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Making Scandal (The Essien Trilogy, #2)

Page 13

by Kiru Taye


  "Anyway, I have loads to do over here. So maybe next time."

  "Sure. Next time."

  She moved to the front of the queue. "Mark, I’m going to have to call you back. I need to check in."

  "Sure. I’ll give you fifteen minutes and I’ll call you back," he said and hung up.

  Getting through check in didn’t take too long since she only had the carry-on luggage. On the other side, she walked to the lounge and found a space to sit that wasn’t already crowded.

  It certainly beat doing the three hour drive from Lagos to Benin, on a good day. A few years ago she used to take the luxury coaches to Benin and back. When she bought her first car, she drove the distance. These days, she could afford the air fare, so she preferred taking the one hour flight.

  True to his word, Mark called her back.

  "So tell me why you’re making an unplanned trip to Benin?" he asked as soon as she’d picked up.

  Mark was one of the most direct men she’d ever known. He never sugar-coated anything.

  "I told you already, my brother called to tell me that my mum was not feeling well," she replied.

  "But you mentioned she wasn’t in hospital. So what exactly is wrong with her?"

  "I don’t really know. It could be malaria, for all I know. I’ve already sent money for her to see a doctor. But I still want to go and see her. I haven’t visited them for a few months." She travelled home less often these days.

  "I hope it’s nothing serious and she gets better before you get there."

  "Thank you."

  "And if it is something serious, let me know as soon as you find out. If she needs to come to a hospital in Lagos, I know some very good doctors that will take care of her."

  A fist squeezed her heart and tears stung her eyes. Mark’s compassion in wanting her mother to get well was one thing. But his generosity in going out of his way to take care of a woman who wasn’t his responsibility touched her in a place no other person had reached in a very long time.

  The words choked in her throat as she dug for tissue in her bag to dab at her eyes so she didn’t smear her mascara all over her face and look like a panda.

  "You don’t have to do that," she said in a choked voice, considering she hadn’t told him much about her family—she’d always avoided talking about them whenever he’d asked, and he’d never pressed her for more, of which she was grateful.

  "But I want to. Seriously, let me know if there’s anything I can do as soon as you get there, so I can get the ball rolling before I head off to New York tomorrow."

  "Okay. I will. Thank you, but I hope it’ll be something minor."

  "I hope it’s nothing serious, too."

  "So, what are you going to do with yourself while I’m gone all weekend?" she asked in a teasing tone to change the subject from her family. Still shaky grounds for her, that topic.

  "I don’t know. Isn’t it interesting that since we started hanging out regularly over the weekend, nothing else seems to matter but just being with you?"

  She smiled. He really did know how to butter up her ego.

  "I guess I’m just going to have an even longer workout at the gym to use up all this energy that I’ve been piling up all week. It’s going to be one long weekend."

  She laughed out loud and lowered her voice when people stared at her.

  "Perhaps I should call Wumi and find out if she’s available for a game of tennis."

  "Wumi?" Alarm bells went off in her head. "Why do you want to play tennis with her?"

  "We used to play tennis regularly on Saturdays with some other friends. That was before you." He said it as if there was nothing wrong with that. "She’s probably got other playing partners, anyway, so she won’t be available. But you don’t mind, do you? It’s just tennis."

  She wanted to scream, ‘hell, no!’ But that would have been so jealously childish. He’d promised her there was nothing going on between him and Wumi, and in the time they’d been seeing each other, she’d had no reason to think there was. All his spare time had been spent with her. So why should she have a problem with him playing tennis with Wumi?

  But the image of Wumi hanging on his arm throughout that party in Johannesburg stayed in her head. Wumi still wanted Mark and would seize any opportunity to be with him. But Faith needed to trust Mark. He wouldn’t cheat on her with the woman.

  "Of course, you can play tennis with Wumi," she said and tried not to choke on her own words. It took all she had to keep a casual tone. "It’s just tennis, and I don’t want it to seem like I’m keeping you away from your friends."

  He laughed. "They already think that you keep me away from them. Apart from the occasional event that I attend and my catch up time with my family, the only other person outside business I spend time with is you."

  "What? You’ve told your friends about me?" Blood drained from her head as she panicked. "You promised to keep it a secret," she nearly shouted at him.

  "Of course not," he countered. "I promised you I wouldn’t tell anyone about us. I mean, Felix and Ebony already know. But I would never betray you like that."

  She heaved a sigh of relief. "Sorry. For one horrid moment, my imagination ran away with me."

  "I still don’t understand why we need to sneak around like school children. We are two consenting adults and should be able to do whatever we want."

  She understood his frustration but he knew that their secret getting out would be a deal breaker for her.

  "I told you I don’t want it affecting my professional life. I really don’t want to rehash this, Mark."

  He heaved a frustrated sigh. "Oh, well. I guess I’m just irritated I won’t see you for a few days, perhaps for over a week."

  Her flight was called on the tannoy, interrupting their conversation.

  "If it helps, I will miss you," she said and shook her head. When did she become so soppy?

  "It helps."

  She could hear the smile in his voice. "I’ve got to board my flight now. I’ll call you when I get there."

  "So, do I get a kiss?"

  His sign-off signature whenever they spoke on the phone. While she didn’t mind doing it in the privacy of her home, she’d rather not blow a kiss in a very public venue like an airport.

  "Mark, I’m at an airport lounge," she whispered.

  "I know, but I still want my kiss."

  She glanced around the room. People milled around, preparing to board their flights.

  "Faith Brown, I want my kiss, otherwise, I’m boarding the next flight out to Benin to come and get it in person."

  She gasped. "You wouldn’t!"

  "You know better than to dare me," he replied with what sounded like a smirk.

  She did know better. After all, he was the same man who had kissed her at the party in Johannesburg, the first night they’d met! He had no problems with public displays or taking what he wanted. And the last thing she wanted was him turning up in Benin. She wasn’t ready for the fallout that would follow such an event.

  "Okay. Okay." She turned her back on the crowd and stepped away, cupping her hand around the mouthpiece of the phone. "Muah!"

  "Muah to you, too, sweetheart," he said in a husky voice. "Have a safe flight."

  Their conversation stayed with her as she boarded the flight and even after the plane had levelled out in the sky. The sense of euphoria remained until the pilot announced they would be landing shortly. Knots of anxiety then tied her stomach.

  As they disembarked, she caught herself twisting her watch around. She always did that when anxious. She huffed out an annoyed breath that, at the age of twenty-nine and as successful as she was professionally, she still got nervous about seeing her parents.

  She blanked her mind, refusing to think about it, and focused instead on finding a taxi to take her to her parents’ house. As the car drove through the city, she mused about how the place hadn’t changed much from the one she grew up in, another indicator of the things to come.

  Compared
to the twenty-four-seven bustle of Lagos, Benin provided a more laid-back approach. Leafy and sedate, the city's huge draw was its cultural heritage as the heart of the ancient Benin Empire, a Kingdom that existed between 1440 and 1897. Some people confused it with the country of Benin formerly known as Dahomey.

  "Eten, Faith," Odion shouted from the gate, his excitement apparent. He rushed to give her a hug and take her travel bag. "Welcome."

  At least, her kid brother was always pleased to see her.

  "Thank you, Odion." She squeezed his lanky body briefly. "How are you?"

  "I’m very well. It’s so wonderful you came. I was going to call you. I just went out to buy some credit for my phone."

  "Oh, what happened? Is Mama worse?"

  "No. Nothing like that. My results came. I got a place to study History at the University of Benin."

  "That is wonderful. Congratulations. Where is Mama?"

  "She’s inside with Papa."

  Faith followed her brother as he carried her bag inside and they exchanged more news about his university placement.

  Inside, her father sat on his designated dark-red upholstered armchair watching a programme on the TV. In this house, the television almost stayed on at all times except during a power outage. Pictures of her father and mother hung on the peach-coloured walls.

  "Good morning, Papa."

  "What are you doing here?" he asked from his chair as he looked her up and down like something that had just crawled in from the gutter. Neither his expression nor his tone of voice sounded welcoming.

  Her stomach churned and she gritted her teeth. "I came to see Mama. I heard she was unwell."

  He grunted and waved her on. Faith swallowed the lump in her throat and fought back tears as she walked into the corridor leading to the back of the house.

  "Is Mama in her room?" she asked Odion once they were away from the prying eyes of their father.

  "Is that my daughter’s voice I can hear?" Her mother’s voice came from the kitchen.

  "Yes, it’s me, Mama."

  Her mother poked her head out of the kitchen door just as Faith arrived at the entrance.

  "What a pleasant surprise." Her mother hugged her before looking her over like she always did to check that she was fine. "Is everything alright?"

  "Everything is fine with me, Ma. I should be asking you how you are doing. Odion called me yesterday and told me you haven’t been well for a few days.

  "My dear, I’ve been unwell for a while, but it comes and goes." Her mother pulled up a chair for her to sit but Faith waved her hand away and indicated for her to sit, instead.

  "What exactly is wrong?" She scrunched her face up in worry, her initial agitation about her father now replaced with worry for her mother.

  "I get aches all over my body but the painkillers don’t seem to help."

  "How long has this been going on?"

  "It’s been a few weeks." Her mother shrugged.

  "A few weeks? Why did nobody tell me?" She glanced accusingly at Odion.

  "I only found out a few days ago, I swear," he protested. "You know how good Mama is at hiding things."

  Faith turned back to her mother. "Why didn’t you tell anybody? What did the doctor say?"

  "At first, I thought it was just malaria and have been taking tablets. But the aches didn’t go away. So I went to see the doctor on Friday. They took blood for tests. They will let me know next week."

  "Didn’t they want to keep you in for observations or something?"

  "Ah, I can’t stay in the hospital all weekend. I can’t just leave your father and brother here by themselves. Who will take care of them?"

  "Mama! You are the one who should be taken care of. Odion and Papa are not babies. They should be able to take care of themselves."

  Faith paced up and down in the kitchen as she got more and more agitated. This was always the case in this house. Her mother slaved like a workhorse to take care of the household. From the time she’d been a child, it had always been that way.

  As a teenager, she’d hated to see her mother struggle so much. When she’d found out her father had a similar future in store for her, she’d rebelled. She’d wanted to do other things instead of being treated like a doormat by a husband and children.

  She’d left home at the first opportunity and refused to regret it. The consequence had been her father practically disowning her and banning her from coming back there. But she refused to stay away. She loved her mother and brother too much.

  "Listen, Mum, how about you come to Lagos with me for a few days?"

  Her mother’s eyes widened and it looked like she was going to object. Faith carried on.

  "Just for a few days. I’m sure whatever is wrong with you won’t be helped by you being constantly on your feet. In Lagos, you will get to relax and be pampered. You won’t have to lift a finger. And I can book you in to see a very good doctor friend of mine. Eh, please, Mama. For me." She squatted in front of her mother.

  The older woman beamed a loving smile on her as she took her hands into her warm grasp.

  "All right. I will go to Lagos with you. But we have to speak to your father about it."

  Dread curled in Faith’s stomach like a worm. Not good.

  "I’ll go and speak to him now," she said bravely and tried to stand up.

  "No." Her mother held her hand. "Wait until later. I will talk to him first."

  Faith nodded, somewhat relieved that she didn’t have to face down her father who’d always said ‘no’ whenever Odion or her mother had wanted to come visit her in Lagos. She being the family outcast, anyone who disobeyed him and came to see her would be cast out themselves.

  In all her years, her parent had never blatantly disobeyed her father, although there’d been times when she’d walked the line in secret.

  So Faith hoped her mother could persuade her father to let her go to Lagos, at least for a week.

  "Odion, go and put your sister’s bag in my room."

  "No, Mama. You know Papa won’t let me spend the night here. I will stay at the hotel."

  Another consequence of being the family outcast. She couldn’t spend the night in the house. Her father proved very unforgiving. The only way around it would be to grovel to him and beg to be let back in.

  But Faith wasn’t going there.

  Her mother sighed. "I wish you and your father will stopping this constant fighting. You are both so alike in your stubbornness."

  "Mama, I’m not even going to talk about that right now." Faith went over to the kitchen counter. "What was it you were preparing? Let me help you do it."

  Chapter Eleven

  Faith should’ve known that trying to convince her father to let her take her mother to Lagos would be futile. His initial response had been a flat out ‘No’. At one point, he had accused her of practically peddling prostitution in Lagos. He’d heard gossip of what unmarried girls who worked in banks did to get new accounts. All her attempts to convince him that she didn’t work in a bank fell on deaf ears.

  She’d threatened to take her mother anyway without his permission. But it had only been hot air on her part. Her mother would never go against his wishes. She knew that already.

  In the end, they’d all agreed on a reasonable compromise, thanks to her mother. They would wait until the results from the hospital came back. And if the doctor gave the all-clear for her to travel, then she would go to Lagos.

  Faith agreed to it and left them to spend the night in the hotel she’d already booked a room in. She stayed at the same place each time she visited Benin so the staff were used to her and they always gave her the best available room at the time.

  After she checked into her room, she glanced at her phone for message. Apart from a text message from Ebony, she had no other messages. Feeling listless, she called Mark’s phone but got his messaging service, instead. Not sure what to say, she didn’t leave a message.

  She flicked through channels on the small TV and fell asleep on th
e bed as she read a book. The sound of her phone woke her up. She glanced at the clock as she picked it up. Five past eleven.

  "Hello," she answered the phone in a groggy voice.

  "Hi, sweetheart, did I wake you?" Mark’s voice sounded like a warm baritone.

  Her body perked up, even if her brain still worked its way to an alert state.

  "I must have drifted off to sleep watching the TV," she said as she sat up in bed.

  "Where’s everyone else? Your parents? Brother?"

  "I left them in the house. I’m in a hotel room."

  "Oh. You didn’t stay at your parents? Is there a problem? Your mum?" He sounded very concerned.

  "No. It’s nothing like that. My mum is unwell but we don’t know exactly what is wrong. She saw a doctor and they are running tests at the hospital. So we have to wait for the results."

  "Is she at a hospital?"

  "No. She’s at home."

  "Sounds like it isn’t that serious, then."

  "I hope not."

  "So, why are you in a hotel room instead of at home with your family?" he asked in a serious note.

  Crunch time.

  She’d avoided telling Mark about her family for months now, and he’d been patient with her. But even now, she didn’t know what to tell him or how much to tell him. His life was so different from hers.

  According to Ebony, the Essiens were a close-knit family and they all always stood up for each other. From the times she’d met Mark’s parents, she could see they equally loved all their children. Even Felix, who wasn’t the birth child of Mark’s mother, was treated no differently. He had the perfect family. She didn’t.

  "Faith, talk to me. What’s going on?" Mark’s voice had acquired an urgent growl.

  "It’s a long story." She sighed.

  "Sweetheart, you know I’ve never pushed you to tell me about your family. I’ve always respected your boundaries. But I know there’s something wrong here. You were in a hurry to go to Benin City this morning to see your parents. Now you’re there, you tell me you’re spending the night in a hotel. I want to know why. I think I deserve to know. I care about you too much not to want to know."

 

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