₦airaland Forum

I thoroughly enjoyed Bloodline by IronKurtain and AudreyTimms' Letting Go.

Love is in all of us... though most times it just eludes us even while making us believe it is attainable.
#storyinprogress

Keeping to my principle of being open as related to progress report, I won't be making any new updates. At some point, the story looked like it was gonna be my version of ROMEO AND JULIET and I'm not sure I want that. I decided to search for a new direction. That search turned out to be a long one. I never force myself to write. But as my editor says, the book will be ready when it will be ready.

It's gonna be a free book of course. The system isn't fast or direct enough to make money of it so why not do it for the love since I want to.

Nonetheless, I apologize if your sentiments feature the thought that I wasted your time. I only hope it will be worth the wait for those who understand.

JS

You dey spew fine yarns bros. Carry on.

jaylicioussss:
this is really nice. Any one can write a story but it takes raw talent to tell a story in your writing. The diction here is on point. I do love when one writes with the right choice of words.
Anyway some inconsistencies should be checked @johnspurgeon, like the name as someone pointed out, and also the exact number of years its been since Banks father passed, you wrote 6 somewhere and 8 somewhere else I think. and some places you meant to use he,she was used... nothing serious just pls come and finish the story.
oh and Lade and Banks left Secondary school 8years ago... and Banks is just graduating from school of art, did he attend any other school before the school of art?

Thank you especially. I will take note.

As for everyone else who has patiently followed Lade's story till this point, I'll give a big thank you. I am sorry I haven't been here for a while.

Unfortunately, I won't follow my usual blueprint for apologies and updates, because I am here to apologize for something worse - No more updates for now.

I don't wish that in my zeal for an NL update and miss a sub-direction I could push Lade and Banks through. I need some time off to work on the ending after which I will publish it myself and bring it back to you. I can't promise that I'd be ready in less than two months, but I can promise that it would be worth the wait. It would be free of course.

I don't feel good when I rush it. And a good story is worth writing well, so I crave all your indulgences. Thank you.

PS: The jerryjonesafrique on literotica is being taken care of. Someone was already asking for ISBN from National Library for an incomplete manuscript containing you-know-what - the same thing I'd already submitted. Maybe it was the literotica guy, maybe another plagiarist. All the same, it's all being taken care of. Thanks for looking out, bro.

***

“This must be the place!” Taiwo said. Kunle nodded staring at the gate of the compound they’d seen the Wrangler disappear into as they drive past.
“What now?” Taiwo asked.
Kunle took out a cigarette and lit it. He offered one to Taiwo who shook his head. Kunle lit his cigarette and took a long, satisfied drag. He took out his phone and made a call. It got picked at the second ring.
“We have a problem! Where are you?”
“I’m sitting outside fresh boy’s house!” Kunle replied, frowning at Sting’s tone.
Sting was silent for a moment. Then in a calmer voice he said, “Good, but get back here at once! We have more urgent matters to handle.”
Kunle blinked in surprise. “Alright! I’m on my way!” Kunle ended the call and scowled at the phone. Urgent matters! This man has been on his neck for the past week to find Nicky and now that her hideout has been found, something else is more urgent.
“So, what now? What did Sting say?”
Kunle shrugged, barely hiding his disappointment. “He wants me back at the workhouse! Something is up. You’d drop me off and then come back here and keep an eye on this house.”
Taiwo nods. “Okay!” He started the BMW.
“And don’t raise any suspicions ‘cause I won’t come to the police station to bail you if you get caught casing a house after what happened last time.”
Taiwo shook his head, pressing his lips into a thin smile and put the gear in drive.

***

Banks could hear his sister ranting at someone from the corridor outside her bedroom suite. He couldn’t make out what she was saying but it was obvious she was mad at someone. He knocked and opened the door.
Vanessa stopped talking and turned to look at the door. She was lying on her stomach on the bed, propped up by her elbows. “Talk about the devil! Get your ass in here!” She turned to face her laptop on which she was skyping with Mike who was wearing a white vest and a military cap, and sitting on a bunk bed. “Mike, I’d have to get back to you later, tonight!”
“Good to see you Peter!” Mike shouted and waved at Banks who walked into his view.
“Hey Mike!”
Mike returns his attention to his pouting girlfriend, giving her a smug smile. “Go easy on him,” he said before a scowling Vanessa slapped the laptop shut.
“Go easy on me?”
Vanessa picked up her tablet and showed it to his face. “Finally, your wish have been fulfilled.” Banks got closer and took the tablet from her while she sat up. She was wearing a tank top and jean shorts. Banks saw the pictures on facebook – Lade had a broken bottle and was facing off Godwin’s three friends while Godwin was on the floor clutching his bleeding leg. Banks scrolled down. The second picture had Andy and Bayo fighting off Godwin’s friends while Banks dragged a tear-faced Lade off the scene.
Vanessa snatched the tablet from his hand. “A bar fight on the night of your graduation, where you won best graduating student?”
“You weren’t there Sister Vee! You think she is just a reckless tout spoiling for a fight? The guy she stabbed tried getting her number and when she turned him down…”
Vanessa scrambled to her feet and slapped him. “You’re not listening! If you are, you’d hear it loud and clear that nobody gives a crap about your explanations or whose fault it was! Definitely not those people with their hungry cameras looking for gossip! Definitely not mom’s business associates who’d definitely heard whatever version of this shit that made its way to them! Definitely not me either! That girl is trouble! And she has no place in this house ‘cause that is all she would bring us! Am I loud and clear enough?”
Banks was shocked at the slap, but had recovered sufficiently enough. “And I don’t give a shit about any of it Sister Vee! Not, these gossip channels! Not mom’s business associates! Where were they when we were just poor, regular people? And after this slap, I don’t give a shit about what you think about Lade, and what you think this house needs either! I love her! Am I loud and clear enough for you Sister Vee?”
He didn’t wait for a reply from a stunned Vanessa. He turned to walk out of the room and almost bumped into Andy who was eavesdropping from the drive way. Andy stepped aside and stared at him walk away without so much as a word.

***

Tobechi looked at the wall clock and sighed at the stack of files on his desk. He still hadn’t gone through a quarter of the paperwork the new deputy director had given him. Okay not just him. There were twenty other agents that had been taken off field duty and re-assigned the task to revise paperwork from fifteen other NDLEA divisions. It was past working hours and it was okay to clock out as he had a month to submit his report. It’d been a week of reviewing paperwork. He still couldn’t tell what Simon hoped to achieve, but the new boss had spoken and had to be obeyed.
He left his office a few minutes later with his laptop and walked down the corridor to the elevator just as it arrived and slid open. Charles stepped out of the elevator while Tobechi stepped in, exchanging ‘hellos’ as they walked past each other. Charles suddenly turned and stopped the sliding doors with his hand, Tobechi frowned at him.
“Sorry! Where can I find Simon’s office?” Charles asked.
Tobechi eyed him. “You’re on the wrong floor. His office is two floors up, though I doubt he’d still be here this late,” he said, giving his wristwatch a cursory look.
“I’m almost late for our appointment. Thanks for the directions.” He released the doors to slide close and went to find the stairs.
Tobechi made out of the building and walked to where his Peugot 607 was parked. On his way he noticed Ese’s car and smiled musingly. He wasn’t the only one catching up on work. He also noticed Kemi’s car and that got him frowning. She had not be assigned paper work to review. Coming to think about it, Ese hadn’t been assigned paper work either. Tobechi looked around the parking yard. Simon’s Hilux was at its reserved parking lot. He found Dare’s car, Nadia’s too.
He got to his Peugot and put his laptop in the back seats. He made to enter his car but hesitated. He couldn’t shake off the nagging suspicion that something was up – something he didn’t know about. After the raid on one of Sting’s properties had gone down without his knowledge, he’d suspected something he wasn’t privy to was going on. He had to find out if his instinct was correct. He locked his car and got back into the building.
The elevator deposited him on Simon’s floor. He found Kayode, Simon’s driver standing along the corridor at the door outside Simon’s office. Tobechi smiled at him as he approached.
“I don’t remember ever seeing you standing here before?” Kayode shrugged. They shook hands. “I’m here to see oga boss.”
“He’s having a private meeting and asked not to be disturbed.”
“There is this errand he sent me and he’d be disappointed if I don’t let him know the outcome before I clock out.”
Kayode shrugged unconcernedly. “You can call him on the phone, or leave the message with me.”
Tobechi was disappointed. “I get it! I’ll give him a call like you said.”
“It is Oga Simon’s express orders not to be interrupted. I’m sorry.” He wasn’t. He was just doing his job. Tobechi understood this. He nodded and turned to walk away.
Tobechi got back to his car but didn’t drive away. It was almost sunset when he saw Dare, Kemi and Ese talking as they exited the building and separate to go to their various cars. Kayode exited next and went to stand by Simon’s Hilux. Nadia, Simon and the guy he’d run into at the elevator exited last. They stopped outside the building, and after a brief discussion, they too dispersed to their respective cars.
Fact determined – something he didn’t know about was going on. Now he had to find out what, but HOW? All the officers involved were on the same paygrade with him and wouldn’t be compelled to share their agenda with him, especially since Oga Simon was so hell bent on keeping his cards close. All Tobechi wanted to know was if it had anything to do with Sting.

***

Andy was washing the Mercedes convertible out at the lawn in the front yard when the gates swung open for the Wrangler to drive through into the compound. Andy stopped to turn and stare at the Wrangler driving up towards the building. Banks noticed him and horned. He pulled up in front of the garage and alighted, smiling at the look on his cousin’s face as he walked to join him on the lawn.
“See a ghost?”
Andy chuckled. “I need to re-check my dictionary for the meaning of ‘hiding’ because it’s obvious I misunderstood what you are supposed to be doing between you and your girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend! That’s a first!” Banks grinned. They ‘chopped’ knuckles even though Andy’s hands were soapy. “Is Vanessa in?”
Andy nodded. “She’s mad at you though.” Banks frowned at that. “She saw the video online, about the fight at the party.” Banks’ eyes widened in surprise. “You haven’t seen it?” Banks shook his head, dumbfounded at the news. Cat got his tongue. Andy shook his head. “It’s all over the internet; on facebook groups mostly - Best Graduating Student in a Bar Fight, or something along the lines.”
No wonder someone had tried to link it to the arson attempt at his studio. It was everything Lade had been afraid of.

SPDAZZY:
Nice story Johnspurgeon014.I am wowed and totally in love with this story.
You are a great writer, I love your consistency and promise keeping.
I think there is a little mix-up somewhere. At the beginning of the story, you said the name of the man Sting killed, through the help of Lade , was named Johnny, but in this last update, the name I see is Jimmy.

Thanks a lot. Will adjust it at the next editing.

***

Banks pulled across the road outside the three building which housed his studio. A few people were outside the building talking excitedly. Banks recognized them as the people that worked at the other offices on the lower floors. Banks was surprised to see a police truck outside the building, He’d expressly ordered the security men not to alert the police, but someone had – probably a concerned neighbor.
He alighted from the Wrangler and walked across the road towards the building, oblivious of the BMW parked along the road ahead of him. Someone noticed him coming and the next instant all eyes were on him. That was when he noticed that some were media people – that’s if gossip columnists, bloggers and paparazzi should be included as media people.
As Banks made his way past the small crowd hurling questions and sympathies into the building, someone asked. “Mr. Bankole, tell us, could this be payback for the argument which involved your date at the graduation party at seventeen fifty-nine last two nights?” Banks stopped for a moment before continuing on his way up the stairs.
The studio had been broken into, thrashed and set ablaze. It was a good thing there was a fire-alarm system that was attached to sprinklers which had been triggered to put out the fire. As such there was no real damage to the building, but everything else was roast.
Banks was devastated. All the hung paintings, unfinished works, the easel, and the unused canvases had been thrown together into a pile. Even the rug and furniture were affected After speaking to the policemen and giving them his statement, he got into his makeshift office and den. Nothing had been touched there. His papers and laptop was as he’d left it. The few clothes and shoes in his wardrobe were also intact.
About an hour later, the police were done. Banks had a short meeting reassuring the managers of the other businesses. A little breach didn’t mean security was no longer intact. He’d been the one targeted, as such their businesses was safe.
He put his office papers, work laptop and clothes into a bag and threw them into the back of his car. With all the phone cameras, Banks was sure he was going to pull traffic to some highly opinionated sites full of hear-say. Too bad he wasn’t a sucker for attention, this would’ve been a perfect wannabe artist publicity stunt. Another thing was sure – his mom was definitely going to hear about it before the end of the day.
From down the street, Taiwo and Kunle sat patiently in the B.M.W and waited it all out. When Banks finally got into his car to drive away, Taiwo threw away his cigarette and turned on the ignition.
“Better not lose him. This might be our only chance.”
They watched Banks drive past them without so much as a glance. Taiwo got into traffic behind him and followed suit.

***

“It’s not the first time she is telling on him,” Jerry said. They all turned to look at him. It was the first sentence he’d made since their discussion began.
Jerry was wearing a brown sleeveless shirt that was tight on his muscle-ripped body. He sat at one end of the table smoking a Cuban. Mandy the albino, Dangote, Mandy’s right hand man, thin, with a look of dare-devilry, and Bobby, late Jimmy’s brother were all at the table under one of the shade trees in Mandy’s backyard. Mandy and Dangote are smoking pot. Bobby isn’t smoking, but like the others, he has a glass of bourbon on the table in front of him. The bourbon bottle is on the table.
“Are you saying she’d snitched on him before and he still kept her alive?” Mandy asked.
“I guess the rumors are true. He has a soft spot for the skirt,” Dangote said, smiling.
“I doubt Sting realized, but she warned me,” Jerry said. “Sting wanted to use her to lure me in, but she told on him.” Then, he went on to tell them about the call from Nicky. He’d sat at his car watching as Sting and his boys arrived at the rendezvous and left in disappointment, thanks to Nicky’s whispered warning at the end of the conversation.
They all exchanged glances with each other as the implication of Jerry’s statement hit them. If she did it once, would she be willing to do it again? How would they get her to snitch for them?
Mandy drained his glass. “We should meet this Nicky. If Jerry here is right and she is building a mind of her own, then surely we can make our interests align.”
Bobby scowled at that. “She could be the one they say was supposed to be with Jimmy when he was found dead.”
“Maybe? Why should we care?” Dangote asked. “If she is willing to help us bring her oga down, then all her sins can be taken to the cleaners.”
“She is mine, if she is the same girl! I’m here to…”
“We are here to return the status quo!” Dangote shouted, banging the table. “Not for petty revenge! Or are you no longer interested in taking back Jimmy’s turf? We could do it without you if you like!”
“You can’t do it without me, Dangote! That would just be a counter coup, and you know I have Jimmy’s resources and the loyalty of all his boys.” Bobby shouted back glaring at everyone at the table.
“You mean, the ones still in the game? How many are left?” Dangote sneered.
“Enough!” Mandy raised his voice loud enough to cut off whatever Bobby’s reply was going to be. “Is this a pissing contest? You both claim to be leaders, so act like it! No one is doing this without you Bobby, but like Aliyu just said, this is now more about the money we are not making, about turfs we are losing than about Jimmy! Jimmy is dead! RIP! But so what? It would be my pleasure to give you Sting to kill yourself if that would pacify your hunger for revenge, but business must continue.” Mandy turned to Jerry. “How do we find this woman?”
“That is going to be a little problem with that? Word is she eloped, with a boy.” Jerry said. There was a surprised look on everyone’s faces. Mandy looked disappointed.
“If Sting finds her before we do, she’d be dead and useless,” Dangote said.
“I can find her. Give me a day or two.” Jerry said.
“We may not have a day or two.” Mandy replied, then the thought struck him. “What use is she to us if she is no longer part of Sting’s organization?”
Good question! Jerry shrugged with a knowing smile – a smile that was lost to all present except Mandy’s watchful eyes.

***

Cindy alighted from the taxi and paid him off. She was wearing a blue mini gown and and black leggings. Long earrings dangled from her ears as she turned around looking among the cars parked outside the hotel building. She’d been told to look for a maroon color FORD FOCUS, license plate number CL542JJI.
Charles looked at the photo Banks had pinged him and compared it to the young lady who just walked into the hotel compound. It was the young woman he was supposed to meet. He watched her scan the premises for his car and walk towards him when she found it.
He reached over to open the shotgun door when she arrived. Cindy scanned the premises before climbing beside her. Charles started his car.
“I thought we were going to talk in the car? Where are we going?” Cindy asked frowning.
“Yes we’d talk in the car, but I’d rather be in transit while we do?” He backed out of his spot and made for the gate. “Banks trusts you. Why?”
“He does! Shouldn’t that be enough for you?”
Charles guides his car into traffic. “For me? Time would tell! But for some other interested parties, they’d prefer guarantees that you’re not going to lead us on a wild goose chase.”
Cindy stiffened. “Stop the car!” Charles frowned at that. “If you’re referring to the police, then I say pull over and stop this car! Sting owns the po-po! I no fit trust them! I thought it was just going to be you and me? You na private investigator, are you not?”
Charles continued driving. “I hear there was a raid on the house recently, one that wasn’t leaked to Sting beforehand. I don’t think that was masterminded by Sting’s minions, was it?”
She stopped to think about it. True. And yet, it was a tight rope she was walking. Despite the fact that Sting had the commissioner and the A.G in his pockets, someone had had the balls to raid…
“There is a secret task force of the NDLEA, spear headed by one Agent Simon and his godson Obinna. Obinna is the one who led the raid that arrested Lade. I have sufficient reason to believe that they are not in Sting’s pockets and have taken their time to screen and select others as clean as a referee’s whistle to assist in this taskforce. They have one objective, which is to…”
“Take Sting down.”
Charles nodded.
There would be blowback, but Cindy had already made her peace with it. “How exactly can I be of help?”
They got to a traffic light and Charles slowed down to join the short queue. “Peter said you promised to create a channel to inside information.”
“I did. Sting’s right hand man is in the hospital for an auto accident and that created an opportunity. The position is open temporarily for the next in command – Kunle is his name. He’s a dreamer, ambitious… wants the right-hand man spot for himself, sometimes. I think he could even kill Spencer for it, if he had the mind.”
“And this Kunle is your source? How?” He already knew the answer but wanted to hear it.
“I am fucking him!”
The beginning stages of a plan started forming in his head. “And he told you this?”
“He loves me… of course he did.”
“And do you…? Do you love him?” He looked her in the eye and smiled at what he saw there. Charles paused to think for a moment. “Maybe he deserves Spencer’s spot, don’t you think?”
They exchanged glances. Cindy’s eyes widened in shock when she understood his insinuation. The traffic light turned green, and they began to move again.

***

Banks turned the flush knob and watched the Ziploc bags and foil wraps get sucked down the drain. Juliet’s instincts had been right – the foil bits which had been found floating on the toilet water in Lade’s toilet were used to wrap drugs. Uncomfirmed until now, for as the toilet water in the bowl settled, Banks could see bits of foil floating on it.
Juliet’s words echoed in his head. “…smart enough to hide evidence….” The sound of bare feet on tiles made him turn. Lade was standing on the bathroom doorway, and leaning on the frame with her arms and legs crossed.
“Is this all of it?”
Lade reluctantly unfolds herself to hand him a wrap of indian hemp. “I found this in the pocket of one of my trousers.” Her hand shook slightly as she held it out to him. Banks took the wrap of Indian hemp and dropped it into the toilet bowl. He watches the wrapping paper soak and unwrap to release the hemp leaf bits to float beside the bits of foil.
“What about Mike’s medicine cabinet? I saw some pain killers and vitamin pills and…”
“Don’t worry, I’ve hidden those!” Banks replied. Banks turns the flush knob again and watches it flush cleanly this time. He turned to find Lade now sitting on the neat bathroom tiles of the bathroom floor still leaning on the door. Banks went to sit on the floor opposite her, his back to the bath tub. They listened to the toilet flush, and then the cistern refill.
“Have you ever tried it?”
Banks frowned at her. “Drugs?” Lade nodded. Banks chuckled at the absurdity. “Nah!”
Lade sighed. “It’s like… the best feeling in the world. It could take away everything else… all the crap in your daily life… all your fears, and doubts… everything. Nothing matters anymore – hot and cold… moral and immoral. You just don’t care. Like you’re wrapped in the warmest blanket imaginable and you’re sleeping like a baby in a beautiful cot.” Her eyes glistened with tears. A drop fell on her left cheek but she blinked the rest away. Her eyes were filled with regret as she looked beyond Banks into the past five years. She folded her legs so her knees touch her chest and hugged her legs, suddenly feeling all alone. Still she saw Banks watching her, listening intently and waiting to hear more.
“But then you wake up, soon enough.” She sniffled and rubbed off escaping mucus from one nostril with the back of her palm. “… and that warm blanket… it is gone all of a sudden… and you’re cold, and empty… and… and… and desperate. You’ll do anything to have that feeling back. ANYTHING AT ALL.” By this time, her voice was breaking intermittently with the threatening sobs, tears streaming down her face. She doesn’t even bother wiping it.
Banks reached to wipe her cheeks with his fingers. He moved over to sit beside her, with his back to the bathroom wall. He curled an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer. Lade laid her head on his shoulder and inhaled his cologne – Familiar, soothing, safe. They were silent for a full minute before she was calm enough to continue.
“I couldn’t continue school after the burial of my dad and Godwin. Uncle Balogun was in Katsina struggling with lung cancer – he’s late now – and he couldn’t help. There was this old loan shark my father owed before he died. We came up with an agreement. I worked at his bar while a part of my salary was used to pay off the debt. He was… always pressuring me to have sex with him, but I kept turning him down. I thought I was lucky when Sting showed up – clean and young. He didn’t have that scar on his face yet.”
Banks chuckled. “Yeah! That would’ve been a dead giveaway, wouldn’t it?”
Lade would’ve smiled if she wasn’t so moody. “I thought he really cared, you know. He paid off the rest of my father’s debt and got me an accommodation and a new job as a waitress. He was really friendly. He introduced me to the parties. A lot of people knew him and he introduced me to them. He wasn’t pressuring me into anything so after a while, I stopped seeing him as another opportunist and just relaxed. He got my trust and respect. I gave in to him… One day we… he dropped me off after a party where I’d been drinking heavy. I asked him if he wanted to come up, and that was that.
“He introduced me to everything I’m hooked on now – the booze, pot, smack, cocaine. It made me forget how miserable I was after my father’s death and dropping out of school… that I was alone in the world. It made me feel like, if Sting could see something in me, then I was still someone despite the fact that I wasn’t chasing to be who I wanted to be anymore… you know.” Banks nodded.
Lade sniffed and swallowed. “One day after I was hooked on the drugs, Sting said that he was broke and couldn’t buy me anymore drugs… but he knew someone… a friend… who likes me… and all I had to do was spend a few hours with him, and we’ll have enough for ourselves…” She faltered. She began sobbing, wetting his neck with her tears as she burrowed deeper into his familiar smell to escape her memories. Still, she continued. She had to tell him everything – this wonderful man risking everything for her.
“I did it,” she said falteringly. “All I could think about was how…”
“How he’d done so much for you and that was the first time he was asking you to do anything for him?”
Lade broke down while nodding. “It was simple psychology, I guess…”
Banks nodded and pulled her closer. He consoled her the best he could, whispering in her ear while stroking her locks. She stopped crying after a while and resumed her tale. “The money kept drying up after that, and I had to do more favors for his friends… needing more drugs… more money… more favors… After a while, I didn’t know what I was doing anymore. I got swallowed up… by the need… did whatever it took. Imagine my surprise when I realized that My boyfriend was a pusher, like…high in the food chain… and he had other girls like me. I guess I was grateful that he stopped pimping me out and made me run other bigger errands.”
Banks frowned. No! He couldn’t run the risk of exposing her to the blowback that would come from her testifying against Sting while he was free. Cindy’s way was better regardless of how selfish it was.
Meanwhile Lade was still speaking. “I was on the edge most of the time, scared for my life. Ashamed of what my father would say if he saw me. I was working the streets two-four-seven… just to keep from getting insane. Still it was more than insane, Peter… more than…” She broke down and cried.
Banks kissed her forehead. “It’ll be alright in the end,” he said.
“Depends on what is at the end,” she replied with a sense of foreboding.
Banks’ cell phone rang, interrupting the mood. Lade leaned away from him as he took his hand from around her shoulder to take his phone out of his pocket. He frowned in surprise at the caller.
“Who is it?” Lade who noticed the change in his mood asked.
“The security man at my studio building,” he replied with a tone ripe with premonition.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Jennifer woke up to the strong smell of barbecue. Her brows were already knit when she opened her eyes, but the sight of Chika sitting on the edge of the bed holding a piece of grilled meat hanging on a stick, with a mischievous grin on her shot her wake-up mood straight to bad. She pushed Chika’s hand away and sat up.
Chika put the meat in her mouth, pulling the stick out of it. She climbed off the bed chewing noisily. Her mouth was quite full of it. Jennifer’s frowning eyes followed her as she went to part the curtains, letting sunlight into the room.
Jennifer was puzzled. “What says the time?” She asked.
“Last I checked… ten-forty-six… A.M, obviously.” Chika replied through a meat filled mouth.
Jennifer groaned, rubbing the rest of the sleep out of her eyes. She sat up in her bed looking very depressed. Her eyes were a bit sunken into their roots while her hair was all tangled.
“Good thing school is out. You almost look like something drawn on Blackbeard’s flag.”
Jennifer only groaned some more. “Get out!” She threw a pillow at Chika but missed.
Chika walked to the bedroom door and opened it. “You forgot about the meat,” she said. “Are you hungry? The rest of the gang are at the yard. We’ve fired up the grill and you are sleeping through fun time.”
This bit of information seemed to fully wake Jennifer up. “Banks is here?” She asked.
Chika frowned. “No, but everyone else is,” she replied.
Jennifer’s disappointment was noticeable. However, she shrugged. “I’ll freshen up first.”
“Good idea ‘cause you’re no sleeping beauty today! How much did you drink when you came home?” Chika ask with a twinge of concern and ran the room, shutting the door against the second pillow Jennifer hurled at her.
Jennifer sat on the bed, sullen at the prospect of beginning the day. She sighed, willing her legs to swing off her bed and walked herself into the bathroom.
Thirty minutes later she descended the stairs looking much more like her usual self. She was now wearing a yellow-striped-on-gray chanelle top and a pair of blue track pants. She could perceive the smell of grilling meat and music playing at the backyard. She made it to the kitchen and out the back doors to the wide expanse that was their backyard. The Home Theatre had been taken outside, Theresa was dancing alone with a bottle of beer in her hand, quite tipsily. Andy was behind the grille. Idara was sitting with Chika, Bayo and Tunde under the pool shade, eating grilled meat and holding beer bottles. They were talking about school.
“Hmm! This early morning!” Jennifer exclaimed.
They all noticed her descending the short flight of steps that led away from the back door.
“Hey sweetie!” Andy called from behind the grille.
“You’re awake, finally,” Idara said, waving her over.
Jennifer tried a weak smile as she went to join them. They were all dressed casually, she noticed. “I heard all the fun in the world was going on in my own backyard and I was missing out.”
“Almost,” Tunde replied, giving her a hug and a peck on the cheek.
Jennifer hugged Bayo and Idara too. Andy handed her a stick of grilled meat and a beer. Jennifer took the meat but declined the beer. Her stomach growled like a dog at the smell of meat so close to her nose. She tore at the soft flesh with her teeth nodding her approval. She gave Andy a thumbs-up and he smiled. She turned to notice that Theresa had stopped dancing and was walking to her with a bit of alcoholic dance in her steps.
“Hey baby! You really look like you could use a drink!” She said when she arrived next to Jennifer and put an arm around her. Jennifer wrinkled her nose.
Idara chuckled. “It’s too early to be drunk Theresa.”
Theresa turned her head at Idara’s direction. “That’s the plan, beyotch! Isn’t it said, all Theresa does is party?” She was a tad louder than necessary. Tunde took her beer bottle from her which she gave up willingly, with an almost sweet smile on her face.
Jennifer couldn’t understand how their relationship had lasted this long. They were different in so many ways. At least, she’d never seen Tunde get drunk. Theresa on the other hand had gotten more blackouts than anyone else Jennifer knew. Jennifer’s stomach growled some more.
“I guess your stomach agrees with what it perceives, huh?” Bayo chuckled.
“She didn’t touch her plate at the dinner party last night,” Chika mentioned. “I doubt she ate anything when she got back. You guys should tell her nothing is worth having an ulcer over.” They all turned to Chika, surprised even though they knew she was prone to sudden mood swings. She shrugged at them, unapologetic.
Jennifer ignored her. “This is really good, Andy.” Banks taught you well, she meant. Banks made the meanest barbecue they’d ever eaten.
“Why? Thank you!” Andy replied, serving Theresa another stick of meat.
“How’re you feeling this morning, Jenny?” Idara asked.
“I’m fine! Who said I was ill?” Jennifer threw Chika and accusatory look and she shrugged. “Of course! Who else but Miss Pettiness?” Jennifer rolled her eyes at Chika. “I only suggested I may need some alone time to work on something new.”
The silence that ensued was quite awkward. The cousins were rarely at log aheads. Everyone ate or sipped their liquor silently. Only Theresa wouldn’t abide the silence. She quipped, “Banks showed up at the after party with that hoe of his.”
Jennifer felt the awkward silence get even worse. She took Theresa’s arms off from around her neck and look around at her friends’ faces. Everyone was reluctant to comment on Theresa’s new topic. Something had gone wrong, again. She threw Chika a quizzing look.
Tunde cleared his throat. “It’s not like you missed much, Jenny… just the usual party scene. Nothing much happened.” Tunde said, trying to ease up the atmosphere created by his girl.
Bayo and Andy exchanged glances and started laughing to themselves. Idara caught on quicker than the rest and grinned at him. Tunde didn’t get it.
“What’s funny?” He asked.
“Have you forgotten in such a hurry?” Bayo asked.
“Isn’t it odd Tunde, that you haven’t mentioned snooker even once since we showed up! Usually, you would’ve ratted us and our lesser abilities on the table out.” Andy said. They all laughed, including Theresa. Chika buried her face in her meat to keep from smiling.
“What are they talking about?” Jennifer asked Tunde.
Tunde shrugged. “Nothing important,” he replied still smarting. Jennifer turned to the rest of them when she finds him unbelievable.
“Well, nothing except she beat you hands-down!” Idara said in between fits of laughter.
“She?” Jennifer asked, confused.
“Yes! Our loud mouthed king of pool…beaten by a girl so badly he offered to forfeit the throne before the game was over.” Bayo said.
“Meanwhile, have you sent Banks the wager you lost?” Andy asked. Tunde nodded and shrugged, his lips a grim line.
“Good, unless you fancy a re—match,” Andy said. “You should’ve seen your jaw drop wider with each successive ball she pocketed. Still fancy yourself a pro?” Andy was clearly having fun at his expense.
Jennifer made to ask if they meant ‘she’ as in Lade, but was interrupted by Theresa’s slurry words.
“That,” Theresa said, “and she trashed the bar like the piece of trash she really is.”
That answered her question.

***

Jennifer’s curiosity got the better of her. “What do you mean she trashed the place? What happened last night, guys?”
Theresa took it on herself, insensitive to the discomfort of her other friends. “Chika didn’t gist you? You should’ve seen the action film that girl acted last night. She stab one man im leg like that with broken beer bottle.”
Jennifer gasped. “Jeezus!” She looked at the others who conveniently looked away… Apart from Chika who was nonplussed.
“You didn’t really see that Theresa, did you?” Idara asked a bit tentatively, unsure if she should even bother commenting. “And remember that that guy she stabbed assaulted me too, so it was self defence.”
“It was a bar fight! However you chose to look at it Idara, it is what it is! And that is the height of irresponsibility! She is messed up! I wonder what Banks sees in her!’ Theresa quipped, looking to the others for collaboration. Only Chika nodded.
“It is called love where I come from!” Idara continued in support of Banks.
“Love my foot!” Chika muttered under her breath. “What does a gold digging ashewo know about love?”
“And after that embarrassing episode with her P.I.M.P the other night, I thought he would grow some sense… and see that girl for the creeping cockroach she is! She is a tout with a hot body!”
Idara couldn’t take the backbiting anymore. “Creepy cockroach! Tout! Seriously! I never knew we know her that well!”
Bayo cut in. “Aidy!”
“Babe stay out of this!” She had a deep sense of loyalty for her close friends, Bayo knew, and nothing he said or did would stop her from giving them a piece of her mind. Bayo just hoped it won’t come to blows.
“And you think you know her?” Chika asked in a tone dripping with disdain.
Idara turned to face Chika, her face now brimming with anger. “At least I’m not biased… I’ll recognize love anywhere I see it. And maybe if you weren’t so angry at Banks for not choosing your cousin, you would too!”
Chika blew up at that. “What! Don’t you dare use that piece of shit and Jennifer comparatively, please! That girl is like weed! Igbo! Negative publicity each time we hang out!
“That’s enough! I thought we came here to enjoy our first day as graduates together!” Andy said. Idara however was past stopping. She threw the grilled meat in her hand into the pool. “All she ever did was ggrow up poor! And from where I stand, I don’t see how any of that is her fault! I can’t believe you girls are capable of such malice! I can’t believe I’m friends with you both! I’m glad my parents are well off, but I refuse to be a snob!” That said, she walked out on them. Bayo hurried after her calling after her. The rest were stunned. They looked at each other, then as if scripted, they turned to see how Jennifer took the entire exchange.

.

The foremost objective in the filmmaking business is to maximise profit. Yes, asides the passion and love for the art of creating movies, every decision we take as filmmakers is guided by the underlying motive of pocketing some extra cash at the end of the day. So from, pre-production - finding a marketable script with a reasonable budget - to the process of turning the script into its finished product, the movie, we are always conscious of the cost and the projected income at the end of the day.

Notwithstanding all this, the need for recognition is a blatant and permanent fixture hanging at a corner which goes hand in hand with the filmmaker's passion for the art. Hand-in-hand in what sense, you might ask. Emotional responses are often regarded as the keystone to experiencing art, and the creation of an emotional experience has been argued as the purpose of artistic expression. As such, inasmuch as profit making is the major aim of filmmaking from the business perspective, the need to elicit responses in the form of feedback and recognition of creativity is quintessential to the art itself. Even the Christian Bible has it that after creating for the day, God assessed his work and gave himself an emotional response to it.. His creative self needed feedback and recognition. Recognition comes in the form of feedback from your audience and fans. 'We watched that movie you produced/wrote/shot/directed/lighted/acted in, and we....' An artist never wished for anything better than positive reviews and rave accolades... Okay maybe something better in the form of award recognition from the art industry itself.

Now, while some filmmakers are okay with 'popular demand' and racking up profit, some others are more ambitious, looking for that extra something that would easily set their art apart from the others. The difference between both kinds of filmmakers lies in their definition of the ideal - especially, the ideal ambition of a movie concept. I look at movies like The Refugees, Ayanda, Common Man, Fifty, Tell me sweet something, Timbuktu, 30 days in Atlanta, to mention a few, which are among a few recent award winning movies across Africa. I took my time to review these movies, you'd come to realize that while some of these movies' concepts falls into the 'popular demand' category, they all had that extra edge that put them above their (also recognized and artfully produced) counter parts.

The edge begins in the storytelling. A great concept built into a garden-variety, humdrum script, places the finished work at a disadvantage already. So, what should an ambitious filmmaker look out for while filtering through the myriad screenplays available for shooting? Among the criteria should include;

AMBITION

I keep throwing the word around, right? However, it goes without saying that most award winning movies are backed by stories that takes us out of what what we know and expect into an unlikely circumstances that throws a viewer into a whirlpool of questions and edge-of-the-seat suspense, waiting for reconciliation. Let's say for instance that the President of the U.S visits an African country and gets kidnapped! Blinks!!! How By Who To what end How would the writer clear the air after throwing up such dust? Such ambition could lead to a riotous feedback, which was its aim in the first place. A good example is 'Timbuktu'.

2. A WORLD OF ITS OWN

There are two worlds available to a good movie story - one that the audience knows and can relate to, and the other that is unknown to the audience but captivating enough. Award winning stories takes the audience into one of these two worlds, either to show us something about the world it knows that it doesn't know/haven't had a close up experience about (eg Common Man, The Refugees etc) on the one hand, or to show it something about the other world which it know nothing about but find captivating and giving it an entirely new lesson from this unknown world which can be of use to us in this world that we know about (eg, Dry, Timbuktu, Refugees etc).

3. AN UNDERLYING PROBLEM

In every good movie script, the protagonist(s) has/have a problem which must be resolved by the end of the story. In even better movie scripts, there is always the secondary problem usually personal which the protagonist must face and resolve - an inner problem aside from the obvious one, which the character might not even be aware of, or is battling privately. This is evident in Dr. Zara's personal recriminations about her childhood in the movie Dry, and can be seen in every award winning storyline ever written.

4. THE WOW FACTOR

This termed THE SUSPENSE OF DISBELIEF in screenwriting circles and refers to the the fact that the best movies show the audience a series of circumstances so appealing or extraordinary that the audience's average life pales in comparison. A good example is Common Man, which although the award it won wasn't based on its story line but it's lighting, and yet you would agree that the Common Man in the movie is far less common than the man on the everyday street. He is more fascinating. Great movies successfully walk us through each stage of these increasingly fantastic constructions and make us believe that they are real, when in fact they are far from real.

5. INTEREST

Go ask a Stripper how to keep an audience glued to its seat with unwavering attention and buying drinks for the next hour or so. High concepts, great characters, scintillating dialogue and the best cameras are not guarantees of a great movie. A great movie PIQUES interest. Ever wonder why virtually every alien movie doesn’t show you the alien until halfway through the movie or later? They hook your interest by promising you something out of this world. The best example of this is the original Alien movie which teased the audience with slow yet horrific reveal. We saw the alien’s nest. We saw its eggs. We saw its embryo. We saw its explosive birth. We heard it growing. We saw its tail. We saw flashes of its shadowy form. Not until deep into the movie did we see the actual alien.

This is the process of creating interest and there are so many ways to do it, but the basics are always the same: insinuate what the audience is going to see, play it up as big as you can within the context—action, emotion, sex, horror—then give them one small bite at a time, each taste expanding the promise in the audience’s mind, teasing a bigger taste to come. Create and maintain growing interest in the audience combined with any of the above listed elwments would most likely result in an award winning movie story.

Don't forget, the edge begins with the story.

I've got a presentation on Saturday, so, I'll probably be on the low till Sunday evening. Inasmuch as I'd love to spend every moment here, I've got a lot on my desk. I've got a script to finish and some business stuff to smoothen.

Anyway, I want to introduce http://nanowrimo.org to y'all. It stands for National November Writing Month but has an online writing camp for April, July and November. If you have a writing project you intend to finish by the end of April, be it Short story, script, poetry, or a longer novel, you're welcome to join the free camp and meet up with other writers who are in the same boat. You know what Writers' Camp is all about, but this one is virtual and free, so feel free to check it out if interested.

Godwin and his friends had settled to play poker at one of the game tables near the VIP bar. He picked up the new hand he was dealt and held it up with the other cards. He frowned in dissatisfaction. The new addition made his game even worse. He and his friends were on their fourth round of beer and were getting pretty loud.
“I fold!” Godwin dropped his cards on the table with a bang, muttering curses at the server who paid him no attention. His two friends called and the game continued without him. He took his beer and let his eyes wander about. That was when he noticed Idara and Lade walking past them towards the bar. Now was as good a time as any to make contact, he thought.
“Hey! Where are you going?” One of his friends asked him when he made to get off his chair.
Godwin nodded at the two girls. “Maybe, I’m not meant to be so unlucky tonight,” he said grinning.
His other friend blew a low whistle when he saw them. “They look alright. Do you know them?”
Godwin shrugged. “The one in the jump suit is an escort…the other must be a bird of the same feather.” He got to his feet and grunted when his friends wished him luck before returning to their game. Godwin went after the two ladies who were now at the bar. Idara was trying to get the bartender’s attention. Lade was scanning the rest of the place out of habit.
Lade saw Godwin approaching the bar with his sights on her and wrote it off – just another guy coming over to hit on her, a usual scene in a bar. The guy smiled as he approached like only a familiar person would and her heart faltered a bit. This guy had hit on her before. This guy knew who she was.
Lade tried to look away but his gaze held hers. She could hear Idara talking to the bar girl, her back turned to them but within earshot. This was exactly what she was afraid of. Worse even, she didn’t remember ever meeting him.
“You’re Nicky, right?” Godwin had a disarming smile on his handsome face when he arrived.
“No! Why?” Lade asked, frowning in heavy dislike.
Godwin chuckled to put her at ease. “Take it easy baby! I understand! You’re with someone tonight, probably with a different name. Nicky might not even be your real name.” By now he’d gotten Idara’s attention too who had collected their beers and had turned to hand Lade the Heinekeen and Big Stout she’d asked for. Godwin continued, favoring Idara with his charming smile. “After all, that’s what escorts do,” Godwin continued.
Idara’s eyes were wide saucers.
“Hi baby,” Godwin shifted his attention to Idara. “I would love to make your acquaintance too. You’re very lovely. What is your name?” Idara found herself at a loss, and turned to Lade.
Lade felt the anger creep up from somewhere in her lower back. It rose to her neck, found her tongue and loosened it. “Hey you!” That got his attention back, at least away from Idara. “I don’t know who you are, or what you think you’re doing, but…”
Godwin was surprised by her harshness. Did he come at her wrong? “Do we need to pretending, Nicky? It’s not like he’s watching. You could just… give me a way to contact you…we could fix a date for us. Ever since I saw you with Sting at TRUTH night club, I’ve been dreaming of the perfect cruise.” Godwin was puzzled at her friend’s discomfiture.
Lade thought she’d die of embarrassment. She could feel rather than see Idara’s shocked face, but she could tell Idara had taken a couple steps away from her. Still, grief wouldn’t help her now. She had to steel herself against it. She couldn’t afford to break down now... not in front of them. She just had to fetch Banks and tell him it was time to leave. This man, whoever he was, knew Sting; that was enough to scare her off.
“Sorry, but you’ve got me mistaken for another person.” She made to get past him but Godwin was quick to block her with his huge body frame.
“I wasn’t sure earlier, but I’m good with faces, and I know it’s you Nicky.”
“Get out of my way!” Lade screamed furiously. There was a speaker just beside her and the music was loud enough to drown her shout.
“Or… what?” Godwin hadn’t expected things to take this turn, but he’d had one drink too many to be cautious. He was sure she was…who she was, and he’d find out the reason for her reluctance.
Lade turned to leave in a different direction, but Godwin shifted in that direction to block her again.
“Aren’t you supposed to just name your price, baby? Do we have to make a scene?” His words had a bit of a slur to it. They had a small audience now. The ones closest to the bar were watching them now.
Lade spat on his face, blinding him for a quick moment. She tried to walk past him simultaneously, but he was quicker. He caught him by the arm and pulled her back.
Then, he slapped her.
It was happening again, Idara thought snapping out of her stupor like a deer startled by headlights on a highway. She left the bottles on the counter and ran for the pool boards towards the pool boards.
Meanwhile, Lade was seeing stars. She stumbled backwards from the force of his hand. She waited till her vision cleared, steaming in rage and shame. She looked around and saw the bottles on the counter. Without any thoughts for consequences, Lade grabbed for the big stout bottle by its neck and smashed its bottom on the counter, spilling most of the drink it contained. Half of her brain heard the bar girl shout to stop her, but it didn’t register. She turned to face Godwin.
Godwin’s eyes narrowed warily, but he was still smiling. She could only be bluffing. “Ooooh! You really are feisty, huh?” He laughed drunkenly. However, no one else was laughing.
“If you don’t get out of my way…I swear I’ll stick you!” She said quietly. She was really angry now. Lade made to walk past again.
It was for pride this time, not prudence. As before, Godwin stepped to block her path, his scowl matching her. He made to grab her and disarm her, but Lade was expecting his moves this time. She sidestepped easily and stabbed him deep in his right thigh.
Godwin’s wail was blood curdling. Surely, everyone in the game lounge had heard him. Lade stood over him when he fell to the floor clutching his bleeding leg. Blood was pooling on the floor under him. The quantity startled Lade. She looked up and found everyone watching her with shock. She let the broken bottle fall to the floor and backed away from him.
Godwin’s friends had been watching all along. They too, like most other people in the room had been amused by Godwin’s drunken attempt to proposition the girl. That was, till Godwin slapped the girl and she stuck him with a bottle. The joke had gotten old and sour fast. Their game and beers were forgotten and were already on their way over. Another girl had seen the blood and fainted. Others who were closest were backing away fast.
Lade saw Godwin’s friends coming. Her heart was beating faster than it ever did. Godwin’s friends didn’t look like they were coming over to ask questions. Lade saw Banks approaching from the corner of eye. Her attention shifted from her approaching assailants for a quick moment.
“Peter!” She cried.
A loud gasp swept across the room. It was Peter Bankole’s stunning babe who’d just stabbed someone at their graduation after-party. They saw Banks running towards the bar, having been alerted by Idara. The bar girl’s shouts for help were being drowned out by the music. The Dj was downstairs,
Whatever. Lade had more immediate concerns. The first punch from one of Godwin’s friends knocked the breath out of her and she fell to the floor in a heap. She curled up in a fetal position, expecting a kick next, but it never struck. She looked up to see Banks grab one of Godwin’s friends by the scruff of the neck and pull him away from her.
Banks swung him around and push him in the direction of Andy’s arrival. Andy’s fists were already clenched and his target was too disoriented to see the punch coming. Andy’s second punch knocked him down unconscious. Meanwhile, Godwin’s second friend swung at Banks who dodged his fist and sidestepped him to rush to Lade’s side, leaving him to Andy to deal with. He helped Lade up to her feet. There was a trickle of blood on her left nostril which he wiped with his thumb.
“Is she alright?” Andy asked.
Lade nodded, but was obviously still shaken. “Can we go home now?” She asked Banks.
Banks nodded. He took her hand and led her towards the staircase, looking downcast and unable to look any of the onlookers in the eye. The gossiping had already started.

***
Kunle’s cell phone vibrated on the bedside table. He was lying with Cindy in his arms under the sheets of his bed. They were both sweaty and were basking the after-glow of a just concluded love-making session.
“Leave it,” Cindy pleaded, hugging him tighter.
Kunle chuckled. “No way… What if it’s Sting?”
“It’s almost midnight.” Cindy complained but released him still. Kunle reached for his phone and scowled at the I.D. He picked the call.
“This is not a good time.” He said, sitting up, listening. “You did? Where?” He listened again. “Do you know where the college is located?” He listened again. “Good work, Taiwo. I’ll see you in the morning.” He ended the call and turned to grin at Cindy.
“What?” Kunle only smiled like that only when he had made a breakthrough of any sort to a really puzzling problem. And she knew what nut he’d just cracked. Somehow, they’d figured where Banks went to school.

***

Banks pulled up to the front porch of Mike’s house. Lade alighted before he even turned off the engine.
“Lade wait!”
Lade paid him a deaf ear and hurried into the house. Banks turned off the car and went to lock the gates. There was no sign of her elsewhere in the house even though he knew she’d be at the penthouse. He found one of her heeled shoes at the foot of the stairs. He picked the second one at the top of the stairs landing. He entered the room and frowned when he didn’t find her. He relaxed a bit when he heard sobbing in the bathroom, still his heart fell. She was shooting herself up again, he assumed. Not for the first time, he wondered if buying her the drugs hadn’t been a mistake.
He pushed the bathroom door open. Lade was sitting on the floor with her back leaning on the tub. She smiled at him with teary eyes.
“I didn’t…I couldn’t do it.” She pointed at the syringe at one end of the bathroom floor. It had been broken into two parts. “See, my love… no more…I can’t continue…I won’t…” She broke down sobbing.
Banks’ eyes misted…happiness that she didn’t...sadness at her misery. He blinked his tears back and entered the bathroom.
“Here you are!” His voice was solemn.
Lade got to her feet. “I’m sorry for tonight,” she said.
“No,” Banks interrupted. “I should have listened to you. We should’ve left when my sister did.” He went to pull her into a hug. “I’m the one to blame,” he said.
“Still, the embarrassment…in front of all your mates at school… I’m so sorry.” She replied.
He felt a tear wet his throat where she laid her head. He lifted her face up to look into her anxious eyes. Kiss me. Love me, they seemed to be saying. He kissed her then, and she closed her eyes, breathing a sigh of relief. She wrapped her arms around his neck tighter and pressed herself even closer to him. The kiss lasted no longer than a minute, but that was long enough to reassure her of his love. The shame and embarrassments really didn’t matter to him. He was hers, just as he’d promised. “Oh, Peter!” She whispered wondering what she’d done to deserve him. She burrowed her face into the warmth of his neck, inhaling the faint cologne and his perspiration. She tightened her hold around him for lack of anything better to do…or say…a suitable statement for all that she felt for him in that moment.
He indulged her, rocking them both back and front on his heels. She’d been tough with those strangers at the bar, but in his arms she felt soft…so vulnerable. He wanted to say something too. A reassurance. Or a re-declaration of love. But no, not tonight; not while he was battling with his self-recriminations. Those were his friends and colleagues who’d witnessed the debacle. The news would spread into even the remotest circle he was affiliated with. His girl – in a bar fight of all things? What had his life turned into? His mother will surely hear of this and would be sorely disappointed with him when she returned. Lade’s chances of being accepted by his family had dwindled even further tonight, and when his mother forbids his marriage to her, what would he do then?
Still, he held on to her, like that was all he could do for the moment. He held her for a long time, and after making love to her that night, he held her till the morning came.
“Marry me,” he said when he felt her wake up.
He felt her stiffen in his arms. “Today… I want you to be my wife, Lade.” He kissed the nape of her bare shoulder.
She turned in his arms to face him, searching his eyes. “You didn’t sleep a wink, did you?”
Banks shrugged. She was quiet for a long time. “I’ll marry you Peter Bankole. That’s all I want…to be your wife.” Banks smiled at that, but she wasn’t finished. “Just, not today,” she continued. “I won’t make a good wife today. Today is the day I quit…the drugs…everything…I must divorce them, if I must marry you.”
Banks nodded. “It’s a start,” he said, “It’s what I want too.” He leaned in to kiss her, and the morning began.

Tunde was bent over the pool table aiming the cue ball at the black ball. There were at least four other balls of a kind on the table which belonged to Bayo who stood opposite him with a resigned look on his face. Idara was standing beside him with a pout. Andy, Chika, and Theresa were close by watching the game.
The closest pocket was straight ahead, and he took the shot cleanly sending the black ball into the pocket he’d aimed for. He straightened with a sigh.
“Three wins in a row…this isn’t fun anymore.” Tunde straightened to his full height. He reached for his paper cup and gulped the last of his drink and turned to the rest of the group. That was when he noticed Banks and Lade approaching from behind them. Bayo and Idara noticed too.
“Mahn! This Banks must have iron balls,” Tunde started.
“Or he is as cautious as a sheep.” Bayo said and bleated. Idara chuckled. The rest of them turned and noticed them approaching.
Chika hissed. “No he is a sheep. Bringing her to the dinner was foolish enough, but here?
Theresa shared her sentiments. “They must have a death wish or something.”
No one made any more comments for they were within earshot. “Finally, my three musketeers and their ladies.” He and Lade smiled like it was a private joke. He shook the hands of his three friends and hugged their ladies. Idara had a hearty congratulatory kiss for him. Chika was unresponsive while Theresa was stiff.
“Seventeen-fifty-nine is a great hang out…you and your girlfriend better not shut it down for us,” Theresa said bitingly. Banks chuckled and apologized again for the disruption of her homecoming party.
Meanwhile, Bayo and Idara moved in to make Lade feel welcome. Banks was surprised when Lade asked after Jennifer while Andy asked after Vanessa. Vanessa left before the dinner party ended to resume her shift at the hospital. Jennifer hadn’t felt too good after the dinner. She’d driven home to rest.
A bar girl arrived with two bottles of Andrea Brut which they’d ordered before Banks and Lade showed up, and unscrewed the cork before leaving to get more drinking cups for the new arrivals.
“Give it to Bayo to share,” Tunde said, “he just lost three in a row. That’s sorry sport…so boring”
Banks laughed, counting the number of Bayo’s balls still remaining on the table even though the game was over. Idara handed the bottle over to her boyfriend, who took it with a shrug. Everyone but Lade and Banks held out there cups for him to serve them.
“Baby, too bad Andy is too chicken to put in a challenge.” Theresa quipped putting her arm around Tunde.
“No, I robbed him of his balls last week at Banks studio. He knows better than to allow me humiliate him in public.” He replied laughing.
Theresa turned to Banks. “What about you Mr. Best Graduating Student? How would you like to lose in front of your…friend?” She nodded at Lade without looking at her. Lade scowled.
“Yes, you’re a tougher opponent.” Tunde added.
“Not today!” Banks replied. “We didn’t plan to stay long; else I’d have loved a chance to prick that balloon growing in your head.”
“Good excuse.” Chika said. Andy smiled at that.
Lade had had enough of their smugness. She walked up to Tunde with a confidence that surprised everyone. “I’ll play you, Tunde,” She said. They were all quiet for a few seconds. Tunde’s face was the most surprised. He hadn’t expected any response from her. Especially not this. The bar girl returned with two tumblers.
“What?” Lade gave them doe-eyed looks. “You don’t think a girl can handle herself on a pool table?”
Idara was the first to recover. “I think I’ll love to see Tunde’s ego resized.”
“Ha! No freaking way!” Theresa returned unconvincingly.
Banks took the cups from the server and turned to Bayo who filled them. He handed Lade a cup with an I-hope-you-know-what-you’re-doing look. The server left them to their game. Tunde meanwhile was wary of the challenge. As if sensing his hesitation, his friends turned to him askance. Tunde pilled on his confident smile.
“I never asked for this,” he said, “I’m not sure I’ll enjoy beating a lady.” He turned to Lade, looking as sure of himself as possible, he said, “I’ll beat you. I don’t get chivalrous when I compete, man or woman regardless.”
Lade laughed like she would at a joke. She turned to Banks who stood beside her. “You better bet on me too,” she said, “Your friend is about to get the shock of his life.”
Banks smiled. He never remembered her being so sure of anything as this. “Go ahead, baby! I got my debit card,” he said aloud that everyone at the table heard him.
Lade took Bayo’s cue stick where he’d left it on the pool table. She began picking the cue balls out of the pockets and stacking them in the middle of the pool. Tunde moved in to help her.
“What makes you so sure you’d win?” Andy asked from he was perched on his stool. “You’ve not even seen Tunde play before?”
Tunde smiled as some of his confidence returned. He looked up at her to catch her watching him with an amused smile on her face.
Lade didn’t bother replying Andy’s question. “I bet you ten grand I’ll beat you in this first game.”
There was something akin to intimidation on her tone and everyone in their group caught it this time. They were all astonished and even more curious than ever. They looked at Tunde to check his reaction. Banks laughed at the look on his face.
Tunde was taken aback first by her how sure she was, and by the fact that a bet was involved. He’d be labeled ‘chicken’ if he mentioned he didn’t play for money. He knew she was playing a mind game on him, and was succeeding. He couldn’t afford to lose in front of his friends. He stiffened his upper lip and frowned.
“Make that fifteen… and I get the first shot for taking your challenge.”
Lade grinned. “Whatever you say…” She turned to Banks and winked. He shrugged in return. “He’s had it coming for long now.” Banks replied amused at what was happening. It also occurred to him that he might be the one losing fifteen large to Tunde. The guy had impeccable aim with a cue stick… and he couldn’t remember ever seeing Lade play.
By the time they were done arranging the balls, their group of spectators increased and everyone was talking about the bet all at once. There were eight yellow balls, eight green balls, one black ball and a white cue ball. Tunde’s first shot at the stack got the balls moving in every direction on the table. Two green balls made into adjacent pockets. Tunde grinned at the good start.
“Sweet!” Theresa exclaimed favoring Lade with a superior look like the game was already won. Lade didn’t look unpeturbed.
Tunde shot in a third green ball and a fourth. Chika joined in with Theresa egging him on. The rest of the guys turned to Lade who still wore her smile and waited patiently, sipping her wine. Tunde faltered at a fifth shot, pocketing a yellow ball instead.
“Urgghh!” Chika snorted in disappointment.
The smile left Lade’s face when Tunde stepped aside, pleased with his performance. Lade was oblivious of the attention. She studied the position of all the balls for a full minute, with a slight frown on her face. She began with the yellow ball closest to the cue and bent to take aim. She shot it in with accurate precision. She pocketed another even more easily. She sent a fourth in, a rebound almost pocketing the black ball. A fifth went in. The next was an obvious piece of cake to Tunde’s chagrin. She pocketed it. The seventh was the toughest but she took it like a pro, bouncing her cue ball on one of the table walls to send the cue’s rebound at it, pocketing it neatly.
Bayo laughed at that one.
“Oh my God! I should record this on my phone!” Idara said digging for her iphone from her purse. Even Banks was astonished.
Lade’s eight shot was an easy one. She looked up at Tunde and smiled. “You never stood chance a sweetheart. Maybe I should give you one, huh?” Tunde didn’t reply. Lade turned to Chika and Theresa. Theresa looked sullen and disappointed while Chika couldn’t contain her envy. Lade sniggered. She bent and took a wild shot, missing her eight shot purposefully.
She was doing it to humiliate him further, Tunde knew. He had four more shots on the board and there was no guarantee he’d get them all in one go. If she won him after giving him a chance to catch up… Pride made him drop his cue stick on the table.
“I forfeit,” he said. “You win, Lade. You’re an amazing player.” His face was flush with embarrassment.
The rest of their spectators were agog with excitement. Tunde looked tamed. Idara watched with amusement as Lade collected a congratulatory hug from everyone but the girls. She was beginning to decide that she liked the girl after all.
“Damn! That was cold, baby.” Banks said handing Lade her wine cup when she returned to his side. She drained her cup and joined the group as they adjourned to find themselves a vacant table. Andy and Bayo still talked about the game making loud jokes on the outcome.
“So Tunde, when do you plan to pay up?” Lade asked when they were all settled around the table, ignoring the stabbing looks Theresa sent her. She was really in her element tonight, they all noticed.
“He’ll do mobile transfer to my account tomorrow.” Banks interrupted any reply Tunde had. “Right?” All eyes turned to Tunde.
“Yes.” His tone was meek. Andy and Bayo latched on to that. Tunde waited for the next round of laughter to die down. “You must really have great players where you came from.”
The statement got her sober. That wasn’t something she thought she’d like to share. She looked at Banks who shrugged. “Well,” she began reluctantly. “Let’s just say, old habits die hard. My father once owned a gaming house. My brother was a die-hard gambler, so he thought me a lot of board and table games. They are both late now…” She paused, getting sentimental. There was no need mentioning the rest of it. She looked up at their faces. Some of them shifted uneasily. Chika and Theresa were stone-faced.
“Well, I’ve never seen a pool game end so quickly, except in the competitions.” Idara said.
“Me neither…we should have a toast to the pool king’s infamous demise.” Andy injected. They laughed.
“The bottles are empty,” Tunde mentioned.
Bayo checked and found it true. “Then, we’ll make do with the ones left in our cups,” he said.
Banks raised his glass. “Mine is empty. Lade’s too.”
“No more wine for me. I’ll go get us a beer.” Lade said getting to her feet, all inhibition gone for the moment.
“Heinekeen for me, don’t forget.” Banks said.
“I know.” Lade replied.
Idara got to his feet. “I’ll like me a beer too, Lade. I’m coming with you.”
Theresa and Chika gave her surprised glance, looking like she’d just gassed through her anus. She ignored them, took Lade’s hand and led her towards the VIP bar.
“You were really merciless in that game against Tunde. The guys will be talking about it for a long while yet.” Idara said, grinning at Lade.
“I’m glad I gave you all a new topic.” Lade was abrupt, wondering why anyone of them was suddenly being friendly.

***

The Awards Night was over. Eight PM at SEVENTEEN-FIFTY-NINE became as happy an hour as it rarely got, especially since the just graduated students of Paul Harris’ Art College decided to convert the place to their after-party venue. SEVENTEEN-FIFTY-NINE was one of the few bars in Ajao that could brag of a swimming pool section, but that was on lock down tonight. It had a huge space no doubt. The building was an old one storey painted blue, with an open bar out front, a drinking parlor with a dance floor in the middle at the ground floor, and a VIP bar at the upper porch and another section for indoor games. The swimming pool bar was at the back yard, but the lights over there had been shut down.
The after-party was in full swing when the Best Graduating Student arrived with his girlfriend. They all knew him. With exception for those who were close to him, they all thought he was single and would be arriving with Jennifer at most, or alone, as usual. Lade’s presence hadn’t been expected. Dressed in a jumpsuit she’d ordered earlier that afternoon, her looks and style had made an impression. Some were awed, others were envious. Even Sister Vanessa thought she looked dashing. Not that she cared. Inasmuch as she was having fun in the arms of the guy who was first in the league of first class graduates, she was worried by the crowd. They were on the mainland, and all it took was one person to recognize her. Just like at Theresa’s party. Nonetheless, it was also important Banks attended the after-party with the rest of them.
“One hour tops, sweetie.” Banks had whispered when Charity and the rest of her smiling LOC invited them personally. “We can do one more hour.” He could say no, but it just wouldn’t do his social rep any good. Lade had nodded in understanding, full of counterfeit smiles.
The crowd at the plaza was twice the size of attendees at the dinner party thanks to the promised open bar, Lade noted. It made her self-conscious. She felt Banks squeeze her hand, which he held in his as they made their way through the throng full of compliments at the ground floor, and continued up to the VIP section.

***

Godwin Umotong and his two friends weren’t celebrants or in any way related to the celebration. This was their usual after-work hang out. The trio were lower level management at a nearby detergent factory. They rarely failed to to hook up after their nine-to-fives. During the weekends, they hung out at Godwin’s place and really partied. Godwin used cocaine privately.
They’d just about finished with their couple-drinks-before-calling-it-a-night when the bar girl announced open bar and they decided to have fun while they were at it. Godwing was looking forward to getting drunk and probably picking a willing girl for the night. A few couples were at the little dance space at the VIP section, rocking each other to the music emanating from the speakers. Others were scattered in pickets, drinking and laughing while they discussed. The bar workers were having one of their busiest nights, it seemed.
Godwin’s attention was drawn from his work buddy’s analysis of the premier league soccer matches scheduled for the next day to a couple who’d just entered hand in hand. He felt his pulse flutter for a coule seconds. Was that not…? Godwin frowned in an attempt to remember the lovely young woman in the arms of the rakishly dressed guy. He couldn’t quite place her very familiar face, and strangely felt at a loss as a result. Was she not…? No, he couldn’t be sure…not from this distance. To hell with it anyway, he said in his mind. Whoever she was, she was with someone else tonight.

***

“Convicting him based on one person’s testimony alone is going to be tricky,” Officer Obinna said plucking at his moustache, “even if this source is his wife or girlfriend, still, we need hard, damnable evidence if Sting is to face life imprisonment.”
Officer Obinna and Charles were standing next to each other beside their cars parked outside a shopping mall - a meeting set up by Juliet. Officer Obinna still remembered Barrister Juliet with the complimentary card embossed in gold, who bailed out that ashewo he’d picked in frustration for leaving empty-handed after a raid at one of Sting’s property. The place had been as clean as a flute stick.
Charles had refused to meet him at the Drug law Office. Officer Obinna had arrived curious at the private investigator’s help offer in apprehending the state’s most wanted drug trafficker. He’d heard a bit about Charles to know he wasn’t a bullshitter. His dossier might lean, but he never settled for cheating-husband watch; always high profile cases, and he was yet to fail to score, he heard.
Charles threw his cigarette to the floor and stomped it with his boots. “Okay, maybe she is neither his wife or his girlfriend.”
That got Obinna frowning. “What good is she then?” He asked.
“Sting doesn’t strike me as one who’ll mix business and family. I doubt he even has a family. My source claims she used to be privy to his plans to some extent. She definitely knows more about his biz than you or I do and can help find that hard evidence you need.”
Obinna was incredulous. “Who is she?”
Charles shrugged. “She wants anonymity for now. I’d act as liason, all I ask is that you bring me to your boss.”
Obinna grunted. “So let me guess… she found Christ and wants an out.”
“I’ve got no answer to that.”
“And all she wants is full immunity and federal protection.”
“It’s not too much to ask, for what she is giving, is it?”
“I’ll have to hear her testimony first before I recommend it to Mr, Simon.”
Charles frowned. “You still don’t to get it or what? Sting won’t go down alone. There are people far above your pay grade who’d want anything but that. To take him down, we may have to take them all down as well. Everyone’s life who’s involved in this is at risk – my informant most of all. Your team are the only ones who’ve bothered raiding Sting’s properties for the past half-decade, and you’ve only done so twice…off the books if I should hazard a guess. Are you ready to get serious, or do I call my employer with the bad news?” Charles queried.
Obinna’s pause wasn’t out of hesitation. Breaks in his investigation into Sting’s operations had been few and far in between, but since Mr. Simon’s transfer to HQ, the issue was was gaining weight steadily. Obinna wanted to take down Sting if it was the only thing he achieved with his badge, and the fact that his new boss was someone he could trust, who hadn’t hesitated to lean his weight in the matter... however, Sting’s network was solid and impenetrable so far. Charles proposal nonetheless this sounded like a potential break. He wasn’t about to miss the bus and wonder after if it led to the destination it promised.
Obinna held out his hand for a hand shake. “Who said being the guy who took down Lagos State’s numero uno would be a free ride to fame, right?” Charles took his hand.

***

“There you are!”
Lade looked over her shoulder to see Banks enter the bedroom. She was standing in front of the dressing mirror. She returned her attention to the syringe in her hand. She pulled the cap back with her thumb to draw the brown liquid into the vacuum. “He’s gone?” she asked.
“Yes.” He put his arms around her and pulled her into him. Her body temperature was high. Still he nuzzled her cheek. “You’ll be fine,” he said looking at the face of her image on the mirror.
“I know...I know.” She placed the syringe and the spoon next to the Ziploc bag containing the remaining H (a significant quantity) on the plate which was on the dresser table. She spun around to face him “It’s just…Cindy going to the police to…to inform on him?” She raised a hand to cup his cheek, her anxiety no longer hidden away. “That is suicide, Peter! He’s got connections you won’t even believe he did.”
Banks sighed. He released her and went to sit on the bed. “What’s the alternative? Would you rather you did it? Someone has to, because as long as Sting is alive…or worse, free…” He shook his head. ”Don’t forget the attempted break-in at Theresa’s.”
Her worst fear – putting the others in danger…She glanced at the syringe, hating that her boyfriend and Charlie were right. Even if they left the state, it’d only be a matter of time before his family and friends were traced. If only he’d step out, so she could hide behind the high for a bit and forget. Her fingers touched the syringe before she realized it. She looked at him.
He got to his feet, like her mind was a rival gang’s graffiti signature on the wall and he’d just read the signs. He headed to the open doorway
“Is anyone up here?” They heard a familiar voice call from somewhere outside the room.
Banks and Lade were surprised. It was…Vanessa – with the methadone, Banks hoped.
“You left the gate open?” Lade asked him in a fierce whisper, her gaze falling to the syringe of heroin. “No?” Banks gave her the ‘wait here’ sign and exited the room.
Vanessa had climbed the final flight of steps from the main house up to the upper verandah. She was wearing a shirt over her scrubs and tennis shoes. She smiled when she saw Banks enter the balcony from the master bedroom, shutting the door behind him. “There you are!”
“Sister Vee! How did you get in?” Banks asked still bewildered.
“Relax! I have spare keys to the place.” Vanessa pulled him in for a hug. “I miss my little brother. How are you? Where’s Lade?”
“I’m fine! She’s fine…She’s inside, dressing up…just had a bathe.” He scratched his head.
“Okay…”
“Let’s go down to the sitting room. Are you coming straight from the hospital? That must’ve been a long drive. There is VitaMilk in the fridge – your favorite.”
Vanessa threw him a suspicious look as they descended the flight of stairs into the main house. He was acting nervous. She and Banks continued making small talk until they got into the kitchen. He fetched them both a cold bottle of milk. Vanessa sat on the vacant kitchen table. Banks bit the cork off both bottles and handed one to her. They both took a swig – Banks a longer one.
“You seem to need the drink more than I!” Vanessa pointed. Banks laughed. He sat at a stool and faced her. His breathing was more even. “I see you guys stocked up the house. Good.”
“We don’t go out at all. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
Vanessa raised an eyebrow mid-swig. “It no longer is?”
“No, it is. It’s a big city alright, but what’s the use tempting the devil.”
“I understand…outdoor guy suddenly finds himself cooped up behind doors as a matter of necessity. It gets boring when you run out of ideas to amuse yourself.” She took a swig.
Banks chuckled. “How does one amuse himself indoors? Indoors is for working or resting…”
“Or hiding…”
“Not for much longer I hope.” Banks said. “Have you heard from mom? She doesn’t call me these days.”
Vanessa shrugged. “She doesn’t call me much either. The last time was…” she paused to think. “…the day you left the house with Lade. She said she and Susan were extending their trip, and that I should take care of the house. Something along those lines.”
Banks nodded.
“Speaking of which…” Vanessa turned to her hand bag.
“Did you bring the drugs?” Banks asked.
Vanessa paused for a second, and turned to give him a white envelope. “No… there was a little mix up with the shipping.”
Banks couldn’t hide the disappointment in his face. “Oh!” he managed.
Vanessa looked concerned. “Is she that bad? Should I… no!” She sighed. “I may have to write a prescription after all.”
“How soon can it be done?” Banks asked.
Vanessa hesitated.
“I wonder what you are afraid of! Write the damn prescription, I’ll pick the drugs up myself.”
“Picking it up is not the problem. Most pharmacists usually call to confirm prescriptions for those kinds of drugs. But, it’s alright. I’ll fill you a prescription tomorrow at work. Come in at lunch break. I’m sure you’ll be able to buy it at St. Paul’s General Hospital.”
Banks nodded. “Tomorrow then… So, what’s in the letter?” He took a swig of his cold milk.
“Andy brought it to the house this morning. It was given to him by Jennifer who told him it was from your faculty dean…something to do with an awards presentation and dinner night,” she said.
Banks took the letter frowning. “Neither of them called me,” he wondered aloud. It was his name on the back of the envelope alright. He heard the sound of shuffling feet approaching and looked up at Lade as she entered the kitchen. She was wearing a blue, sleeveless, ankle-length gown and yellow flip-flops.
“Sister Vanessa! It was your voic***

“There you are!”
Lade looked over her shoulder to see Banks enter the bedroom. She was standing in front of the dressing mirror. She returned her attention to the syringe in her hand. She pulled the cap back with her thumb to draw the brown liquid into the vacuum. “He’s gone?” she asked.
“Yes.” He put his arms around her and pulled her into him. Her body temperature was high. Still he nuzzled her cheek. “You’ll be fine,” he said looking at the face of her image on the mirror.
“I know...I know.” She placed the syringe and the spoon next to the Ziploc bag containing the remaining H (a significant quantity) on the plate which was on the dresser table. She spun around to face him “It’s just…Cindy going to the police to…to inform on him?” She raised a hand to cup his cheek, her anxiety no longer hidden away. “That is suicide, Peter! He’s got connections you won’t even believe he did.”
Banks sighed. He released her and went to sit on the bed. “What’s the alternative? Would you rather you did it? Someone has to, because as long as Sting is alive…or worse, free…” He shook his head. ”Don’t forget the attempted break-in at Theresa’s.”
Her worst fear – putting the others in danger…She glanced at the syringe, hating that her boyfriend and Charlie were right. Even if they left the state, it’d only be a matter of time before his family and friends were traced. If only he’d step out, so she could hide behind the high for a bit and forget. Her fingers touched the syringe before she realized it. She looked at him.
He got to his feet, like her mind was a rival gang’s graffiti signature on the wall and he’d just read the signs. He headed to the open doorway
“Is anyone up here?” They heard a familiar voice call from somewhere outside the room.
Banks and Lade were surprised. It was…Vanessa – with the methadone, Banks hoped.
“You left the gate open?” Lade asked him in a fierce whisper, her gaze falling to the syringe of heroin. “No?” Banks gave her the ‘wait here’ sign and exited the room.
Vanessa had climbed the final flight of steps from the main house up to the upper verandah. She was wearing a shirt over her scrubs and tennis shoes. She smiled when she saw Banks enter the balcony from the master bedroom, shutting the door behind him. “There you are!”
“Sister Vee! How did you get in?” Banks asked still bewildered.
“Relax! I have spare keys to the place.” Vanessa pulled him in for a hug. “I miss my little brother. How are you? Where’s Lade?”
“I’m fine! She’s fine…She’s inside, dressing up…just had a bathe.” He scratched his head.
“Okay…”
“Let’s go down to the sitting room. Are you coming straight from the hospital? That must’ve been a long drive. There is VitaMilk in the fridge – your favorite.”
Vanessa threw him a suspicious look as they descended the flight of stairs into the main house. He was acting nervous. She and Banks continued making small talk until they got into the kitchen. He fetched them both a cold bottle of milk. Vanessa sat on the vacant kitchen table. Banks bit the cork off both bottles and handed one to her. They both took a swig – Banks a longer one.
“You seem to need the drink more than I!” Vanessa pointed. Banks laughed. He sat at a stool and faced her. His breathing was more even. “I see you guys stocked up the house. Good.”
“We don’t go out at all. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
Vanessa raised an eyebrow mid-swig. “It no longer is?”
“No, it is. It’s a big city alright, but what’s the use tempting the devil.”
“I understand…outdoor guy suddenly finds himself cooped up behind doors as a matter of necessity. It gets boring when you run out of ideas to amuse yourself.” She took a swig.
Banks chuckled. “How does one amuse himself indoors? Indoors is for working or resting…”
“Or hiding…”
“Not for much longer I hope.” Banks said. “Have you heard from mom? She doesn’t call me these days.”
Vanessa shrugged. “She doesn’t call me much either. The last time was…” she paused to think. “…the day you left the house with Lade. She said she and Susan were extending their trip, and that I should take care of the house. Something along those lines.”
Banks nodded.
“Speaking of which…” Vanessa turned to her hand bag.
“Did you bring the drugs?” Banks asked.
Vanessa paused for a second, and turned to give him a white envelope. “No… there was a little mix up with the shipping.”
Banks couldn’t hide the disappointment in his face. “Oh!” he managed.
Vanessa looked concerned. “Is she that bad? Should I… no!” She sighed. “I may have to write a prescription after all.”
“How soon can it be done?” Banks asked.
Vanessa hesitated.
“I wonder what you are afraid of! Write the damn prescription, I’ll pick the drugs up myself.”
“Picking it up is not the problem. Most pharmacists usually call to confirm prescriptions for those kinds of drugs. But, it’s alright. I’ll fill you a prescription tomorrow at work. Come in at lunch break. I’m sure you’ll be able to buy it at St. Paul’s General Hospital.”
Banks nodded. “Tomorrow then… So, what’s in the letter?” He took a swig of his cold milk.
“Andy brought it to the house this morning. It was given to him by Jennifer who told him it was from your faculty dean…something to do with an awards presentation and dinner night,” she said.
Banks took the letter frowning. “Neither of them called me,” he wondered aloud. It was his name on the back of the envelope alright. He heard the sound of shuffling feet approaching and looked up at Lade as she entered the kitchen. She was wearing a blue, sleeveless, ankle-length gown and yellow flip-flops.
“Sister Vanessa! It was you I heard! Welcome!” Lade’s smile was shaky at its best.

CHAPTER TEN

“Kunle, how you take disappear last night you no tell me?”
Kunle looked up from his phone to see Sting exiting the hospital reception. Sting had an ugly frown on his face and his voice was gruffer than usual. He wore a big white shirt, green combat shorts and a white pair of canvas that covered his ankles. ST. THOMAS’ HOSPITAL was designed in block letters on a huge signpost hung on the wall behind him.
Kunle was leaning on Sting’s white TUNDRA truck parked outside the building. “One of my boys caught a case… needed someone to post him bail.” Sting raised his eyebrow in surprise. Kunle shook his head at the look. “Breaking and entering stuff…none of our biz.”
Sting threw him a set of keys and walked around the truck to the shogun door. Kunle unlocked the car and got in. Sting climbed in beside him and looked at the back seats to check on the duffel bag on the floor behind the driver’s seat.
“How’s Spencer doing?”
“Asked about you…” Sting lit a cigarette. The ensuing silence was thick.
Kunle interrupted his quiet brooding. “What are the docs saying?”
Sting sighed and blew out the smoke. “He’s in bad shape. They are moving him to a teaching hospital at Surulere. Seems he’ll be on his back longer than I thought…” He took a longer drag. The dude was lucky to be able to sit up, the doctor had said. Eight weeks at least…
“Anything yet on Nicky?” Sting asked. Sting’s free hand balled into a hard fist when Kunle shook his head. He realized and released them. Hectic months ahead only… and the ones up for a promotion had either broken out, or broken a hip. He tossed the finished butt out. “It has been four days now! Are you sure I shouldn’t get someone else on this?
“It won’t be long now. Believe me.”
Sting sat up like he’d been stung on the back. “Your word doesn’t mean shit to me yet! But I’ve got a lot going on now to do it myself. So, here’s your shot Kunle. Make me believe you! ” He leaned back on his chair with a sigh. “You know where Governor’s park is?”
“Sure! Who are we meeting?” Kunle started the car and joined the traffic outside.
“Mr. Lobos’ contact guy!” Sting lit another cigarette.

DandyPearl:
Yeah v been thinking on the same note. We can only pray all his well*Sighs*

All is well. Just a little surge in responsibility details. Will be back at my comfort zone before long.

vonn:
Awesome story you've got here...but, in the course of reading, I noticed you typed some sentences in the present tense whereas you're writing in the past. Do well to take the correction.

It's in past tense actually, but since I was writing a script even as I was writing this, I found it hard to switch between past and present, considering that scripts are written in present tense.

But thanks for noting. I'd give it to a proofreader before I self-publishing anything.

tobex23:
Me:

Logs on to www.nairaland.com


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You deserve an apology from me, and since this is our medium... I'm sorry. Thanks for following. I'll update chapter ten when this workhouse settles. Tonight very probably. Hope y'all have a nice weekend ahead.

“The alarm company say the house alarm was blaring when they got there,“ Tunde said over the phone. Banks turned to look at Lade who was in the front passenger seat beside him as he drove. She had found a pool game on his Galaxy Tablet and was engrossed with learning the controls. He turned his head back to the road ahead of him.
“Did they get him?” He felt Lade look up at him but acted like it wasn’t an interesting conversation.
“Yes. The police I’d called was there ahead of them… Theresa gave the security guys permission to unlock the gates and they found the intruder passed out on the floor close to the fence.”
“How come?” Banks was surprised. He looked at Lade out of the corner of his eyes. She’d returned her attention to the game.”
“Once the alarms go on, the fence becomes electrified. He must’ve gotten electrocuted on his way out. They found the kitchen window had been smashed. Theresa’s parents told her to press charges on their behalf.”
“Theresa! How is she?” Banks asked, changing the phone from one ear to the other.
“She’s been with me since homecoming. She’s angry. Everyone else worried. I’m driving her to the station to give her statement. I got the family lawyer to persuade her parents not to cut their trips short because of this.”
“Okay, but be careful. I don’t want you or her anymore involved in this than you already are.” Lade gave him another quizzing look. He gave her an assuring smile. “Maybe you should send me the bill…it’s the least I can do…” He listened to Tunde talk to someone else he assumed was Theresa.
“Theresa says no need for that,” Tunde said. “No! I said go Bleep yourself Banks!” Banks heard Theresa’s furious voice shout in the background. Tunde chuckled. “You heard the lady. For all intents and purposes, this is just a breaking and entering case. That’s what her parents’ lawyer said too. What I can’t explain is how we managed to tip the police off before the alarm went off.”
Banks scowled, thinking fast, then, “I wasn’t the one who tipped them off either. Was it Theresa? Ask her…” Lade had turned off the tablet and was watching him now. So much for keeping her out of it.
“Put it on loudspeaker.” She ordered in a whisper. Banks shook his head.
Tunde was silent for a while. “Unless the tip off voice was female, otherwise…I’ve got no clue either.”
“Good, anonymous tip it is then. Now about that other thing I told you about… Obviously, our rendezvous won’t go as planned.”
“Yes, I made alternative arrangement though. I’ll text you the dealer’s number. Theresa’s manager says he’s solid. He handles their company artiste’s bucket list.”
Banks gasped, “Theresa’s manager! Theresa is aware of this?”
“Of course! I’m a branding consultant Banks, and my line of work doesn’t bring me in direct contact with drugs or addicts. Theresa’s colleagues at the label however…”
Banks sighed. “Thanks for the secrecy, and the vote of confidence! Text me the number ASAP!” He ended the call and ignored Lade’s glare. He heard her sigh and watched her from the corner of his eye. She leaned back on her chair. He looked away too late when she looked up at him.
“What’s going on Peter? Where are we going?”
Banks sighed and reached for her hand. “Do you trust me?” He asked her
Lade nodded, still not relaxing her quizzing glare.
“Good. We’ll talk when we get back. I promise.”
“That’s what you said after I saw you with that guy at the supermarket. You think I haven’t noticed we are headed for the mainland?” No response. “Please, why won’t you just tell me?”
“I promise. I’ll tell you everything when we get back. Just trust me.”
Lade realized there was no changing his mind. She was too weak to argue anyway. She mopped her sweaty forehead with the back of her black sleeved jacket. She thumbed her nose. Whatever respite being close to him gave her, was wearing off. She needed that fix else she would be in for a long night. She stole a glance at Banks, wondered what he was up to and closed her eyes when she could no longer think, welcoming the fatigue as it came.
She woke to Banks shaking her. He had alighted and was on her side of the car holding the door open for her.
“We’re here.”
Lade sat up. The world swam in her eyes. She grabbed her seat belt with one hand and closed her eyes till the woozy feeling passed. She opened her eyes to find Banks watching her.
He took her hand. “Hey, are you okay?”
Lying was of no use. She shook her head. “Isn’t it obvious?” She asked him. “I’m queasy inside…” she raised her shaky hands to show him. “…and shaking like a leaf. I knew an outing was a bad idea. Where are we?”
She turned her head slowly to look around and got startled when she saw the SilverBird Galleria on the other side of the street outside the Wrangler’s driver window. She scratched her neck and the crook of her arm while she looked around. There were a few cars parked at the wide compound outside the building. It looked quiet and empty otherwise. She looked at her wristwatch. Quarter past ten. She turned to Banks seething with anger.
“What are we doing at Lekki at this late hour, Peter?”
“…apart from coming to see the last movie of the day at La Galleria?” Banks shrugged.
“Do you know how risky this is for me? If someone recognized me in there…”
Banks offered her his hand again. “Don’t worry. We are not going in there, except, maybe to buy ice-cream and biscuits for the drive back home.”
Lade shook her head, even more confused. Banks urged her on, so she took his hand and alighted. He locked the car with its remote key and escorted her across the road, her hand still in his. The Jeep was left where they’d parked along the road as they walked up to the gate, and past it along the drive way that winded around the building’s broad side on to the parking lot which faced the front entrance. The building was tall and tiled all the way to the top. It had security lamps lighting up the entire place.
A low whistle disrupted the grave quietness of the place. Banks stopped. Lade looked around to find the source blowing cigarette smoke at the backyard corner of the building. It was darker over there. Lade hesitated when Banks started leading her in that direction. She pulled her hand free of his grasp. She was shivering in the harmattan cold. She put her hands into her denim pant pockets to hide their shaking. She looked ill.
Banks smiled and spread his hands. “It’s alright Lade, you’ll be alright. Come on.” He continued towards that corner of the building the whistle had come from.
She was reluctant but her curiosity got the better of her. She followed him. He met up with a guy and shook hands with him. They got talking before she caught up with him. It wasn’t the guy he’d met outside the supermarket. This guy was much younger, not more than twenty-two. He wore a beanie and had a side bag slung over his shoulder. Most importantly, she didn’t recognize him.
He smiled at her, but didn’t act like he knew her from anywhere. “Hi!”
Lade nodded in reply, relieved he probably didn’t know her either. She wasn’t in the mood for socializing. Why were they here anyway?
The dealer unslung his bag, unzipped it and took out a medium-sized brown envelope which he handed to Banks. “Everything is in there.”
Lade’s eyes widened in recognition as Banks took the envelope from him. He caught on but ignored her. He took out his wallet, counted out some bills. “ten grand, right?” The dealer nodded. Banks handed him some bills. The dealer took the money and counted. He stuffed the money in his back pocket, took another look at Lade, and back at Banks.
“What about you? Some coke…I’ve got weed too.” He patted his side bag. Banks shook his head.
“No thanks.”
The dealer nodded in understanding. “Take care of her then. I hope you call again.” He walked past them towards the road.
Lade was still stupefied. “Peter…”
“Let’s walk. If security meets us here, we’ll be searched. It’s quite late to be hanging idly around.”
Lade nodded. They walked beside the broad side of the building back to the drive way.
He handed her the envelope. “Take this. I’ll go buy the ice cream and cookies…” He took out the remote key to the Jeep. “Take care of yourself in the car. You got everything you need.” She shook her head but took the envelope and the key. She stopped. They were almost at the driveway. Banks turned to catch her questioning glance. “What?” He asked. He took out a handkerchief and dabbed her face. “Jeez! Sweating under all this cold…”
She shook her head in confusion. “Why?”
Banks sighed. He tucked a stray lock behind her ear wondering if he should be honest with her. There was no time to think up an excuse. “Honestly?” He asked.
She nodded.
“Well, for one, you need it, like badly. You’re a mess right now, and I know it’s only going to be worse in the morning. You don’t have to slip out in the middle of the night for a smoke or whatever. I care about your needs. I understand them.”
Her eyes got shiny fast. She blinked. She sniffed and thumbed at her nose. “What is the second reason?” She asked.
Banks hesitated. He grabbed her by the shoulder. “When my sister comes through with the drugs, I don’t want you to choose to go into full recovery because you don’t have the choice of taking the real thing to alleviate your needs. When you decide to leave this life behind for the new chapter we agreed we’re going to build together, it won’t be for lack of opportunity to relapse, but because you really want to quit. And hey, another way to look at it is, I’m doing this for my ego as well as for you. If I won’t lose you to Sting, it would be worse if I lost you to the drugs.”
Lade smiled, nodding. “I understand.” She didn’t. Could this be love? Banks kissed her forehead and released her. “Let’s go,” he said. Lade put the envelope in her jacket and they parted ways.

***

The message came in as he toweled himself. The phone rang in his trouser pockets. He retrieved it from where he’d hung it and took out the phone. He frowned when he saw the CALLER ID – Cindy. He had given her his number for emergencies. He opened the message and felt his blood turn cold as he read it, even though he’d just had a hot bath. He dialed Tunde’s number.
Tunde picked at the first ring.


***

It was after dusk. Pedestrians were almost non-existent, but there were cars driving past every now and then. None of them paid attention to the white dodge parked opposite the one-storey mansion owned by Theresa’s parents. All Taiwo needed was for the street to be clear for a minute. He got his chance soon enough.
He crossed the road straight to the point where scaling the fence had seemed easier when he first cased the place. He checked the street one last time – no one. He leaped for a hand hold on the top of the fence. He pulled himself up, positioning his head to avoid the barb wires. He got himself a foothold. The barb wire barely scratched his right arm. The moon-lit road behind him suddenly got illuminated from the headlights of an oncoming car. He scrambled to the top of the fence. The barb wire caught his jean above his ankle. He paused to free the piece of clothing and jumped into the wide compound landing in a crouching position.
There were no lights anywhere at the house. The fountain in front was dead, still water in its bed. The garage was locked like the rest of the house. Taiwo could remember from his first time in the house that there were metal protectors behind all the doors and windows, except the kitchen window. That was his pre-planned point of entry.
Taiwo found his way around the house to the kitchen door. He got close enough to peer through the window. He’d been right. There was nothing barring the window from within.
He looked around for something to break the windows with. Nothing. No wait. The interlocking stones on the floor… One had to be loose somewhere. He set out to search. He turned the corner of the building and made out the pool with the reflection of a young moon wading over it… and the shed. There were four lounge chairs under a shed. The chairs looked heavy enough and will definitely break the windows. Looking around that corner of the yard, he made out two grilling machines in the dim light, resting by the wall of the building. Grilling stones… he walked to the machines and found stones on the floor around them, hence he didn’t bother opening the machines. He took two of the heaviest ones and headed back around the building to the kitchen window.
Taiwo threw the first one at the window… Smash… What happened next was unexpected. Taiwo heard a click when all the security lights outside turned on simultaneously, and then a deafening noise which, due to nervous surprise, he recognized as an alarm a full twenty seconds later. The noise was so loud, Taiwo was sure it would be heard a mile away. He had only one thought on his mind now… getting out.
He ran all the way back to his point of entry. He thought he could hear sirens approaching in the distance and flight turned to frenzied fright. He clambered clumsily up the fence, cursing his luck. His first attempt at a break-in and it had to be a house with security alarms and police on standby. He got a hand-hold at the top of the fence. He pulled himself up but his shoulder hit the barb-wire. Its razor sharp edge cut into his skin through his shirt. However, that wasn’t why he screamed. A jolt of electricity shot through his body that he quickly released his hold and fell awkwardly back into the compound.
Thump! The back of his head hit the interlocking stones and he passed out.