: SILENCE
"Iya mi! Iya mi!” (my mother!) Faith cried loudly. She had a three-year-old boy in her arms who looked about; either startled or searching for the cause of his mom’s tears. She was Mrs.Anjola’s-the dead cleaner- only daughter. Mrs. Anjola had 4 children; 3 boys and a girl. The eldest lives abroad and hasn't visited or called home in the last 10 years. The other was in prison and the last male child, in Ahmadu Bello University studying law. Faith who was the youngest, attended Kwara State University. Their father is a late Dangote truck driver who hailed from Kaduna.
She had narrated it all to us a little while after her arrival at the hospital that evening, wondering how she was going to pay the hospital bills. However, when she was told that Chris had settled the bill, she released a fresh bout of tears and it tugged at my heart that she was now an orphan. I wasn’t a stranger to loss but to have no parents was a fate I wished on no one.
Death truly is a terrible thief.
"Haa.Iya mi you can't leave me too. Who will take care of me now?” She wailed over and over. Mr. CEO was hugging her tightly- I knew his name but to think of him on a first name basis meant I acknowledged his existence. Just this once, the antiseptic smell of hospitals was beginning to irritate me. It’s never easy breaking the news of a patient’s death to their family members or being around to see their hopes crumble. I could still hear Faith’s wails even though I now stood outside the morgue. Mr. CEO hugged her a bit too tight and she clung to his shirt like a lifeline. My heart skipped a tiny bit.
I know he was consoling her, for death was messy but inevitable. We must all die one way or the other, but why did he hold her so close?
Sheesh. Snap out of it.You sound like a jealous lover. I chastised myself.
"Miss, let's go" Mr. CEO said, his voice standing out in the quiet night. His voice was clear; not as deep as most males, a rich bass, smooth and hard at the same time. He was usually cold and closed off and for the first time since all the random meetings fate has been throwing our way, Isaw sadness in his eyes. I wanted to look away but those eyes were compelling.
He was staring at me strangely also, "Come on, the driver has brought the car around." He urged.
It must have been the emotional feels of the day or the fact that he looked sad but something made me see him as a human with basic emotions for the first time. I was telling him my name even though I was sure he knew it already. "Pamela" I said quickly, my voice almost a whisper before I could change my mind.
"Pardon?” He asked confused. "My name is Pamela Williams" Immediately it rolled off my tongue, it sounded stupid that I was even telling him but since it was out there I couldn’t take it back.
He smirked. Not a grin or a smile, just a stupid arrogant smirk that messed up his features in a way I really liked, then muttered "Oh, alright."
That was all he said as he opened the door for me like the gentleman I didn’t think he was. I just told him my name and all he could say was ‘oh’, as if I had stated the obvious. In his defense, it was an old piece of information but the least he could do was to be more original than that.
Earlier, while rushing to the hospital, I was too busy with Mrs. Anjola to rate the car’s interiors. I love cars- the smell of pure leather seats, the power behind your hand when you hold the steering wheel. I looked towards the passenger’s seat in front in a bid to subtly observe as much as I could about the ice machine occupying the space, leaving me and Faith at the back.
The car was clean, almost spotless. Its interior looked new with all its covers in black, which led me to the conclusion that this man had a dangerous fixation with black. What caught my eye, was a simple crucifix hanging up on the internal mirror which looked strange and out of place considering my perception of him.
The car ride was silent. Faith looked out of the window quietly without making a sound and my heart ached for her. Her son was sleeping quietly in her arms without making a fuss almost as if he knew somethings had changed. The car stopped at KudiratAbiolastreet where Faith's uncle lived and they alighted, leaving me and the driver in the car. I overhead her refusing his offer to see her in, claiming that he’d done enough already.
"Where to,Temitope?" He opened the door and sat beside me at the back and it suddenly occurred to me that he was calling me by my middle name.I didn’t know whether to be mad that he did or just plain surprised.
"Any hotel nearby please, also you’re not allowed to call me Temitope" it sounded way too intimate and personal when it came out from his lips for reasons unknown to me.
"Mr. Andrews sent us your details and it stated Pamela Temitope Williams." Mr. CEO shrugged like I had said something dumb.
"Pamela is my first name. Why call me Temitope?" I threw back defiantly.
"I prefer it. It suits you plus Pamela means; sweet like honey which you are not" this time he was smiling at me. For someone who rocks the brooding look so well, this was a surprise so I laughed. After all he was right, I wasn't all smiles and rainbows most times.
"Don’t blame yourself about her death. You did your best and I thought you were cool, the way you administered first aid." Somehow this shouldn’t matter to me but I couldn’t help but bask in his subtle praise. How did he even know I blamed myself for her death? I kept thinking of ways I could have done better, maybe jamming a pen into her pleural space would have ruptured the mast of cancer or maybe I…
"Let’s just pray that God comforts her family" he cut through my thoughts with his smooth silky drawl. His cold mask was back in place now "Regarding the business deal, what is your proposal? I will be unavailable at the office tomorrow."
Oh. The proposal.
This man had issues. He kept blowing hot and cold. He was smiling at me just now and all of a sudden, this. Well, two can play.
"We want thirty percent shares in CHANCE. An exchange"
"You can't compare the thirty percent in QUALITY LIFE to CHANCE’s. The price is almost double so I will give you 18% which is 3% more than it should be. Agreed?"
"Yes" I answered quietly. I was tired on all fronts and honestly we shouldn’t even be getting more than ten percent. His offer was very generous.
He looked at me, shocked that I hadn’t put up more of a fight or argument and it was at this time my rebellious stomach chose to rumble loudly. He sent me an amused look when he heard it and I quelled the insane urge to feel embarrassed, after all food was a sure necessity for life.
"Drive to Fork and Knives, Obi" he instructed calmly with a corner of his lips quirked up in a tiny smile. I was so embarrassed and wanted to say I wasn't hungry but that will be a lie.
"I look a mess, thanks for the offer but I'll just go to a hotel and get settled in. Which hotel are you taking me to?” I said instead, looking him dead straight in the eye.
"I look a mess also but it doesn't matter. Food first and trust me you’ll enjoy it." I stared at him in his three-piece suit that didn’t possess a wrinkle, crease or speck of dust. He lookedlike he hadn’t experienced something that could make him look a mess and I wondered where he got his definition of ‘mess’ from. I still had blood stains on my dress even though I tried to rinse it off and my afro bun was frizzy and looked out of place.
I look a mess.
"Is this a date?" I asked before my brain could catch up with my mouth. When I’m nervous, I say things without thinking them through then I wish for the ground to open up and swallow me.
"No. I don't date" he replied bluntly.
Swallow me now! Please swallow me up.
*****.