‘But I must see you, Joseph,’ Grace cried in anguish. She gripped the receiver hard in her small hands. ‘I must see you. Oh, Joseph, don’t do this to me. Please don’t.’
Over the impersonal wire came Joseph’s lazy and casual voice, once attractive, now maddening. ‘Sorry, Grace, I can’t make it today, and throughout this week. You know how busy I am these days, and how troublesome my boss has become. Maybe I could next week, but …’
‘Joseph!’ shouted Grace and then bit her thin lips as the clattering typewriters in her office seemed to stop to listen to her. ‘Joseph,’ she said in a lower, more despairing tone. ‘Joseph, it’ll be too late next week. It has to be this week or else it will be too late. Oh, what’s bothering you? But just come. Say you will.’
She paused, breathless from her emotion, and glanced furtively behind her. The fear that her co-workers might be listening in made her dislike using the office telephone. But this time, no one seemed to care.
‘Look, darling, my boss is calling. I’ll ring later and we’ll …’
‘Joseph, Joseph, oh Joseph …’ cried Grace, but the line went dead. As calmly as she could, she replaced the receiver and, unable to control herself any longer, burst into a storm of tears. ‘Oh God,’ she moaned, ‘why did you let this happen to me?’
But that was yesterday.
Today, waiting to see Tunji for the second time, it all came back to her. Joseph had failed to come so she had come alone, no longer caring what Tunji thought of her, for he had clearly said when she called the day before that she should come with the man, otherwise he would do nothing. Maybe he was afraid she would not be able to meet his stiff bill.
Many unpleasant thoughts raced through her tired mind at the prospect of his refusal to help her. She shuddered on visualizing herself as a social outcast. And what was the use of living, when one’s pride and all that one held dear were taken away?
Slowly and unbidden, tears rolled down her thin cheeks, scouring a path through the powder for more to follow. She plucked out a small pink handkerchief tucked under her broad black belt, and hunching her narrow shoulders, burst into body-racking sobs.
Presently Tunji came into the parlour, a middle-aged man of average height with a round, chubby face, bulging discoloured eyes and an air of ill-gotten well-being emanating from his too liberally covered bones. Accustomed to seeing girls who waited for him crying, he remained unmoved by Grace’s sobs.
He sat down in an armchair facing her, noting how her thin shoulders shook like an old car travelling over a rough road. She wore a tight, very becoming, red gown with white spots which brought out the firm contours of her developing small body, and suddenly he felt pity for her. Why, she was hardly a woman yet! But that soon disappeared to be replaced by greed – the younger they were, the more money he could get! No one could live comfortably on the meagre salary paid to the overworked staff nurses in the hospitals.
After what seemed a long time, Grace raised her small head. Her black hair, previously tied in a bun, was loose and her make-up, which added four years to her eighteen, was gone. Now she looked her age – a teenager.
With a shaking hand, she wiped her eyes, blew her little nose and said tremulously in her native dialect, ‘I’m sorry, Tunji, I didn’t mean to make a nuisance of myself. But here I am, alone.’
‘So, he wouldn’t come, eh?’ He moved in his seat, trying to find a more recumbent position.
‘He’s very busy, Tunji. He just can’t find the time.’ Grace raised her small slim foot, shod in a low-heeled black sandal.
‘He sure did before it happened though.’ He emitted a long sigh of satisfaction as he settled in his seat. For some time he looked at the scene outside, through the French window, a scene peculiar to Surulere – elegant, modern houses bordering a wide cul-de-sac, refuse-ridden and with pools of dirty water here and there. ‘Come now, Grace. Why must you tell me lies? You don’t need to defend a cad like him. He wouldn’t come?’
‘No,’ Grace said faintly, twisting her wet handkerchief in her long fingers, ‘typing fingers’, her instructor at the Commercial School had called them.
‘He hasn’t got the money to pay …?’
‘No, not that. I offered to pay but he said …’ She burst into tears again as that moment flashed through her mind. ‘Please Tunji …’ she said between sobs, ‘please help … help me … I … I didn’t know … didn’t know Joe was … like that … I … I wouldn’t have … have let him … Oh God …’
Tunji continued to stare at something above her head, uttering neither a word of promise nor consolation. But he was touched all right, and at that moment he wondered what he would do if he found his own daughter in the same predicament. Would he cast her out? Disown her? He thought he would not take it too badly. It didn’t matter too much these days.
‘I’m sorry,’ Grace said, pulling herself together. ‘I suppose you think it’s entirely my fault. Well, I can’t deny it, can I? But, please, please, Tunji, help me. Save me from disgrace. I’ll pay.’
‘What of your mother, does she know you’re here?’ Tunji asked.
‘No, she doesn’t, she hasn’t the time.’
Tunji raised his thin brows. ‘My dear girl,’ he thought, ‘you seem to be with only those who have no time for you. No wonder … no wonder.’
‘Then what about your father?’
‘He died four years ago in a motor accident.’
So that was why she had stopped schooling at a very early age. Suddenly, he felt compassion for this girl. His mind was made up. He would help her, and just charge her the normal fee, that would get him the radio he needed so much.
‘How long have you had this thing?’
‘Two and half months, I think.’
‘You’re not sure?’
‘No.’
‘Hm.’
It was already dusk. Before long it would be dark. From outside came the roar of evening traffic on Western Avenue, that narrow death-trap of a road!
‘Won’t your mother be worried about you?’
‘No!’ she said. ‘Her men friends take up all her time. She couldn’t even spare the money to send me to college!’
There was a pause, and in his mind’s eye, Tunji could see an attractive but not well-educated young woman, suddenly deprived of a supporter and frantically looking for a substitute.
‘My fee is thirty pounds.’
‘Oh,’ Grace shouted. ‘But why so high?’ she asked frantically.
‘Because it’s up to two and a half months and at that, you’re not even sure. It makes it terribly risky.’
She was silent for some time, her face puckered in a frown. ‘I see. You’re sure you’ll succeed?’
‘One can always try. It’s better than not trying at all!’
‘I don’t care about that. All I care is that it be removed. When will you do it?’
‘Now, if you’re ready.’
‘I am.’
*
‘Why did you do it, Grace? Why, why? You’ve made me the laughing stock of the neighbourhood. Won’t you talk, you ungrateful girl! Cheap, that’s what you are. And where is this boyfriend of yours? I bet you’ll never see him again,’ her mother sneered.
Without saying a word, Grace drew the bed sheet up to her ears, and turned her back on her mother. Hate filled her little body, making her oblivious to her pain, and for once in her life she wished she were a man.
‘You may turn away from me,’ came her mother’s shrill voice. ‘You can burrow into the ground, if you like, but you will hear me out. You’ve shamed your family. You should have told me or at least had the guts to see the seed of your sin. After all, you did it with your eyes open. But no! You never had the courage anyway. Always sneaking out when my back was turned, pretending you were going to see your girlfriends! And why didn’t you aim high? Of course, you have no ambition. Just like your father! You had to fall for a clerk, a third-class clerk who can’t even afford a bicycle, let alone maintain you. Yes, cheap. I say cheap, that’s you. Dirt, dirt, dirt!’ she shouted.
‘Mother, leave me alone!’ shrieked Grace. ‘Leave me alone, mother!’
‘Why should I?’ she screamed peevishly, as a nurse rushed into the partitioned room and gently but firmly led her out.
‘I am afraid, Mrs Lawanson, you must leave now. You excite our patient,’ said the nurse.
‘Ungrateful children of this age! They will burn in hell!’ muttered Mrs Lawanson as she left.
The nurse gave Grace a sedative to put her to sleep, but before the drug took effect she kept asking how she got to the hospital. All she could remember was the searing, red-hot pain that had divided her into two in Tunji’s little dark ‘surgery’ and the sight of her blood surging out like the waters of a dam whose gates were broken down.
Two days later two plain clothes detectives came to the hospital and asked Grace a series of questions about her condition. Pretending knowledge of what had happened they insisted on knowing the name and address of the person who had performed the operation on her. Grace listened through their demanding threats but told them nothing. At that time she did not care what happened to her. She had lost all taste for life. The men had gone away as ignorant as they had come.
After that, a young doctor came to see her. He was in charge of her case and even though he was not on duty, he came to see how she was getting along. She was touched in spite of herself. He looked so handsome and suave.
‘I see you’re getting much better,’ he said, smiling, ‘but not as fast as I would have liked. Don’t you like it here?’
‘It’s all right.’
‘Do you think you’ll feel well enough to be discharged in two days’ time?’
She kept quiet. The doctor sat on the edge of her narrow bed and took her thin right hand in his.
‘How old are you?’ he asked.
‘Twenty-four.’
Again, he smiled his queer smile. ‘I don’t believe you. You look more like eighteen.’ Gently, he stroked her hand.
‘I feel like forty-eight,’ she said, pulling away her hand, but not before she felt her blood flow into her veins for the first time since she saw it flow out at Tunji’s ‘surgery’. It hurt like a limb coming back to life. She pulled the bed cover up to her chin, smiled wanly and said, ‘You don’t look more than twenty yourself.’
‘As a matter of fact, I’m twenty-seven.’
She said nothing but closed and opened her eyes. Right inside, she had a vague feeling she had met this doctor before, somewhere. The clipped way he had said ‘fact’ sounded so familiar.
‘You feeling sleepy?’
‘No. Tell me how I got here.’
He hesitated. ‘A taxi driver brought you here. Said a man, whom he couldn’t describe, had stopped him, put you into the taxi, paid a pound and told him to drive you to the hospital. Luckily, I was on my rounds then. I must say you were in a very bad shape. Won’t you tell me who did it to you? … Well, I’ll be getting along. I’ll come again tomorrow morning.’
‘Doctor, tell me …’
‘Yes?’
‘How did you guess my age?’ She needn’t have asked that question. A flash of remembrance had cleared a little darkness. What a fool she was.
He was one of her mother’s regulars! The realization stiffened her, shattered the newly found urge to live. Tonight, or some time, she thought, he would go to her mother to obtain payment for being so kind and for giving her daughter the VIP treatment of a private room.
Tight-lipped Grace said, ‘Don’t ever come to see me again, ever!’
*
Although she was getting better, Grace steadily grew thinner. She grew worse and withdrew into herself, speaking hardly to anyone. Her mother called once in the next week, but Grace gave her the cold shoulder. The doctor dared not try to talk to her, let alone touch her. He said she had lost the will to live, to fight on.
One night, after Grace had been in the hospital a fortnight, a new nurse came on duty in her ward. She was young, delicate, and had that sad look that made one want to talk to her and dispel her gloom. At about midnight, she heard Grace turning about on her bed and so came into her room.
‘May I bring you something that’ll help you sleep?’ she asked.
‘No. Just leave me alone. Why should it bother you whether I sleep or not?’
The nurse sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘Why do you sound so bitter? I’m just trying to help. Look, Grace, you don’t need to take on so. Your having had this thing doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world.’
‘Please, I want to sleep.’
‘All right, if that’s how you feel.’
She left the room but when she returned to check up two hours later, she found Grace still awake.
‘Look at me, Grace,’ she said, snapping on the light and sitting on the bed. ‘How old do you think I am?’
There was a long pause. Grace said, ‘I don’t know.’
‘Don’t I look almost like you except maybe I’m taller?’ the nurse said, trying to draw her out.
Another long pause, then Grace said, ‘Yes.’
‘Well, I’m twenty and what has happened to you now happened to me four years ago. I had an abortion when I was sixteen!’
‘You’re joking.’
‘I’m not. Do you know I was brought into this hospital just like you? And for the six weeks I stayed here lying critically ill, not once did my parents or my boyfriend come to see me?’
‘But … but …’
‘Call me Julie. Yes, at that time too, I didn’t care; and I didn’t want to live. You’re luckier than I was. I was three months gone before I even knew what was happening and by the time I got somebody to do it for me, it must have been four months. I was put in the open ward and yet after all I went through my parents promptly disowned me. I’m sure you know them, Chief and Mrs Okomo.’
‘Oh yes,’ cried Grace, propping herself up, now slightly woken out of her cocoon. ‘Yes, I think I heard about you. You know, I was thinking where I had heard your name before. But your parents said you were dead!’
Julie switched off the light and continued. ‘Well, I suppose to them I was dead.’
‘Tell me, Julie,’ Grace’s voice came from the gloom. ‘Didn’t the police do anything to you?’
‘They tried, but since I wouldn’t talk they let me off. After that, I took up nursing.’
‘Have you ever seen that boyfriend of yours since?’
‘Once or twice, and each time I asked myself why I fell for him that time.’
‘What made you decide to go on living after the operation?’
‘Oh, that is a long story which I’ll tell you tomorrow night. But the main thing, I think, was when I watched a young woman die on the bed next to mine. That brought me face to face with death, and I didn’t like it one little bit.’
They fell silent, each with her own thoughts.
A little while later, Julie heard the regular breathing of Grace in sleep. Quietly she got up and tiptoed out of the room.