these people?’ Tayo shouted, gesturing at the driver to keep his distance.
Abdou pulled over further to give the driver more room, but still the driver did not overtake; it was then that Tayo saw the military uniforms, and knew.
‘Abdou!’ he screamed.