They returned to Lagos right after the wedding, one sunny afternoon in March. The roads were deserted. Soldiers toting long guns speckled the streets. It was a Wednesday, and it was as if everyone had packed their chaos and left. This strange, grave orderliness was not the Lagos she had come to know.
Tobe’s new gateman, a young dark-skinned boy who looked as if he should be in school, threw open the gates, and then he rushed over to greet them as Tobe rolled to a stop in front of the house. ‘Oga, madam! Una welcome o,’ he said. His forehead was wide and curved and took up half of his face, and when he bowed in greeting again, Ogadinma thought his skull was shaped like a mango.
‘Ehen, Kunle, how are you?’ Tobe asked him.
Kunle bowed and grinned again. ‘I dey fine, sir!’
Ogadinma had been to his house often but the mere expansiveness of the one-storey structure, with its tiled front yard that was wide enough to contain another house, the coconut trees that dotted the sides, the flower beds with blooming, colourful beauties whose names she did not know, still left her dazed.
Tobe slung a hand over her shoulder and led her to the front door. ‘We will get the bags later,’ he said. Ogadinma was dizzy; she could not yet believe that this had become her home. When she thought of home, it was the flat she lived in with her father. Not this sprawling house, this astonishing marker of wealth.
Tobe opened the door. Trapped dank air rushed out, carrying the smell of dust and paint. Everything was covered in a film of dust – the dining table, the shelves holding the TV, the side tables, the centre table and the flower vase. The same brown film covered the floor of the passage that connected the rooms, the kitchen, the bathroom. Tobe stood in the passage, hands on hips.
‘We have so much work to do.’
He pulled her close to his chest, rubbed his hands over her stomach, down between her legs, cupped her breasts. He led her into the connecting room, whispering things but she could not comprehend his sentences because her knees had gone weak and her breath came in gasps. She was thinking, how glorious this feels, when he kissed her and she tasted his wet tongue. The floor was giving away under her feet. They were floating on the bed. He was hovering above her. It was like a dream. But when he pulled up her dress and parted her legs, the memories of Barrister Chima forced themselves into her mind, so sharp. She explored the angles of Tobe’s body, running her hands over the length of his back, willing the sad memories away, but they did not leave.
And when Tobe climaxed and collapsed against her breasts, she shut her eyes and wrapped her arms around his body.