Where Women are Kings

by Christie Watson

  ‘Of course he wet the bed,’ said Obi. ‘And, incidentally, I have to remind you that Chanel told me you wet the bed until you were ten.’ He laughed. ‘And you were scared of the dark. She said you had to have the landing light on otherwise you’d cry all night.’

  Nikki smiled in the darkness. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘I was a nightmare.’

  ‘Exactly. Look at all our friends’ kids. Tia bites; she nearly bit another child’s nose off at nursery – he had to have stitches. Frankie has A.D.H.D. and hasn’t slept since he was born and, as for Jasmin, don’t get me started!’

  ‘Hey! That’s our niece. There’s nothing wrong with her!’

  ‘Well, with Chanel as a mother, she’s come off pretty lightly but still …’

  Nikki punched Obi’s arm. He winced and pretended to cry, rubbing his eyes and shaking his shoulders. ‘That will be the day when you cry!’

  He dropped his hands and grinned. Nikki looked at his face, his strong jaw, perfect eyebrows. ‘We need to introduce them to Elijah. They’re desperate to meet him. I was hoping to stall them for a week or so but Chanel keeps phoning.’

  ‘I know. Daddy’s done really well not to pop in but I’m not sure we’ll manage to keep him away much longer.’

  ‘Elijah’s so lovely, isn’t he?’ said Nikki. She thought of his eyes and the way he smiled using only his mouth, the softness of his skin and how she was desperate to hold him but scared it would be too much and too soon.

  ‘He’s brilliant. He’s continuing his therapy with Chioma. It’s good that they’ll carry that on, to get him settled.’

  Nikki closed her eyes. Family therapy. Wet beds. Scars. It wasn’t how she’d imagined things, but she had to believe Obi was right. Elijah was theirs and resilient and wonderful. She was a mum at last and Obi was a dad. That’s how they had to look at it, even though it was such early days. She held Obi close until the alarm shook her fully awake.

  *

  Chanel phoned as usual first thing in the morning. It was their third morning with Elijah. This wasn’t a visit. Elijah was home. Nikki took the phone to the living room. ‘Can we come over? Please, we can’t wait any longer!’

  Nikki laughed. ‘Not yet. Give him a chance. I promise it won’t be long, Chanel.’

  ‘Can’t you put him in front of the window then? Or at least text me some photos. I need his exact size, as well, and shoe size. We’re going to the shops today.’

  ‘Please, please don’t buy him anything. Chanel, I know you mean well but let him settle in, please …’

  ‘How are you coping? Are you feeling weird? It must be so strange …’

  ‘It’s a bit strange at times. He’s wet the bed. And he got upset – I got upset – when I saw all the scars on his body. He has so many. But it’s like it was always meant to be.’

  ‘What colour is he?’

  ‘What do you mean, what colour is he?’

  ‘Well, is he as dark as Obi? Darker? Lighter? He looked really, really dark in the photo you showed us, and I need to know if he’ll take neon. I’m going to Westfield later and I’ve seen a few bits—’

  ‘I’m going now, Chanel,’ said Nikki. She hung up the receiver and looked through her curtain. Chanel was standing in the flat opposite their house, wearing her leopard-print dressing gown and what looked like a shower cap, the phone next to her ear. Nikki breathed slowly and found herself smiling, imagining Chanel holding up a thousand different boys’ outfits and Jasmin rolling her eyes at every single one.

  When Nikki came back into the kitchen, Elijah was high in the air. ‘Put him down, Daddy, please.’ Nikki laughed and put the phone down before holding her hands up towards the space where her father-in-law held Elijah above his head. ‘He’s not a baby.’

  ‘Please,’ she said, towards Obi, who finally looked up from his newspaper.

  ‘She’s right, Dad.’ Obi’s voice was calm and clear, as usual, and his dad put Elijah straight down. Elijah wobbled a little when his feet touched the ground and he reached out for the chair. He was smiling broadly and looking up at Daddy. Daddy wore Nigerian clothes as usual, beautifully bright, and reminding Nikki of a flower in the kitchen.

  ‘Little grandson,’ Daddy said, softly. ‘You are such a strong boy.’ He turned to Nikki, screwed his nose up. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Anyway, he’s not crying.’ He reached towards Elijah, put his hand on his face and stroked his cheek. ‘I was so excited and happy that I couldn’t hold it in.’ He laughed. ‘I’ve been waiting a long time for a grandchild to spoil.’

  ‘He’s not crying because he’s a tough cookie,’ said Obi, putting his hand on Daddy’s arm. He looked at Nikki, eyes sparkling. ‘But we need to let him settle in a bit, don’t we, Elijah? It’s early days. Your third proper morning and all this fuss!’ Obi stood in front of Elijah and dropped to his knees, making their eyes level. He smiled with such certainty that Elijah’s shoulders relaxed. Nikki watched them, father and son, and felt her heart beat faster. It was the best feeling – almost better than holding Elijah herself. Obi would be such a good parent. She felt her eyes sting with tears, and smiled at herself. She was so emotional. Being a new adoptive mum was like being any new mum, her feelings seemed enhanced as if she was full of unstable hormones.

  Elijah looked up with his wide eyes at Obi and Daddy. He was such a handsome boy, just like his photograph.

  ‘Come, sit next to Granddad. We’ll eat breakfast together.’ Daddy patted the chair next to him and Elijah sat down. Nikki raised her eyebrows at Daddy. She wondered if Elijah would call him Granddad. So far, Elijah had only called them Nikki and Obi, but she wasn’t upset about it. It felt strange calling herself Mum. When Nikki thought of Mum she imagined a baby crying. An image of Ify shot through her head suddenly – gold-specked eyes wide open, toffee skin and spiral curls – and she pushed it away.

  ‘You don’t have to call me Granddad,’ Daddy continued, winking at Nikki. ‘But you can if you want to. My name is Ozoemena – Ozo – which is an Igbo name, and my parents called me that because my brother died before I was born and my name means, “May it never happen again.” Every name in Igbo culture has an important meaning.’

  Elijah looked straight in front of him. ‘Your brother died?’ he whispered.

  Daddy shrugged. ‘Don’t worry yourself too much, Elijah. I was born hundreds of years ago; in fact, I don’t even know my true age as I have no birth certificate. And back in the old days, when I was born, many children did not survive childhood; the hessian mat that women gave birth on was only washed if it produced a death, as women were giving birth all the time. These days things are very different. Better, and worse. Anyway, tell me about your name. Elijah is a beautiful name.’

  Elijah blinked slowly. ‘My name is in the Bible,’ he said. ‘Elijah brought fire down from the sky. He was a prophet.’

  ‘Igbo names are the best,’ said Daddy. ‘But Bible names are the second best. I’m really glad that you know the Bible so well.’

  There was quiet around the table for too many seconds but, despite trying to think of something, anything, to say, all Nikki thought of was Elijah’s history – what Ricardo had told them. There was a fire in his previous foster placement and some uncertainty about what caused it. But now we believe that Elijah was involved.

  Nikki watched Elijah’s unblinking eyes. She’d only known him a few days and yet she was certain that he’d never harm anyone. Social workers got so many things wrong, and Obi was always right. Of course it had shocked her when Elijah had looked at her so coldly, pushed her away. But he was terrified. Elijah only needed love and he would thrive. ‘Do you want some pancakes?’ she asked.

  Elijah looked up at her. ‘Yes, please,’ he whispered. There was no way that this innocent boy could have been involved with starting fires. Nikki saw his character clearly: kind, loving, but frightened. And she could help him. Already he seemed to be settling in. He hadn’t wet the bed last night and, when she went in to wake him up, he’d reached out
to her on his way to the bathroom. It was only a second of touch, but he’d come to her, rested his hand on her arm.

  She poured syrup on top of two pancakes. He ate quickly, not looking up until his plate was clean, and that made her happy. He was too skinny, with knees the widest part of his legs, and ribs you could see. Nikki thought of holding him, of how fragile he’d feel in her arms, how much she wanted to hold him. The hand on her arm was only the start.

  ‘I have been so looking forward to meeting you,’ said Daddy, reaching for the coffee and dropping in sugar cube after sugar cube. ‘I’m going to teach you all about Nigeria, about your own culture. We have one of the richest cultures in the world, with some of the best literature, food, music. Of course, you’ll need time to settle in, but I know it’s going to be so wonderful. I’ve always wanted a grandson, my whole life.’ Daddy’s eyes were shining so it was impossible not to smile. He looked ten years younger.

  Elijah smiled and looked up at Daddy the whole time. ‘I never had a Granddad before,’ he said.

  *

  Obi was downstairs next morning when she padded down in her slippers and dressing gown, and Elijah was already sitting at the table, watching Obi. They were laughing. ‘Good morning,’ said Obi, kissing her as she walked past.

  ‘Good morning.’ She smiled, looking over his shoulder at the pan of porridge, which was bubbling on the stove.

  She sat next to Elijah and he suddenly stood up and moved his chair closer to hers so that their arms were touching. ‘Could you be any closer?’ Obi asked. ‘Not that I blame you. Nikki does look very snuggly in that dressing gown.’

  ‘Shall we go outside for a walk after breakfast? Show Elijah around the sights and sounds of the park and shops?’

  Elijah moved away. ‘Yes, please,’ he said. ‘I love going for walks.’

  ‘So do I,’ said Nikki. She looked at Obi. The air seemed to brighten between them. Obi turned to fill his bowl.

  Nikki winked at Elijah and spoke to Obi’s back. ‘Are you coming with us, lazy bones?’

  Obi turned around with a porridge spoon in his hand. ‘Are you calling me lazy?’ he said. ‘Was she calling me lazy?’ he asked Elijah. He wagged the spoon, and a large glob of porridge fell on to the front of his shirt. Elijah giggled.

  *

  Elijah swung between their hands as they walked, taking in the park, the pond, the ducks, the bus stop, the school where he’d be going. He stopped every few hundred yards and looked up at the sky, or picked up a stone and rubbed it between his finger and thumb, ran the palm of his hand over a bush, smelt the swollen-headed roses that spilled from the front gardens. She’d been told about his love of nature and animals but to see how he really enjoyed life was a surprise. It made everything seem fresh and clear to Nikki, as though she were looking at the world through his eyes.

  She noticed people smiling at them. The woman in the bakery gave Elijah an extra doughnut. They were a good-looking family, Nikki realised. ‘Cute as a button,’ the woman said to Elijah.

  Nikki held Elijah’s hand as they went into the newsagent’s. His skin was hot and slightly wet. She felt fiercely protective of him, with his slight frame and huge eyes. She realised she loved him already, within days, how she’d kill anyone who hurt him.

  ‘Who are you, handsome boy?’ A woman Nikki recognised was in front of them in the queue – a neighbour from the next street, stocky with wispy hair that had been cut badly. ‘Who are you?’ she repeated, looking at Elijah.

  At first Nikki ignored her neighbour and tried to distract Elijah by pointing out the Spiderman comic. ‘Do you want one?’ she asked while she smiled, tight-lipped to the woman. It was none of this woman’s business who Elijah was. Part of Nikki knew that the woman was just curious – friendly, even – but another part was ready, suddenly, to attack.

  ‘What a handsome boy,’ the woman said, looking at Obi. ‘Is he family come to stay with you?’ Nikki had known people would talk. After all, a white woman didn’t suddenly give birth to a black child of seven. Still, she wished people would mind their own business.

  Obi smiled and handed over some coins for the newspapers. He looked down at Elijah. ‘He’s my son,’ he said.

  ‘Ours,’ Nikki said, finding courage in Elijah’s hand.

  ‘Of course,’ she said, looking again at Obi, turning her head from Nikki. ‘He looks exactly like you.’

  ELEVEN

  ‘Baby!’ Jasmin said, and then she poked her tongue out and ran away, her ponytail jumping up and down on her head. Elijah couldn’t take his eyes off her. He’d never seen anyone so small and fierce-looking, with such big eyes.

  They were in the garden and Elijah had been playing catch with Nikki when the doorbell rang and she’d come back outside shouting, ‘Elijah! Chanel and Jasmin are here to say hello.’ Elijah had looked up at the sky and felt his heart tapping, and suddenly heard a whispering. You contain such evil, the world is not safe. He pushed the wizard down by breathing like Chioma had taught him to whenever he felt frightened. He clenched his fists, unclenched them and wiggled his toes and tapped his cheek with his fingertip. His breathing slowed. He was in control. The wizard was still. He looked through the kitchen window at Obi’s Nigerian face and Nikki’s, covered in freckles. I might be safe here, he thought.

  ‘Come back here, Jasmin! That’s not nice, is it?’ Her mother was tall and had a pair of giant sunglasses on top of her head. ‘Look at you! I’m your Aunty Chanel,’ she said, shaking Elijah’s hand so hard his whole body shook. She knelt down to get a closer look at him and he got a closer look at her. He’d seen a photograph of Aunty Chanel standing next to Nikki, but in the photograph she’d been wearing a rain jacket and had white skin and no make-up. In real life she was strange looking. She had bright orange skin, the colour of a tangerine, which smelt of swimming pools. On top of her eyes were two butterflies. She looked like a woman in a fashion magazine where they’d printed the colours wrong, or it had been raining and the colours got all mixed up. She wore a lot of make-up and her face and neck did not match.

  ‘What a handsome boy! So gorgeous! Like a mini supermodel.’ She flicked her head at Nikki and they shared a smile, then turned her head back to Elijah. ‘You’re a cool dude. Jay-Z! Oh my God, you look exactly like a young Jay-Z!’

  ‘Chanel!’ Nikki tutted and moved over to them, pulling Elijah backwards towards her. ‘Really!’

  ‘What? I’m just pointing out to my little gangsta rapper here how coolio he is.’

  Nikki took a breath so suddenly that Elijah heard the air travel into her mouth. She put her face next to Aunty Chanel’s ear and hissed, ‘Chanel, stop it!’

  Aunty Chanel rolled her eyes.

  Nikki looked at Aunty Chanel for a long time, then she turned to Elijah and smiled. ‘Why don’t you go and play with Jasmin?’ she said, and pointed over to the other end of the garden where Jasmin had run and was already on the swing, swinging really fast. Elijah had lots of questions, like why Chanel was wearing butterflies, and why her skin was orange, and why she was calling him J.C. (which is what Mama sometimes called Jesus Christ). But Nikki pushed him gently towards Jasmin and so he walked away.

  As he turned around, Chanel was blowing a big bubble from bubblegum and it popped on her face and she laughed. Elijah had never seen an adult pop bubblegum. Aunty Chanel was wearing a pair of jeans that had been cut into shorts, but whoever cut them hadn’t done a very good job as the edges were all squiggly and the pockets hung down. Elijah wasn’t very good at cutting but he could have done a better job than that. Maybe Jasmin cut the jeans for her mum.

  Aunty Chanel threw her arm around Nikki. ‘He’s a miracle,’ she said. ‘So gorgeous and no sleepless nights! I might adopt, myself, next time.’

  Nikki smiled at Elijah.

  Elijah walked slowly towards the swing at the other end of the garden, taking deep breaths on the way. The wizard was walking around inside him again. He looked at Jasmin swinging against the sky, scattering birds above h
er against a cloud, her ponytail whooshing. Jasmin swung her legs really high and kicked out with each swing. She was so high but she didn’t look scared at all. Elijah kept his eyes on her swishing brown ponytail but he could see her face underneath it, her round cheeks, big, dark-brown eyes and the small jumping skin at the side of her eye.

  ‘Jasmin, sweetie, play with Jay-Z!’ Aunty Chanel burst into laughter. ‘Come on, Jasmin; remember what we talked about.’

  Elijah felt his face get hot. Everyone talked about him. She probably knew Elijah wasn’t allowed to live with Mama any more. Suddenly Jasmin stopped swinging her legs and jumped from really high up, straight on to the grass. She looked at Elijah, then grabbed his hand and pulled him to the plastic swingball set, where she put a plastic racket in his fist and raised the ball high, before letting it drop down. Elijah tried to hit it back but the wizard was laughing at him inside his tummy. It was loud enough that he felt sure Jasmin could hear it, but she didn’t say anything. The ball flew between them, bouncing off their rackets without them having to move much. Elijah could hear Aunty Chanel making barking sounds then laughing loudly. She mooed like a cow then shouted out, ‘Did anyone see any animals in the garden? I can hear farmyard animals.’

  Jasmin tutted and hit the ball really hard. ‘I hate her,’ she said, looking at Aunty Chanel.

  Elijah gasped. Jasmin’s face was crunched up, angry.

  ‘She won’t let me live in America with my dad. And she always tries to put me in scratchy dresses and she says the same thing about a hundred times. It’s so embarrassing.’ Jasmin opened her mouth, poked her tongue at the house then put her tongue back in and grinned. One of her teeth was missing. She noticed Elijah staring at it and shut her mouth quickly. ‘There’s a girl in my class who has fourteen plastic ponies. She’s totally crazy and her toenails are painted purple. She’s not my best friend. She told my mum that there was a bubblegum at the bottom of my ice cream and my mum took it away and said I was too young and ate it herself! She used to be my best friend, but not any more.’