The girl took her shot, potted the ball in the corner, looked up at her opponent and noticed he had not being watching. He was eyeing someone behind and licking his upper lip with the tip of his tongue. Still laying flat on the table, cue still in hand, she looked to see who it was.
Funke disturbed some balls on the cushion as she got up, then she tossed her cue stick onto the table, sending more balls in motion, and walked towards the bar.
Amaka turned in her stool and crossed her arms on the cold marble counter. When Funke climbed onto the empty stool next to her, she looked the other way.
‘Aunty, what are you doing here?’ Funke said, half-whispering. From the corner of her eyes she glanced over Amaka’s clothes. ‘What happened?’
‘I was robbed,’ Amaka said. ‘How are you?’
‘Oh God. What did they take?’
‘My bag. The stuff inside it. Don’t worry about me. Are you OK?’
‘Yes. You mean, about him? Did it work?’
‘Yes. Thank you, Funke.’
‘When I didn’t hear from you, I was afraid that maybe he knew I set him up.’
‘No, he doesn’t. Has he called you again?’
‘No. Not since then. He sent a message that I am an ingrate. I just ignored him, like you said. Foolish man.’
‘I’m so sorry I got you mixed up in all this.’
‘Ah, no o, aunty. With everything you have done for me? And after what he did to that girl, I swear I will do anything to make sure he gets what he deserves. Evil man.’
‘Thanks. If he calls you, tell him you’re out of town. Stay away from him, and warn your friends, too.’
‘Am I stupid? After you showed me those pictures. Maybe that is what he wanted to do to me too. You still won’t tell me what you’re planning to do with him?’
‘It’s better you don’t know. For your own safety. Funke, I need your help.’
‘What is it, aunty?’
‘I need a smartphone, a new SIM card, 5K credit, and thirty thousand naira.’
‘When?’
‘Now.’
Funke stared at Amaka a while, then her face lit with purpose. ‘I’m coming,’ she said and she hopped off the stool.
Amaka watched Funke walk back to the pool table. Her former opponent was racking up the balls to play a new game with another girl. Funke walked up to two girls and spoke to them, and as the two walked away, Funke walked up to another group of girls.
Twenty minutes later Funke returned to the bar and sat next to Amaka. She had a Nokia phone and a charger, and a crumpled black cellophane bag wrapped around a little parcel. She placed the items on the bar top. The phone had a thin lateral crack curving across the screen, and the charger had a European plug. She opened the cellophane bag and brought out a bundle of notes in different denominations and handed them all to Amaka.
‘Forty thousand,’ she said.
‘I only need thirty,’ Amaka said.
‘Don’t worry,’ Funke said. She reached into the bag and fetched a new SIM pack and several airtime scratch cards. She got the SIM card out and inserted it into the phone, and held down the button to switch on the device. ‘Aunty, what are you drinking?’ She asked.
While the waiter fetched Amaka a glass of neat Remy Martin VSOP, Funke began to tear open each scratch card packet, using her long red nail to scratch off the panel and review the code, and load the airtime credit onto the phone.
Amaka memorised the new phone number on the back of the SIM pack. Funke handed her the phone and she handed the SIM pack to the girl.
‘This is the new number to use,’ Amaka said. ‘Tell the girls and tell them to tell their friends. The old number doesn’t work anymore. At least not tonight.’
Funke nodded.
Amaka placed a hand on Funke’s shoulder. ‘Thank you again, Funke. For this and for everything else.’
Funke looked away as her eyes clouded over. She leaned forward and put her arms round Amaka. The two women hugged in silence while Wizkid serenaded the crowd around them.