₦airaland Forum

***


It was past dusk when they arrived at Theresa’s house. There were a lot of cars parked along the curb of the street outside the fenced compound that it took Banks a while to find a decent parking space. Lade wondered if she was a famous person or if the party was a social event. She evidently had a lot of friends who drove turning out en masse for her homecoming party.

“You’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried.” Lade replied and alighted after him. She stopped to check her reflection on the convertible’s wound up window. They’d stopped at a boutique full of designer clothes and had refused to be overwhelmed by all the latest trending feminine clothing that hung everywhere, each with exorbitant price tag. Moreover, they were in a hurry. She’d chosen a red colored BURBERRY evening dress and a simple swim suit which she now wore underneath. Banks had bought her a pair of turquoise ear rings and a gold necklace despite her protest at the price and glamour.

“Trust me, every guy in there will be jealous of me.” Banks said. He’d changed at the studio to a gray body-hugging polo, white shorts that went past his knees and sneakers.

She looked at him and smiled when he blew her a kiss. He walked around the car and offered her his arms. Her three inch heels put her on the same height as Banks. First thing Lade noticed on entering the compound wasn’t reassuring. Security was lax at the place. Apart from the gateman who was presently taking a break at the security lodge beside the gate, there was no one watching out for all the cars and the owners present at the house.

They entered from the front door. Two heavily muscled bouncers met at them at the entrance, neither was armed. Both of them recognized Banks, hugged him, shook her hands warmly and let them through.

The party was in full blast beyond them. Party music was playing at a very high volume, none of which they’d heard from outside. The sitting room had been cleared of all furniture and was full of party invitees in their groups drinking and talking. The ladies were all young and most were wearing their party gowns. A few had stripped to their bikini sets. The guys wore dressed like Banks. Some had gotten bare-chested in the course of the evening. The air was exhilarating with all the smiles, jokes and gossip going around.

Banks and Lade were noticed immediately they stepped in. Banks was a well-known face in these circles, while Lade was an unfamiliar head-turner.

“Straight to the bar,” Banks said holding her hand in his. They got appreciative waves and ‘hellos’ as they made their way through. Banks got stopped a few times during which he introduced Lade as his girlfriend. Lade’s smile seemed genuine. It wasn’t a tough sell. They ordered a dry martini for Banks and long island tea for Lade and stood by the bar waiting for their drinks. The buzz had increased in the room and Lade caught a few surreptitious glances thrown her way.

“It’s a good thing I’m not over-dressed or anything. I wonder what they’re talking about.”

“Sweetheart, don’t be so self-absorbed.”

Lade frowned at him. ”First time you use an endearment on me,” she said, “you’re patronizing me. Not cool, sweetheart. Where are your friends?”

Their drinks arrived. The bartender told them Theresa was at the pool at the back of the house. Banks led Lade towards a back exit through the loud laughs and free, whispered gossips among the ladies; hidden winks, stares and unreturned toasts at his good fortune landing such a hot babe from appreciative guys. Unconsciously, his free hand went to her waist which he knew swung seductively even when she wasn’t trying. He cringed when the word ‘Jennifer’ came floating back at him. The look Lade gave him told him she heard it too.

The dining section had been cleared too, and there was an exit that led through a long corridor to the back. The kitchen was locked.
“
Is that what this is about?” She made her voice heard over the music.

“What?” Banks was puzzled.

“Showing me off… This isn’t much about me meeting your friends than it is about Jennifer meeting me.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You’re supposed to be with Jennifer – at least almost everyone who knows you here thinks so. You’re clearing the air, especially with her.” She stopped at the exit.

Banks stopped too and drained the last of his martini. They stepped aside for a couple to enter from the back yard. The girl was wearing a swim suit while the guy had swim trunks on. They were wet from swimming and were drying up with towels and laughing at some stupid joke about an embarrassed guy with a boner in the pool. They recognized Banks and exchanged greetings after which they continued on their way.

“So…” Lade resumed looking at him for an explanation.

“Would it be bad if I killed two birds with one stone? Meeting my friends in public like this… it was bound to happen. And if you ask me, I’ll say it is high time. I also wanted to show you a glimpse of my world.” Banks shrugged. “But I can take you home if you want. The last thing I want is to upset you. Not today.”

Lade sighed and shook her head. “We shouldn’t stay long. It’s nightfall already and I should be getting back.” She looked outside at the dark sky.

“I agree. Let’s find my friends, dance to a couple songs and then excuse ourselves all in an hour.”

Lade nodded, “Okay,” she said and took his hand in hers.

***


The sun was still going down far away to the west. Cindy saw the HILUX pull up outside the compound from her vantage point at her bedroom window. It was Sting no doubt, probably with Lade whose cell phone was still not going through. She frowned when he alighted from behind the wheels. Spencer hadn’t driven him today. It didn’t seem Lade was with him either for no one else alighted with him. Then she heard him shouting at the hair salon girls downstairs. Sting didn’t seem to be in a good mood.

She went to get herself a cigarette - the third to last in the pack. There was an unfinished bottle of beer on a table in her bedroom. She lighted the cigarette and took her beer bottle back to the window wondering what was going on. If they didn’t get Nicky out before six pm tonight, she was going to spend the weekend there. Cindy was sure Sting wouldn’t want that. So what was he doing here if he hadn’t gotten her out yet?

Cindy didn’t have to wait long enough for the reply to her numerous questions. She’d just thrown the butt of her cigarette out of the window when she heard the heavy knock on her bedroom door. No one else knocked at her door like he. She hated his guts but was afraid; too afraid for her life to go against him.

“I know you’re in there bitch! Open this damn door or I’ll put it down.”

Cindy wasn’t the least surprised at his vehemence. She was used to it. She placed her almost empty beer bottle on the table and hurried to the door and unlocked it. The door was pushed open from outside and it hit Cindy on her fore head. She yelped and cursed, and stepped back into the room rubbing her forehead. She had a pained expression on her face when Sting walked into the room with his characteristic scowl on his face. He looked past her into the room as if searching for something.

“Where is she?” He asked.

“Where is who? Nicky?”

“Good! Your old age hasn’t reduced your smartness Cindy. Yes, where is Nicky?”

Cindy frowned. “You no get my text? Drug law come arrest am this morning. She never come back since! Na me suppose ask you where is she!

Sting glared at her his eyes full of venom but knowing that it would be useless to waste it on the wrong person. Cindy could tell something else was going on by now. She was puzzled.

“You better be telling the truth that you don’t know where she is Cindy, because if I find her and realize you were holding back on me… I’m glad you know me well enough.”

“Wetin you dey talk about? You don find am for station you no see am? Wetin de happen Sting?” Cindy was a couple steps towards full panic mode now for all her hatred for him had moved backstage and what she felt was confusion as to what was going on.

Sting sighed in frustration. The stupid bitch actually knew nothing about her friend’s whereabouts. He kicked the door shut against eavesdroppers at the corridor outside and went to sit on a chair in the room. “Wetin you get?” He asked keeping his irritation out of his voice while he got his phone out of his pocket.

“You mean, wetin I no get? Them waka from apartment to apartment. I had to flush everything. I sure say all the girls do the same thing.”

Sting muttered a curse. He knew what it cost him to keep the girls high and happy. He had scraped everything he had to put together Mr. Monty’s order. The girls would have to make do with hemp and beer for a few days but that wasn’t his immediate problem. “Give me a cigarette.”

Cindy was surprised but brought him the packet and a lighter. Sting lit up and asked her to light up the last one. She did. They took those initial puffs in silence, an addict and her dealer slash landlord with a lot of buried history, smoking together for the first time in almost a decade.

Sting cleared his throat. “My lawyer said she’s no longer there,” he said.

Cindy frowned and shook her head in incomprehension.

“A lawyer from one fancy-named chamber came and got them to drop all charges against her. According to him, they didn’t have any evidence to charge her with and this unnamed lawyer made them see reasons.”

Cindy was surprised. A lot of things went through her mind but none of them made any sense. “She wouldn’t run away Sting. There must be an explanation.”

“You’re her only friend here Cindy. How do you think she got a lawyer?”

Her mind immediately went to Banks, but there was no way she was going to tell Sting about that. She went to her refrigerator and got out a bottle of beer. “You want one?”

“Don’t change the topic Cindy. And yeah, one won’t be bad.”

She got out a second one and threw it at Sting who caught it neatly. “Sorry, I no get opener.” She opened hers with her teeth. Sting did the same.

“I sabi say you no trust me Sting. I don go through everything wey we talk about for my mind. I no sabi how she take get lawyer.”

“Hmm! You heard about that boy I met her with at Rosa’s bar. Is she still seeing him?”

Cindy shook her head. “She told me about that night and I advise am say make she no talk to the boy again. If she been collect him number, she no tell me. But I go de surprise say na’im.”

Sting drank in silence, keeping his thoughts to himself. “Thanks for the beer,” he said after the bottle was empty. He got to his feet. “If I find out it was that boy, I’ll kill him, like I did that your lover boy. What was his name again?”

Cindy was quiet. The memory was so painful especially brought up by him. Her jaws set and she bit her teeth together.

“I asked you a damn question Cindy!” he bellowed walking towards her intimidatingly.

“Dennis!” She shouted. “Dennis Anana!”

“Good thing you remember. You should tell her while you still can. She’s very beautiful… better than you were when you were her age… Where your heart is, is where your home is… You should tell her that I don’t share my girls’ hearts with outsiders. Their bodies maybe, but for a fee.” He chuckled and exited the room.

Cindy repressed her sobs. Love was supposed to be a beautiful thing. Somewhere else maybe, but in this world of hers, it only brought heartache and ruined lives courtesy of Sting. If only he were no more.

She walked back to her window puffing at her cigarette holding on to that thought. She waited by the window till she saw him enter the HILUX and drive away. If only he were no more. Where else would she score the drugs she needed at a whole forty percent discount in price? All she did was be at his beck and call and do whatever he asked.

APTER SIX


The door into the studio unlocked and they stumbled in already all over each other, hands roving everywhere, impatient to take off the clothing barriers. Banks managed to kick the door shut with his heels before lifting her into his arms and backing her to the wall. She wasn’t very light and lithe, but he was strong enough. Lade lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist burrowing her tongue into his mouth. Never in all her experience had she been too impatient to get undressed and felt up by her mate. She was too turned on in that moment to be modest.

She murmured her approval when he went to work on the buttons of her shorts. All the pleasure of pre-intimacy would be a waste of time. She got her foot down and went to work on his belt. She felt her shorts and pants get pulled down together and groaned. Her hands weren’t steady enough. Moreover, his belt buckle was complicated. She grunted impatiently pulling at his trousers.

Banks laughed at her ineffectiveness. He pulled her shorts and undies down to her ankles. She kicked them away. He unbuckled his belt in a fluid, practiced motion and she helped him pull the trousers down. She could see the contour of his penis and grabbed at it through his bossers and squeezed appreciating its girth. She giggled when he groaned.

“Take it off, Peter! I’m so ready! Infact, I’ve been ready for a long time now.”

Banks didn’t need a second invitation. He pulled his bossers down to his ankles and kicked his trousers and bossers away like she did.

And time stood still for a moment as they gazed into each other’s eyes reading the depth of desire in them. Their hearts beat separately, yet at the same pace and rhythm set by the avalanche of feelings that had possessed them. No further words were necessary. Banks lifted her in his arms and carried her to the couch. He laid her down on its soft cushions and knelt at its edge.

Lade held out her hands to him. “Come to me,” she said without her lips moving. Her look said it all.

He was as obedient as a robot programmed to her needs. He parted her beautiful legs, long for a woman, chocolate skin soft and firm, and felt them lock around his slim masculine waist urging him closer. “You’re so beautiful,” He said solemnly.

She blushed. If there was ever a heart attack destined for her, it would occur now, she thought as he leaned in to kiss her. She felt his hard on rest at her entrance, hot and seeking the depths of her pleasures. She kissed him with all she had, and wished she had more. She was molten and simmering, aching to be filled by his strength.

She whimpered as she felt him nudge at her folds and opened her legs wider. He broke the kiss and looked at her eyes, all dark and soft for him as he entered her. He groaned at the heat of her core. She bit her lips as he pulled back and shuddered when he pushed back in. She rocked her hips as she felt him retreat and pulled at his lean, naked buttocks as he re-entered. She squealed and pulled his neck to bury her soft moans into his loving mouth. They found a slow rhythm they enjoyed until they could torment themselves no longer.

He quickened his pace when he felt her nails dig into the skin of his waist. There would be neither reservations nor control now as he began to drive into her again and again and again. Their gazes were still locked and they could both see the extent of each other’s passion as if it mirrored back at them. She began a low hum. A new song. He grunted to stop from joining her, but he knew he wasn't so far off now from jumping off the cliff on this runway they were speeding along. His thighs were beginning to ache and it must have showed in his eyes.

“Peter! Don’t you dare…stop now! Don’t!” Lade panted. “I’m…cum…” the words stopped flowing and she started gasping and shaking. Her eyes rolled up and the lids screwed shut. She clenched up inside and spasmed. Banks couldn’t have stopped even if his mother just walked into the room. His groans were so loud he bent to take her mouth in his and let her kiss him senseless in her oblivion. She could have chewed his lips off for all they cared. The torrents wouldn’t stop pumping out and his hips wouldn’t stop humping her. He was sure he would bruise her from the sheer brutishness of his orgasm – three years’ worth of celibacy – that when he was spent and able to catch his breath, he whispered apologies into her ear. He caressed her face and told her all the wonderful things his centrifuged brain had whipped up.

Lade was amused and touched at his apologies and tender words. She’d thought he wouldn’t stop cumming inside her. It was enough to impregnate her twice, maybe thrice. The thought got her sober though and hyperventilated in silence until he leaned off her. She wiped the sweat from his brows and smiled at him in appreciation.

“I wish there was somewhere I could clean up,” she said.

Banks frowned at her. “Of course! There is a fully functional bathroom here!” He got off her and lifted her again despite protests that she could walk. He carried her across the studio to the adjourning bathroom door. “I think I might join you myself,” he added.

Lade laughed. Her thighs were so sticky she couldn’t wait to soak in a tub. She tickled him which made him laugh until his grip under her slackened. She slipped down to her feet to wobble, and held onto him for support.

They made love again in the egg shaped tub, with the warm water swirling around their bodies. Delirium became their new favorite state of mind as they sought to be one with the universe one more time. Lade felt she would burst with pleasure. He wasn’t the most skilled lover, but the fact that their sentiments were in sync and they seemed to be attuned to each other’s carnal needs left no room for comparison. She cried when she came and held on tight to him as she rode him till he started jerking underneath him.

She woke up to find herself lying on her side on the couch wearing just panties and her top. There was a take-out bag on the coffee table. She made to sit up.

“Stop! Don’t move! One more minute please!”

She turned in the direction of Banks’ voice. He was sitting on a cushion to the couch’s left and had a pencil and drawing pad. He was staring at her and the pad intermittently, making marks on the pad.

“What are you doing?” Her curiosity made her ask.

“I’ll show you when I finish… just stay still.”

She waited a bit watching as the pencil moved on his sketch pad and realized he was sketching her. She got self-conscious.

“Peter! You’re drawing me? Can’t you see I’m half naked?” She sat up with feigned indignation. Her nipples rubbed on her shirt and she remembered she didn’t put her bra back on.

“I was done anyway, just putting in finishing touches,” Banks said. He got off his cushion and went to sit next to her to show her his sketch of her lying on the couch. “I’m no Boticcelli, but this is… passable…”

Lade laughed. “That’s my face alright… the jaw yes… the nose is alright… the hair must’ve been easy. You drew me wearing panties, and I thought you were a gentleman!” She looked up from the sketch with a grin to catch him looking down at her cleavage. She punched him on the chest playfully.

“Ouch!” He grinned lasciviously.

“Horn dog! My eyes are up here!” She pointed two fingers at her eyes.

She saw his eyes darken with desire and began to back away in protest when he grabbed at her. She half turned away but his hands were on her breasts squeezing and kneading them. She took a deep breath and relaxed. It felt so good the way he touched her. He pulled her to him and kissed her. She kissed him back. But then, she heard his stomach growl and stopped. His lips widened into a smile on hers. She pulled back, amusement on her face too. They began laughing.

“We should eat,” she said. “I told you I was hungry.”

“Me too I guess…more for real food than for you…”

“Insatiable pig!” She pretended to be disgusted.

“The sentiment is mutual,” he replied and they both laughed, unashamed at their feelings for each other.

They ate coconut rice and salad and drank water from Banks’ refrigerator. Afterwards, with canned beers in their hands, Lade took closer look at the paintings hung on the wall while Banks explained the concepts behind each. She pretended to understand all of it.

They made love once again after which he fell asleep on her laps. Time was running, but she didn’t want the day to end. She wanted to spend more time with him. She’d never felt more secure and alive. The way he looked at her made her feel so desirable, so unlike other men she’d been with whom only wanted to satisfy their lust and get their money’s worth. There was no demanding from him which made it easier to unbridle her passions. He valued her, regardless of everything he knew or suspected.

There was much more he didn’t know though, and thoughts of those made her want to sneak away before he woke. She felt a twinge of regret at the irony that the source of her joy could ultimately bring her nothing but pain. But she was reluctant. There was nothing wrong with being happy for a day. It wasn’t too much to ask from fate which had brought them back together. Reality could wait till tomorrow, not today; she couldn’t bear to leave the man she loved. Not just yet.

Banks woke up to see her staring out through the window her arms folded. She was so lost in her thoughts she didn’t notice him join her. The sun was going down on industrial Lagos. The studio was on the sixth floor and gave a wide view of the hustle and bustle in the middle class part of the city. NEPA had brought the lights during his slumber and the air conditioner was humming lightly.

Banks embraced her from behind and pulled her in to nuzzle her neck. She sighed and leaned her head back on the crook of his shoulders. He was only a couple inches taller.

“I’m keeping you from your friend’s welcome home party,” she said with a twinge of regret.

“I can always apologize tomorrow. I prefer being where you are.”

She hesitated. “Do you think they’ll be nice - if I came?” She felt him stiffen and turned to look at him. “Maybe we shouldn’t. I’ve already stayed too long.” She could see he wanted her to but was afraid. If she went out with him among his friends, she’ll have to do it more often to keep up appearances for him. It was like Pandora’s Box.

“A couple hours more shouldn’t hurt. I want to be involved with you Lade and I don’t hide things like that from my friends. They don’t know you. All you have to do is be your beautiful, friendly self. We pop in, dance a bit, and pop out.”

Lade looked at him a long time. “I want to be involved with you too. I already am… I love you so much… but…”

“No buts…”

“Yes, but… I know what getting involved with you could result in. Do you - know getting involved with me could result in?”

Banks shrugged. “I’ve got an idea. Still I know we have a chance if only we never stop believing we can make it work.”

She stared him in the eye but his sincerity never wavered. He really wanted to this for real. The question then was, did she? She sighed.

“Kiss me again,” she said, “I don’t want to ever forget the way you kiss me.”

Banks did. His cell phone ringing stopped them before they went past kisses. They were like teenagers in heat. He went to answer his call.

His cell phone ringing reminded her that her cell phone was still held in evidence. She’d been asked to return on Monday to pick it up since the officer in charge of items put in the evidence room was out on an errand.

remiseyi:
johnspurgeon... Honestly since midnight that I stumbled on this thread I've being glued to my device.... You've got a great story going on here (nice plot, almost precise description)... People might decide to be the ghost reader but don't be discouraged...

Okay, here goes...

Donkross1
Mattkent
DandyPearl
Heemah
Sageez
Afz9095
DVMtuppence
Maggielovely
Labaski
Jaytoy
Calmdove
Damyem

I guess I'm gon do d tags myself. I'm losing interest in continuing this thread. No feedback, no more posts.

***


Ten million naira richer, Sting, Spencer and the rest of the boys drove back to town in higher spirits than they’d expected. Apart from the fact that future consignments would have to be moved all the way to Ore before their existence became Mr. Monty’s headache (much more riskier yes, but Sting was willing to make the concession since the account was his largest yet), the meeting was deemed a successful one. Sting had the cash beneath a false bottom at his HILUX’s trunk to prove it. Five million in un-taxable profits wasn’t bad for a day’s work.

Spencer was behind the wheels as usual. He shook his head, eyes glued to the heavy highway traffic. “The phones still dey switched off.”

Sting remembered. The other phones had been switched off to prevent distractions.

“I wonder when we will get home with this stupid traffic. Where is the key?”

Spencer took out a single key from the right hip pocket of his jacket. Sting took it from him and turned to carry a heavy, wooden box at the back seat of the HILUX. He placed it on his lap and unlocked its padlock. He opened the lid and sifted through the dozen phones there for his. It was a rule – everyone turned in their phones when they were on a job with Sting. If they needed one for the job, Sting provided a clean one. This way, their personal lives didn’t interfere with work.

He closed the lid without re-locking it and returned the box to the back seat. He turned his cell phone on. The phone suddenly began vibrating beeping again and again as the text messages tumbled in one after the other interrupting him. There were four beeps in all. He frowned at the phone. He scrolled through the phone to check the messages. The first was from Cindy. The second was from Gina. The third was Cindy again. And the earliest was from Tobechi. He frowned.

“What is wrong?” Spencer had caught the puzzled frown that marred Sting’s ugly face further when he looked at the text messages.

Sting knew he hadn’t been Cindy’s favorite person in a very long while. She usually went through Spencer and he’d preferred it that way. Gina never texted but since he’d been unreachable, she must have felt what she had to say was urgent. But Tobe… that was his contact at drug law. They hadn’t spoken in six months when he… he’d warned him of the case drug law was building against him. The new buyers that month had actually been undercover agents. He stared at the phone with dawning suspicion.

He read Tobechi’s message first:
HAWKS PROWLING EARLY. KEEP YOUR CHICKS SAFE.
Sting’s eyes widened. He hurried through the other messages lips thinning in rage after each one. Spencer kept his eyes on the road, waiting.

“Drug law raided the house this morning. Only Lade was arrested.”

Spencer got alert. He looked at his wrist watch. It was past three pm, and on a Friday. They were still a long way out. If they didn’t get her out by tonight, she’ll be in custody till Monday and there was no telling what would happen. There was no bailing during the weekend. He could tell Sting was worried. Who knew what she might reveal if they ‘questioned’ her right?

“I hope I have Barrister Tunji’s number stored.” Sting scrolled his phone book. “We can send him to bail her out. We’ll pay him when they get back! Shit! I can’t find him! Okay…okay here he is…LIAR TUNJI”

Spencer chuckled while Sting dialed.

***


“Wait, where are you taking me?”

Banks threw her a quick glance and smiled as he returned his eyes to the road. “I’m kidnapping you for the rest of the day. How does that sound?”

“Really? Help! Help! I’m being kidnapped! I’m being…!” She shouted jokingly before Banks’ right palm covered her mouth.

“Stop that! Another word from you and I’ll have to tie you up! Ouch!” He removed his hand from her mouth in a hurry. She’d bitten him. “That hurts!”

She giggled. “You'll make an unsuccessful kidnapper! I’m starving. I’d just finished making pasta when these buggers raided the house. I didn’t get a chance to eat.”

Banks ignored her language. “There is a fast food opposite my studio building. We’ll buy you take outs. Meanwhile, one of my friends’ girl friend is coming home from a music video shoot overseas this afternoon. Her dad is a partner at this management company, and she’s one of their dance choreographers. There’ll be a homecoming party this evening at her house. I’ll like you there with me before you go back home.”

Lade’s jaws dropped in surprise.

“Come on! It’ll be our second date. It will be loads of fun, I promise!”

“But your friends,” she said, “they will be there.” She pointed out.

“Sure! I don’t see what the problem is with that. We could find suitable clothes for you at any boutique. I’ve got my debit card.”

Lade shook her head hesitantly. “I…I…I can’t,” she said, but hurried on at the disappointed look on his face. “Not that I don’t want to, but meeting your friends…I just got out of custody. You can’t seriously act like you’re not at least worried about whatever your lawyer told you before she drove away.”

Banks was quiet for a while. “You’re worried someone will come looking for you and find you bailed.”

Lade nodded. There was no telling what Sting would do if he found out she’d gotten help from a lawyer he didn’t know. She could go home and tell everyone that her charges had been dropped because they had nothing concrete to hold her with.

Banks pulled up at the curb of the road and half turned at her. Lade shrank away a bit at the intensity of the moment. He took her hand instead forcing himself to be tender in spite of himself. “I won’t lie. I am discouraged. My previous memory of us was of a wonderful evening which ended beautifully. I saw a lot of future in that kiss. Today, I got to see the drug law enforcement agency building for the first time. I had business there – making them drop drug charges against the first girl I ever really cared about… but, I love you!”

Lade stared at him with eyes wide with wonder and slowly filling with tears.

“I can’t lie to myself… I…I can’t…I can’t help but want to help you get out of all this mess you’re in. Unless you’re pretty comfortable right here…”

“No, I’m not! I want out too! I… I love you too!” She winced at the L-word.

A smile tugged the corner of Banks’ lips. “Good!”

“But that’s… that’s like suicide Peter. You’ve got no idea…” She faltered there. Her misty eyes fell downcast and she steeped her trembling fingers.

Banks put an arm around her back and pulled her closer to him. He placed a soft kiss at the left corner of her lip. Lade sighed and turned a bit to capture his lips in hers. His breath was a bit minty and he smelled of aftershave and light cologne. Manly. It made her shiver with hot excitement. His kiss was slow and persuasive. And full of love and passion. It so overwhelmed her that tears rolled down her cheeks. He growled when she bit his lower lip and he invaded her with his warm tongue. Deeper. Fiercer. She moaned. She wanted to push closer into the safety of his embrace but was confined by space and angles in the car. She wanted him; regardless of myriad reasons not to get intimate with him.

She lifted a palm in between them and nudged him away. She stared at the slight swell of his lips where she’d bitten him. His eyes were glazed with passion.

“Take me…to your studio. I want you to…to make this special for me…in case…in case this is the only chance we get.”

Banks nodded and sighed with some regret. He couldn’t remember any other set of female lips he’d enjoyed as hers. Soft and full and better than he’d ever imagined. Somehow he knew he would enjoy the rest of her even better. He had dreamed it since like forever. The only question at the back of his mind was; will it be the only chance they get? Not if he could help it. You don’t just declare your love to a woman and let her walk away.

***


Sting glanced at his watch for the umpteenth time and resumed counting the sealed carton boxes stacked over each other at the back of their MACK twelve-tire truck, again…for lack of something better to pass the time with. There were a dozen armed men with him including Spencer, so there was no reason for the sweat to be seeping through his pores like he’d been hiking from one end of Oshodi Bridge to the other.

Except that the warehouse was built of wood and zinc and the sun was especially hot. But this wasn’t just about the heat of day. It was quiet outside. His lookout hadn’t called in. He turned to his men. Spencer stood at the wide open entrance. The rest were around, mostly by a white HONDA TITAN parked at a corner. They all had SMGs or AK-49s and were ready. His HILUX was parked at another end. He felt his favorite Colt .45 hung on his left waist side. Spencer had an UZZI while the lookout had a sniper gun and a clear shot. This was the next step in his takeover-from-Johnny plan.

The warehouse was at a dead end accessed only by a narrow dirt road that led a couple miles away from the highway far from the outskirts of the city. There were no other human activities about. Presently, Benny from his perch on the ledge of the warehouse saw dust flying up in the distance along the road that led out to the highway. He lifted the binoculars hanging over his neck to his eyes and magnified it to see what was amiss. A convoy of three vehicles was approaching – two land cruisers and one BMW in between.

“Three vehicles approaching!” he shouted down to his colleagues.

At last, here we go, Sting thought. He fished for a handkerchief from his pockets to wipe his face and neck as Spencer marched back to him for his orders. The rest crowded in on him. As always, he’d thought everything through and so was decisive in his choices.

“Three vehicles. We’ll have to assume he’s got more men than we. There might be a price war. I don’t know if he has gone to Mandy before us.”

Spencer muttered a curse. “I doubt Mandy can meet his demand at a regular basis.”

Sting frowned at him. “Most of Johnny’s boys are aligning with him, or haven’t you heard? This is Johnny’s biggest account. We get it, or no one else does. Do we all understand?”

They all nodded.

“First, I want three of you out of sight, but somewhere you can watch. Spencer you’re with me… the rest of you just be ready to draw if things aren’t going my way.”

Again they all nodded. As one unit, three went out of sight to hide behind the rest of the junk in the place. Sting, Spencer waited while the rest took up positions.
The three cars drove into the warehouse, all tinted windows wound up, Sting and his men couldn’t see their occupants. They diverged to pull up abreast each other. The doors of one of the land cruisers opened and five armed policemen spilled out. Sting saw his men panic out of the corner of his eye and raised a hand to steady them. One of the policemen went to open the back seat of the BMW just as the second Land Cruiser opened for five smartly dressed men in sunshades to alight.

Sting watched Mr Monty alight from the back seat of the BMW dressed in a two piece suit and a hat. A busty young lady with brown, Latin-American features who wore the shortest and tightest green, glittery dress he’d ever seen followed. He’d heard of his taste in exotic, foreign women. She was mouth-watering to the male eye. Judging from the fact that Monty was wiping wet fingers in a handkerchief and the flushed look on his lady’s face, he could guess what they’d been up to on the drive over.

That didn’t remove an iota of focus from the face with the smiling lips and cold-button eyes approaching. Monty was a short and stocky man whose head was getting bald at the middle and gray at the sides. He owned a dozen night clubs in three cities which he kept well supplied with meth and ecstasy pills. Cocaine and heroin, he supplied street dealers from Ore to Asaba, even up to the confluence city. He purchased in bulk four times a year, exactly the same amount each time. And if this deal didn't go sideways, then he would talk to Mr. Lobo about increasing stock.

Mr. Monty eyed the truck and grinned cynically. “I hope this is not a Trojan Sting,” he said, his eyes unwavering. “It sure smells like one. At least that’s my impression.” He sniffed the hand he’d been wiping before offering Sting a handshake while looking around the warehouse at the position of his men and their trucks.

“First impressions matters most, Mr. Monty.” Sting took the handshake in a firm grip.

Mr Monty held on to him. “Ah! Well, the smell is not always impressive the first time Sting.” He sniffed the handkerchief and his eyes softened

Sting looked at the glamor girl standing by the BMW and his lips pressed into a smile he didn’t feel. “Well, true for certain exotic fruits Mr. Monty. I’m sure the scent doesn’t even come close to the real thing. But my great uncle was a hunter and he says the scent always shows the way. I’m glad your less than impressive scent was good enough to lead me to you.” He showed a few teeth with his smile this time.

Mr. Monty chuckled and released him from the handshake. “I see you’re an intelligent man, same as I. When I heard that my partnership with Uncle Johnny had reached a stalemate due to his demise and that his organization were at each other’s throat to succeed the dead man, I wondered, who is the next best thing out there? ‘cause time is money and time never waits, always ticking.

“Sting, some said. Mandy, others whispered. Well, I have this thing against black men without melanin. A black man with a yellow skin…makes me think of wolves in sheep clothing. Misleading scents too, come to think of it. So you see, you’re a fortunate man Sting, based on the amount of local business you’re going to help me sustain."

"Where there is fortune, there was a crime, they say," Sting said. “And crime pays…better…faster. I’m sure you’ve got loads of lessons to teach me in that, seeing you’re a far more fortunate man.”

Mr. Monty laughed. “Okay, I won’t argue there. Do you have anything for me?”

“Depends. Do you have any cash on you?”

“Of course! What kind of business man do you think I am? Still, let’s make sure the scent isn’t misleading, Sting. Take me to the goods first.”

Sting turned to Spencer and nodded at him. Spencer signaled the rest of Sting’s men and they went to unwrap the foremost carton boxes.

“After you,” Sting said to Mr. Monty, pointing the way.

***


Banks called his lawyer as soon as Lade dropped her distress call and was impatient on the drive to the Lagos offices of Bankole Incorporated. He declined his mother’s invitation to come up to her office for a while. He too had an office in the building but had never been there. Not yet. Each time his mother asked for his reason that was his answer – not yet.

He had driven from Lekki to Apapa where the drug law enforcement agency had one of their holding cells. The entire conversation he’d earlier had with his mother was out the other ear and out of the window as he sped to the rescue.

The compound was manned by heavily armed guards. Each wore a green NDLEA jacket over white vests. He was given a pass by an armed guard at the security post was directed to a vacant spot at the visitors parking lot. There was the main building, a two story building about a two minute walk away from his spot at the lot. Two other buildings lay behind it, both with fences as tall as the two storey building itself. It would be impossible to look into either from the main building. They must be holding areas for their criminal suspects, Banks thought.

His lawyer Barrister Juliet Akande had called an hour ago to say that she was in. He was still chauffeuring his mom then. His lawyer had advised him to wait outside. There was no need risking getting recognized by a journalist who was hanging around for news. Thus, after alerting his lawyer of his arrival, he remained behind his wheels and waited.

Two hours went by. Two hours during which he shut his mind to flashes of his conversation with his mother. Lade was in drug law custody and needed someone to bail her out. That was proof enough. She used drugs. He should have ended the call and washed his hands off her. These drug law officers weren’t like the common police who arrested without cause or reliable information. These ones rarely arrested innocent people. Their information network was more solid.

He thought of Vanessa too. “look me in the eye and tell me she doesn’t use drugs…” No, Lade his friend, was in trouble and had called for help. Nothing scandalous in being a Good Samaritan - Was there? No! Unless there was something more to the friendship - Was there? Uhmm… well he cared enough to answer her distress call. Somehow, he realized that there would be more rushing to her rescue from now on.

At last he saw them exit the front exit of the main building in the wide compound. Both ladies walked side by side. Barrister Juliet was in her early thirties looking smart in a gray suit and matching trousers. Lade had navy blue shorts and a tank top on. Banks alighted from the Mercedes. He whistled and waved at them. The guards within earshot turned sharply and frowned at him in disapproval. Banks waved at them and smiled apologetically.

Barrister Juliet had seen the exchange and nudged Lade who was still scanning the wrong side of the compound for Banks.

“There he is,” she said.

Lade followed Juliet’s gaze and saw Banks standing beside his car and smiled. Her grin was infectious as Banks smiled as well. Lade started walking faster to go meet him. Barrister Juliet cocked her eye brows, and wondering at what the sudden urgency was about, she maintained her pace. Who was this beautiful girl to her client? Seven years post-bar, three years as Peter Bankole’s personal lawyer, she had never been to the drug law enforcement agency for any reason – personal or work-related. The people she represented had no cause to be caught up on this side of the law. Peter Bankole least of all.

Lade hugged Banks when she arrived at where he stood. “Thanks for coming at once! I was so scared!”

Banks hugged her back and then released her. He picked a stray lock which hung over her left eye and tucked it behind her left ear. “Are you okay? Did anyone touch you? Hurt you?” He looked her over.

“No one did. Yet. I couldn’t afford my commisere so… there were… intentions on the faces of my cell mates… verbal threats too.” She covered her face with her hands. “Oh! I’m so embarrassed! But I’m fine.”

Banks chuckled. “It’s okay. If not me, then who? Hmm?” He asked.

Barrister Juliet arrived at this point. Banks released Lade and shook his lawyer’s hand. “Thanks for being prompt. I know you’re a busy girl.”

“That’s what you pay me for, remember? So don’t even mention. How’s Jennifer?”

Banks almost winced. “She’s okay.”

“You didn’t call to check back on that partnership agreement you asked me to draft. I wonder what happened.”

“We’ve been busy with our school project. Moreover, I’m not sure we’d be partnering anymore. I’d have to call you back on that.”

“Why? Sounds like a good business deal going to waste.”

“Cold feet. She’s joining her mother’s company for experience. That’s what she told me.”

“Aww!” She seemed disappointed and glanced at Lade standing beside Banks. There must be more to Bank’s explanations, she could tell.

Lade could tell too. Banks saw the look and introduced her to the lawyer as an old friend.

“Thanks for helping, Barrister.” Lade said,

“You’re welcome.” She turned to Banks. “The good news is that they have nothing to charge her with, so your friend is free to go.

Banks sighed with relief and felt Lade take his hand and hold on to it. He turned to see her smiling. “The bad news?” He asked.

Barrister Juliet smiled. “You’ve got quite a huge bill to pay for an ordinary Friday afternoon.”

Banks chuckled. He opened his car and reached for the dash board to take out a checkbook. He turned to Lade. “Wait in the car while I walk Juliet to her car,” he said. She nodded.

“I’m parked that way.” Barrister Juliet pointed in the direction where her ox-blood Toyota Matrix stood among another row of cars. She smiled at Lade. “It was nice meeting you Lade. I hope to see you again in circumstances more pleasant than this.”

“Of course,” Lade replied. “Again thanks for coming. I don’t know what I’d have done if you didn’t.”

“You’re welcome.”

Banks winked at Lade and smiled. “Be right back.” Banks and Juliet walked off to her MATRIX.

“Interesting,” Juliet said almost immediately they were out of Lade’s ear shot.

“What is interesting?”

“I finally meet your girlfriend in what I should call an embarrassingly conspicuous manner.”

“I’m not embarrassed. They had nothing to charge her with; you said so yourself. Moreover, I never said she is my girlfriend.”

“She’s not? All that fawning over each other came from being just friends?”

“Old friends.”

“Right. You’ve got to be kidding.” They arrived at her car.

Banks patted his pockets for a pen. “Lend me your pen Jules.”

She fished into her hand bag for one which she handed to her clients. She took one look at Lade who still stood by the car watching them. “I don’t know Peter, this feels like an itch at the back of my neck…”

“…that might turn into a boil if you scratch it!” Banks finished for her smiling. “Is this about Lade?”

“It’s none of my business, still…” She sighed. “I’ve seen her type a lot of times. Young women like her, very beautiful, looking like they won’t hurt a fly…”

Banks frowned. “Looking as opposed to being! In some circles, seeming is being you know?”

“My point exactly! Most times, they are actually guilty of what they are suspected of.”

“You think she’s guilty of something?”

Barrister Juliet almost backed off. She was surprised at what she saw sneak into his eyes. This Lade girl had a hold on this guy she did not like.

“I can see how close she is to you. Still you’re my client and friend. I’ll tell you what I think and leave you to your better judgment. I’m just saying that she seems smart. Very smart…smart enough to hide evidence…” she paused.

Banks shook his head even more curious now. Why was everyone warning him about her? He turned to look at her still standing by his car and keeping an eye on them. So beautiful in her cheap clothes. Very innocent. He turned back to his lawyer. “What are you not telling me, Jules? You said they had no evidence to charge her with.”

Barrister Juliet shrugged. “They found bits of aluminum foil floating in her toilet bowl when they raided her apartment this morning. I hear her landlord is suspected of drug trafficking, running prostitution rings among other crimes.”

“Sting,” Banks murmured to himself.

“What did you say?” “Nothing.”

Barrister Juliet noticed he didn’t seem surprised at the news and her suspicions deepened. Who was this girl really and how deep was her client involved with her? “Well…anyway, you can’t but beg the question. What were bits of foil doing in her toilet? Such stuff are usually disposed of in the garbage bag. Unless she was flushing it down for a reason. And foil is used by retail dealers to wrap heroin.”

Banks scratched the back of his neck. “What did she say when the police asked?”

“She’s smart or had been groomed with answers to typical questions. She said she’d been drunk the previous night and had taken one of these fast food moi-moi they wrap in foil for dinner. She must have eaten some of the foil too because they were there when she used the john this morning.”

Banks almost chuckled. “It’s silly yeah… but it happens. Ever stop to consider… that that was what happened?”

Her brows knitted in disappointment. What was she thinking, telling a love-stricken young man that the object of his obsession was a petty liar? “What’s the need anyway? No evidence, no case, right? Now can we talk about my bill so I can get back to the office?”

Banks placed his checkbook on her boot and opened it. “Five thousand for your transport… another ten for your services should do it, right?” He wrote as he spoke then tore out a leaf which he handed to her.

“I was thinking more like five grand,” she started saying, then read the check. She looked up at him with a puzzled frown shaking her head in confusion. “A hundred and fifty grand? What is this Peter? Some sort of mistake?”

“I want you to do something else for me. Consider this your advance.”

Barrister Juliet got curious fast. “I’m listening,” she said.

“I like that girl…a lot. But, I’m not a blind fool. She used to study English at UNILAG before… Class of two thousand and seven… I want you to hire someone to dig up everything there is about her - school records, police records, who she works for, everything about them. If the money isn’t enough, you let me know. I just want to know if she’s dirty.”

The Barrister was surprised “And if she is?”

“Well, you’ll pick your phone when I call for your help like you did today. Can’t ask for more.”

Barrister Juliet nodded and put the check into her bag. She took out her car keys and unlocked the car. She got in. “I’ll call you as soon as I make any progress.”

“Thanks Jules,’ Banks said, “and keep this between us……away from your father or my mother…especially my mother.”

“I understand. Be careful Peter.” She started the car, reversed out of her space and drove out of the compound. Banks started back for his car and Lade, convinced he was doing the right thing by his family.

***


Lade’s mind told her she was playing with fire when she placed that call to Peter Bankole. She sat at a corner of the police cell with six other female inmates, each looking wilder than the rest, fidgeting and waiting. This was her first time in police custody, and despite the fact that she knew they had no concrete evidence to hold her, they would, just because they could. She’d heard terrifying stories about her present environment. Spending any more minute here held no more allure than news of her arrest reaching Peter Bankole’s ears. But she’d had no other choice.

Sting or Spencer were the people to call when any of the girls found themselves in this predicament. An in-house lawyer would be alerted to post bail within the hour. Thus, when her arresting officers allowed her one call, she’d followed procedure, only neither Sting nor Spencer were available. She remembered they were out of town for a drug meet and would be back late, which meant she would spend the night in a cell. One look at her fellow inmates who were circling with grudging looks on their face and her guts left her. She was fresh meat in a den of tigresses. She didn’t want to imagine what could happen in the cover of night.

Fear led her to think of her other options. Option-Banks. He’d come to her rescue in a giffy if he caught wind that she was in such trouble. He cared about her that much if she read him right two nights ago. And so, she’d called him, backing thoughts of shame and embarrassment away.

If Sting found out… He would. There was no way he wouldn’t. The Q-question would be; who posted your bail? She closed her mind to the torrent of possible punishments that would be meted. Her initial fear was stronger than the latter one. She wanted away from her new neighbors on whose foreheads RAPE and ASSAULT were boldly written. She’d rather be weighing her options back under the sun and fresh air.

She heard feet approaching and looked up at the tall, bulky figure of a female guard in jailer clothes. She was built like an amazon and was middle-aged and had a punk haircut.

“Oladele Bukola Adewummi!” She read from a sheet in her hand.

Hope sprang eternal, as they say. Lade was up on her feet. “I’m here!” She walked from the darker recesses of the cell towards the cell gate. She heard a low growl from one of the corners of her cell. Someone spat at her.

“If you come back here, you no carry house rent ehn…I go rumple your fine face so tey your boyfriend no go sabi you again.” Someone else snarled. Lade shivered as the gate was unlocked and she exited. Commisere. She didn’t believe she’d ever use those words.

***


Banks had bathed and gotten ready for the studio. That was over an hour ago. He paced the floor in his bedroom suite working on his courage to face his mother. It was fifteen minutes past midday and his mother hadn’t left for work either. Susan had checked on her when she didn’t come down for breakfast. She’d left for the office herself afterwards and so it was just the two of them in the Bankole mansion.

Banks made his way to her room and found the door open. He knocked and looked in. She was sitting on her bed staring at the TV screen hung on the wall. Since after he decorated the room, he could count the number of times he came into the room all those years. The suite was almost twice the size of his and colored white. He stood at the doorway for almost a minute before she noticed him. She smiled at him - an attempt at civility - a sad smile that reminded him of… of the look on her face the morning after his father’s burial. There hadn’t been much need for sadness lately.

Banks stepped into the room encouraged by that tiny gesture. A wall TV was showing figures of current tradings and worth of stocks of companies on the Stock Exchange. The numbers changed constantly like unstable NEPA voltage readings - Ups then downs; highs accompanied by lows.

“Which of the companies are you interested in?”

“Right now? None of them.” She got off the bed still in her night gown and went to sit on the couch at her small parlor. “Come son. Come sit with your mother.” She patted the seat next to her.

Banks traced the lines on his left palm with his right thumb. He looked up at his mother still beckoning, smiled and walked to her. She smiled back as he approached. She looked like she’d aged suddenly over the past four hours. The muscle beneath her eyes sagged and had dark rings. They held lots of worry hidden underneath. She took his hand when he sat beside her and resumed her blank stare, but this time at a painting on the wall. It was of his father. Banks had made it at her request from a photograph she gave to him. It was the painting of a handsome man in his prime – the way she best liked to remember him. She sighed and leaned her shoulder towards his.

“It would be eight years tomorrow, since we pulled the plug on him.” Banks frowned into perspective. He couldn’t read her demeanor as she wasn’t facing him. He put an arm around her.

“You’re not thinking yourself back into that depression we worked so hard to get you out from, are you? This is about the robbery?” He saw tear dropped down a cheek. She blinked the rest back and wiped the creepy misty corners off.

“Oh mom!” He squeezed her closer. He knew about her reservations, that her role at the family business left her unable to spend more time at home with her kids. But he and Vanessa were response-able and didn’t need a regular chaperone.

“He would be proud of you if he were here. I know I am,” Banks said.

Madam Bankole looked at him finally, a small smile appearing at one corner of her mouth. She still looked sad though.

“Sister Vee is too…which is why we are never happy when we know we’ve made you angry. We are aware you’ve sacrificed a lot to get us to where we are today.”

“Where is she?”

“She went back to work. She has called me twice since to ask if I’d talked to you.” He continued when his mother didn’t say anything in reply. He knew he had her attention and he had cued himself in somehow. He sighed like the discussion at hand weighed heavy in his lungs. “The problem is…the cause of your unhappiness is what makes her happy. Vanessa isn’t promiscuous. She really likes this Mike guy and has settled for him. But she’s afraid… and…and in need of your approval.”

Madam Bankole shook her head. The sad smile was back, tugging at a corner of her lips. “My mother used to say when I was little that whatever you do to your parents, your own children would do it to you…” She saw the bemused expression come on her son’s face and chuckled. “I know! I know! It’s what we parents say when we are so angry and riled up at losing an argument with our kid…and out of ammunuition.”

“I don’t understand. You married dad against your parents’ wishes?” He had never heard this version of their relationship before.

His mother exhaled, but not in relief. “Well, your father was a mere Keke driver and handy-boy when I was a fresher in the university. I made him join a polytechnic after which he chose to join the force.”

Banks was shocked. “Oops… condescending sure runs in the…” He thought aloud, then caught himself. “I didn’t mean…I didn’t mean that precisely.”

Madam Bankole chuckled. “You should see your face,” She said. “But unless these our genetic gurus have discovered a new gene for such, then I don’t know what you are talking about. Everyone is equal before God I was taught; so I never saw your father or anyone else as beneath me - even though my parents were quite wealthy.”

”Quite?” Banks chuckled. “Uncle Ben left me a gold bar! A gold bar!”

Madam Bankole shrugged.

“So they forbade you to marry daddy and you eloped with him?”

She nodded. "They cut me off and took away my trust fund leaving us to near poverty and squalor.”

“That is why we never went to visit them until their death…hmmm… I never thought you were a romantic.”

“Well, that was then. This is now. Now, I understand their worry then. All their careful planning…the life I was supposed to live…”

“Are you saying you regret marrying dad?”

“No! Far from it son! It was very rough…we had our struggles…but I like to think that we did alright. Now, you’re not a kid. I won’t lie to you, so don’t get me wrong when I say it wouldn’t have hurt either if he’d been in an occupation with less…hazards. He would’ve been here to help me control all this. I’ve been too busy spinning this family upwards. If he were here, I’m sure you kids won’t be spinning so out of control.”

The ensuing silence was deafening. Banks cleared his throat nervously as they stared ahead at the painting of Steven Bankole. Banks removed his arm from around her but she clasped onto it.”

“But I like to think that I married for love, to a man that made me happy. It was…very beautiful while it lasted. Not too many women at my age in this society can boast of that.”

Banks sat up to face his mother in earnest. “But can’t you see mom? The details might be different, but this is history repeating itself. I don’t know much about your own parents but I still entertain doubts that you’ve grown to be like them. I know you’d never disown any of us. We are all we have. But would you wait till she emancipates herself before you realize she loves that army man so much and has already chosen him?”

Madam Bankole frowned. “What makes you think she’d emancipate?”

“She’s doing double shifts at a hospital – a job we both know she doesn’t need. I doubt you still have power over her trust funds at her age. She won’t suffer if you kicked her out. She’s got your spirit mom, and has evidently thought ahead for herself.”

Madam Bankole released his hand and got to her feet to mentally deal with her son’s argument. She walked closer to the painting to touch the rough canvas on which the color paste had matted and splashed to create the pattern that was the image of her dead husband. She swallowed a wave of remorse and sighed, turning to her son. “You think he’s a good match for your sister?”

Banks got to his feet. "I’ve never seen your daughter happier with anyone else. Isn't that what matters at the end of the day?"

Madame Bankole nodded in acknowledgement. “I’ll have to meet him. A dinner perhaps?”

Banks smiled… then he grinned. “Really mom? Thanks! Sister Vee will be so excited.”

“What about you? She didn’t seem as excited at your choices, from the little the walls overheard.”

His excitement was gone like the wetness wrung out of the dripping clothes in a laundromat. He sat back down on the sofa feeling like a deflated balloon.

“I’m sorry but I have to ask son. Is she…is she a call girl like your sister suspects?” No mother ever had tougher questions spew from her lips, but like she said, she had to ask.

Banks sighed in frustration folding his arms and crossing his legs. “I don’t know,” he said, “not really…but whatever she does, she’s not proud of it.”

Madam Bankole struggled to keep a straight face. This was the bull-est-shit she’d ever heard. “Interesting!” Or not. Was she missing the sense his reply was supposed to have made? She went to sit opposite him. She never thought she’d ever have this sort of conversation with Peter – her boy in whom she was usually well pleased. Love may be blind sometimes, but there definitely had to be a limit to that awful, often misrepresented cliché. Why put yourself through the risk, especially in this twenty-first century society where personality, history, protecting one’s repertoire and keeping up appearances was mattered a lot? She was disappointed, but knowing Peter, losing her temper wasn’t going to achieve much. He preferred being talked to like the responsible adult he was – most times.

“What about drug abuse? Do you think…?

“No mom! Okay, I’ve seen her smoke a cigarette once but, no…no hard drugs.” His mind drifted to the rest room trips during their date at the resort.

Again, Madam Bankole sighed. She couldn’t tell if he was lying but she didn’t believe him. How long does he get to spend with her anyway?

The silence was moving from uncomfortable to nerve-wracking. Banks wasn’t sure his mother believed him. He had to say something. He had to make her understand. “You just told me that everyone is equal before God. I remember you once said we should see the good in people because no one was born bad.”

“Well, you gave me your vote of confidence on your sister’s choice. I don’t think she shares the same sentiment for yours,” she argued. She got to her feet with both her palms spread open. “Vanessa wasn’t just talking about a girl that hawks pure water and oranges on the street. This one’s a possible drug addict, maybe a prostitute too.”

“You’re talking possibilities and maybes mom. That’s mere speculation based on hearsay.” His protest sounded feeble even in his own ears.
She stamped her foot. “Mark my words! There is an element of truth in every speculation! There is a love-vendor in the picture for crying out loud son.” She pointed at him. “It is a dark, dirty world you have stepped into. It is criminal and insecure - everything I’ve been working hard, night and day to protect you and Vanessa from. It is the same world I lost my husband to. I don’t want to lose my son too.”

Banks squirmed on the couch. His mother was right. Did he really want to find out what happened to his friend when his nice and cozy life had already been threatened by her…boss? He put his elbows on the arm rests, leaned back and steepled his fingers thinking about her and everything he felt for her.

“You’re an adult Peter,” his mother continued, “and I can’t forbid you from seeing the girl. But at some point you’ve got to ask yourself if seeing her is exposing you and those that love you to any danger; especially, we your family. If it is, the next and more important question is, where should your loyalty lie?”

Now, that was a good chord and Madam Bankole knew she’d struck it square. On purpose too – she knew her son was all for family loyalty - judging by the way he narrowed his eyes at her. She nodded at him as if to say, ‘yes, it was that deep’. “I’ll take my bathe now. You’ll drive me to the office and maybe on the way we’ll talk about moving the calendar up on your studio going corporate. How would you like that?” She watched his eyes brighten at once. At last here was something he was more passionate about. His first love. Art - something he'd pestered her to do for a while now.

“I’ll…wait at the living room,” He said.

“I’ll be down in an hour,” She replied.

He was descending the stairs when his phone rang. He took out his blackberry and checked the caller ID. It was Lade. He remembered a poet once said ‘nine times out of ten, when you’re looking for a sign, they don’t appear.’ He couldn’t help but wonder at the remainder of the fraction.

***


Lade froze at what Cindy just told her over the phone. The next moment, she was cool and calculating. She turned off the cooker and ran into the bedroom. Her eyes swept over the bed room trying to remember where she put her stash. There was an unopened bag of drugs somewhere – under the toilet sink. She ran into the toilet and reached under the sink to take out a dirty purse. She unzipped it and shook out the contents into the dry sink bowl. A Ziploc bag containing her stash of cocaine, an unmarked cup of tiny yellow pills and a rolled up newspaper page containing her left over Indian hemp fell in. She carried the drugs over to open the clean toilet bowl. She tore the Ziploc bag and emptied the white powder into the bowl. The Indian hemp went in next followed by the pills. She turned the flush knob, an empty feeling washing over her as she watched the drugs disappear down the drain. What a perfect waste, she thought. She took the empty pill cup, the torn bag and the newspaper leaf with her and left the toilet, coming back for a quick peek. The dirty purse was on top of the sink and she quickly went to retrieve it.

A paid informant in the agency usually warned Sting ahead of any plans to raid any of Sting’s buildings and he in turn called them to clean out their closets. No warning had come this time.

In the kitchen, she found her lighter, walked out to her back porch to set the Ziploc bag and newspaper leaf on fire, holding them over the waste bin for the ashes to fall in. She could hear the frenzied commotion of neighbors running around to clean up while she waited to finish the incineration. She stared at the pill cup and wondered what to do with it. She went into the kitchen and began rinsing the cup while look around. Another thought stopped her. Cindy had brought something over. The smoking pipe was in the drawer of her dressing table. Lade almost panicked. She found three aluminum foil-wrapped rocks on her kitchen table and gasped, imagining what would have happened if her mind hadn’t unblocked the memory of their presence. She grabbed them and ran into her bedroom. Straight to the drawer where she kept her smack pipe. She opened it and found even more – a tourniquet and syringes and more hemp. Why Sting hadn’t warned them of this, she wondered. She swallowed large gulps of air to stifle the nauseating panic swelling within her. That was when she heard the inevitable banging on her bedroom door. The drugs would flush, she wasn’t so sure about the syringe and tourniquet. The knocked banged again. She could only hope, for there was no time.

***

Banks held a water-hose at his soapy Mercedes convertible rinsing the surds off when he heard the gates open and Vanessa’s KIA RIO drive in. she was behind the wheels. Banks frowned to himself. He couldn’t understand why his elder sister who was probably worth more than her bosses combined would bother to stress herself for a single day. It was a sore topic she never liked him broaching. He focused on getting all the soap on the two right tires.

Madam Bankole stepped onto the upper front balcony reading the morning’s financial reports from her SAMSUNG GALAXY TABLET. She held a cup of herbal tea by its saucer. She looked up to see the KIA RIO coming up the driveway and went to her favorite rocker chair glad that she would get to see her daughter before she left for the office.

Vanessa pulled up behind Peter's Mercedes and shut her engine off. She looked like it had been a long night. “Peter! I see Mummy is back.” She alighted from the car wearing a costly red jacket over her shirt and trouser.

“Yeah, haven’t seen her this morning though. Probably still in her room. Good morning.”

“Good morning,” she said with a yawn while she opened the door to the back seats to retrieve her overnight bag.

“Must’ve been a long night.” Banks observed.

“You can’t imagine. There was an eleven year old with a tumor in his brain. I scrubbed in with Dr. Nkrumah and have been on my feet for the past thirteen hours." She gave a long exaggerated yawn and shrugged. "Nothing a long dip in the bathe tub and a couple hours sleep won’t handle though.”

Banks turned off the hose. “An eleven year old with a tumor in his brain! Damn! How is he now?”

“Tumor was clipped off clean. I only pray, there will be no complications when he wakes up.”

“Amen to that! Apart from the God complex part…getting to save people’s lives except the…insignificant number that die under your care…I still wonder why you do it. I mean, you don’t have financial needs. You could pursue your hobbies and interests…have fun living your life; I don’t think you…”

Vanessa interrupted, smiling. “This argument again? Peter, I’ve told you. I do it for the same reason you go out every day to paint something. You don’t need it to earn money, but you love doing it. It’s your hobby and interest as you put it.”

“Hmm, so clipping tumors and saving lives during double shifts happen to be yours. Nice. Meanwhile how is Mike?” Banks wished the next instant that the question didn’t leave his mouth. He’d just invited Vanessa to recall the last time he spent time with them and ask after Lade. He wasn’t ready for that conversation. “I haven’t seen him in a while.” He continued.

Vanessa thought of brushing the question off with a simple ‘he’s fine’. “I was with him two days ago. He’s at Kaduna now…summoned to headquarters, he said. I’ll tell him you asked after him.”

Banks studied his sister. “What are you not telling me?

Vanessa sighed. “You ask too many questions, you know that.” She handed him her car key. “Help me put the car in the garage. Hopefully God will touch your mind to wash it as He did yesterday.”

Banks stared at the key in her outstretched hand. He wasn’t put off by her attitude. “Kaduna! That’s the Nigerian military headquarters, isn’t it? You’re suspecting he’d be deployed to a front…maybe ECOMOG stuff? This unending religious conflict in Senegal." He took the key from her, moved to another side of the car that was still soapy and turned on the hose to resume rinsing the car.

Oblivious to them Madam Bankole was all ears. She was no longer interested in the financial data showing on her tablet. Eavesdropping on her kids as she sipped her tea seemed far more interesting in that moment.

Vanessa was clearly startled at the thought. She hadn’t considered that. She had a more sinister fear – a remote reason why a strong woman like herself was coming down with morning fever, sudden dizziness and wobbly feet. She had vomited twice that morning already and had stopped at a pharmacy to purchase a pregnancy test kit which was somewhere in her bag. She clutched her bag tighter at the thought. Her mother hadn’t even heard not to mention approved of her engagement to Mike. And now the possibility that Mike could be flying out of the country to an actual war front… She shivered at the thoughts in her head.

And then there was something else. Something she’d been meaning to ask Banks about, when their schedules afforded them time to talk. Now was as good a time as any; something to change the topic with.

“Ehen! Peter! What did you later do about that girl you told us about? I mean Lade.”

He didn’t have any honest reply ready. Not even an answer to postpone or actually waive it. He looked away from the questioning glance on his sister’s face. There was nothing wrong with taking an old friend out on a date to play catch-up. Why then did he feel guilty like he’d committed a crime?

His silence only meant one thing. “You called her!” Vanessa blurted as if surprised.

Banks nodded. His throat felt dry and so he swallowed before replying. “Yes, I did. I asked her out on a date and she accepted.”

Vanessa’s jaw dropped with incredulity. “You did what! After what you said happened the last time?”

Banks turned the hose off and dropped it on the floor. “She’s my friend. I took her out a couple days ago Sister Vee, and believe me, she is still the Lade I know. Probably a different version, but deep inside I know.”

“What about the love-vendor that threatened your life the last time? I’m guessing he didn’t show up this time since you’re still standing in front of me in one piece.”

The tea cup almost slipped from Madam Bankole’s hand but she caught it with a nice reflex that almost sent her tablet flying off her lap. She set the tea cup on its saucer on the side stool beside her and listened. The conversation hadn’t stopped. They hadn’t heard her. Again, Banks was silent for lack of a suitable reply.

Vanessa decided to fill in the blanks. “Okay, maybe she slipped away from his attention for a few hours. How long will she keep slipping out to meet you before she’s found out and you’re in trouble again? In the meantime, what does she do when she is not with you? She is a hooker, regardless of whoever she was before. She has changed.”

“Only their priorities do. You’ve not even seen her, yet you’re so sure! People don’t change!” Banks replied.

“The scene you described at the bar is enough for a blind man to know what is going on!” Vanessa retorted. “I’m not even talking about the possibility that she’s a drug addict. Can you swear she doesn’t smoke cigarettes at least?”

Banks sighed. “You’re talking as if she’s an evil person. I know mom’s associates that smoke.”

Vanessa was very irritated now. “Mom’s associates! Seriously! This means you’ve actually seen the girl smoking. I’ve always known you to be very cautious for crying out loud! Always weighing the pros and cons. Now you’re nurturing a reckless relationship with a call girl…one with a love-vendor! I’m not proud of the choices you’re making Peter!”

Banks was at a loss. “You know, of all the people in the world, I thought you’ll understand better how I feel.” He bent to pick up his hose and go around the bonnet to resume his rinsing.

Vanessa walked after him. “There is nothing to understand. She’s a possible drug addict; and you’re condescending.”

Banks was surprised at Vanessa’s vehement judgment. “Well then, I guess condescending runs in the family!” Banks bit back.

Vanessa gasped. “What? I’m not condescending with Mike. He may be an ordinary private in the army, but I love him. I’m not looking to change him.”

“Right! Why then have you not yet told mom that you’re engaged to him?”

Whatever reply Vanessa had to that was interrupted by the sound of a chair screeching on the marbled floor. She and Banks traced the sound to the upper balcony where they saw Madam Bankole on her feet with her favorite china tea cup in her hand. They were both startled. Do walls have ears? From the look on their mother’s face, it definitely did.

***


Lade was cutting fresh pepper on the kitchen table next to the gas cooker on which a pot of macaroni was boiling. There were other plates on the table containing chopped onions, shredded fish, diced fresh tomatoes, and the last with liquid eggs. When she finished with the pepper, she grabbed a clean frying pan from its place and lit the second burner on the portable gas cooker. She placed the pan on it and went for a satchet of groundnut oil which she poured into the empty pan.

There was a knock on the back door. “The door is open Cindy!” She put some of the chopped onions into the heating oil. It made a charring sound when Cindy entered the Kitchen with a loaf of sliced bread.

“Okay babe, you’re seriously going to start making your neighbours jealous from all this new you.”

Lade smiled. “What do you mean the new me? This is Nicky every day.”

Cindy laughed. She placed the loaf of bread on the kitchen table and walked past Lade towards the bedroom door.

“Why should I care? They’ve been envious of every little thing I did. Where are you going?”

Cindy dropped her jaw. “Oh…My…God! Nicky! Your bedroom is tidy!” She stuck her head in and sniffed the air. “Lavender!” She turned to Lade with a pleased look. “Room freshener! Really Nicky! I hope you’re not planning to invite Lover boy to this place. Gina and friends will love that a lot.”

Lade added more ingredients to the frying pan. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Cindy took out the indian hemp wrapped in a lump with rolling papers which she’d brought along. “Well, since after your date with lover boy, you’ve been…well, I hear the whole corridor smelled like you were baking turkey yesterday.”

Lade turned at Cindy with widening eyes, “it was just half a kilo of chicken I made pepper soup with. It’s been a while I treated myself to something other than staple.”

“Rub it in their noses while you are at it jare…You are the talk of the building as usual Nicky. At least, your bedroom is tidy…improvement in the right direction, if I should comment. We can high after breakfast.”

“Cool, thanks Cindy. Sting hasn’t called me since the other night. I’m running out.”

Cindy searched her pockets as it suddenly hit her that something was missing. “Shit, my phone…” she paused to think. “I think I must’ve left it on my bed.” She placed the drugs on the Kitchen table. “I’ll be right back.” Cindy said as she made for the back door.

“You better. The macaroni is almost done and I don’t know how to wait.” She heard the back door slam shut and shook her head.

Cindy got into her first floor apartment and found her cell phone on the bed to her relief. She was hungry and also wanted to puff at something. Anything. Out of habit more than sheer instinct, she walked to look out the window of her bedroom. It overlooked the gate into the apartment compound and was in time to see three black Hilux trucks suddenly pull up outside the gate. They were marked N.D.L.E.A in bold green paint.

****


Vanessa had midnight shift and was scheduled to be at the hospital till midday the next day. Hence it was just Madam Bankole and Susie in the living room watching CNBC AFRICA. They had returned from their Abuja trip to the empty house a few hours earlier, freshened up, fixed themselves dinner and settled to a bottle of white wine and African business news.

Thus they were when Banks entered the house through the front door around eleven pm. He had noticed his mom’s AVIATOR parked in the garage and was aware of her presence but hadn’t expected her to be awake.

“Hey mom! Hey Susie!” The words were slurred. He’d gone drinking at a bar close to Jennifer’s house after leaving her.

“Peter, welcome. Good evening.” Susan greeted.

“You finally decided it was late enough to come home.” His mother said. “Are you drunk?”

Banks nodded. “A bit. Andy drove. He’s parking the car.”

“Is he drunk too?”

“Not as much as me.” Banks replied.

“What have I said about drinking, not to talk about drinking and driving? What if you got pulled over by police men, worse still got into an accident?”

“Mom! Seriously! I am tired and not in mood for a lecture. And we are fine. We know how to handle ourselves.” Banks snapped. He walked across to exit the living room.

Susan was quiet. She and the boy never really got along for whatever reasons. Not that they ever quarreled, but all they had for each other were polite greetings and passing remarks. However, she had never seen him snap at his mother. She focused her mind on the TV.

Madam Bankole sat up in her chair. “Peter!”

Banks stopped in his tracks and turned to glare at his mother. His patience was thin tonight. If he’d known she was awake, he’d have taken the back door in.

“This is what I was afraid you would say. Peter, you’re not a kid anymore. You have a lot going for you and with that comes a lot of obligations. Do you know how many people wish they walked in your shoes? I hate to think you’re getting even more reckless.”

Banks took a half step towards them, a curious look on his face. “Why do you say this mom? Has Vanessa been talking to you about me?”

Madam Bankole frowned with suspicion. “Why? Should she be worried about you that much?” She asked.

Banks shrugged, a bit relieved. “I’m fine mom. You worry yourself a lot about me. When was the last time you saw me like this? It’s not even midnight already, I remember I’ve been out much later than this, so don’t fuss much about nothing.”

“We’ll talk in the morning before I leave for work.”

“Fine! I am sorry for snapping at you.”

Madam Bankole sighed. “There is supper in the kitchen. Good night son.”

“Good night mom. Good night Susie.”

Susan pried her eyes away from the news and nodded at him. “Good night Peter.”

Banks exited the room heading straight for the stairs and his room. He had no appetite for food tonight. He had stripped to bossers when the all too familiar knock sounded on his door. He sighed. “It’s open mom.”

The door opened and his mother stood at the door way. “Peter.”

He had his face straight, ready for another lecture. “We started with just a bar of gold five years ago, remember?” His mother asked in her mildest tones.

“Yes mom, more than anything else.”

“Hopefully we’d be worth an honest billion by the close of this financial year. Thanks to your choice to entrusting your inheritance to me. Sometimes son, you should learn to respect decisions I make as head of this family in the absence of your father, God rest his soul. Do you understand me son?”

Banks nodded. “Yes mom.”

“Now, that is by the way. What I really came to say is this: I have so much experience in a lot of things. Any time you want to talk about whatever it is that is disturbing you, I’ll listen.”

“Thanks mom,” Banks replied. “I know that, but thanks still.”

Madam Bankole nodded and closed the bedroom door after her.

***


“Guess who just drove in!”

Jennifer looked up from the business card she was designing on her laptop at Chika as she entered her bedroom. One look at her face and Jennifer knew the reply. “Banks?” She sat up on her rocker chair.

“Security just phoned in the heads up. Andy is with him.”

“I don’t want to see him.”

Chika’s eyes widened in surprise. “Okay, but, are you sure? I mean, come on, you slapped the guy a couple days ago. I know he hurt you by standing you up...”

“…for the umpteenth time you mean.” Jennifer interrupted, and returned her attention to the laptop.

“Second time by my count…and this is the first time he’s coming here. He and I don’t get along, so that means he’s here for you.”

“To apologize and continue feeding me false hopes. I…I really don’t feel like seeing him, or anyone else today Chika. Tell them I’m busy, thanks.” Jennifer returned her attention to her laptop.

Chika’s eyes narrowed. “Too bad I’m not your personal assistant. You get to tell him that yourself.”

“Chika, dammit! Just…” Chika exited the room and banged the door after her before she finished her statement. Jennifer sighed and after moments of contemplation, put her laptop in sleep mode.

It was almost half an hour later when she presented herself to Banks at the living room. She had changed from the tank top and shorts she wore earlier to a simple Ankara dress and multi-colored leggings. He was alone holding a glass of iced tea and a DSTV remote control watching National Explorer channel on DSTV. There was an unfinished plate of peanuts next to the iced tea container. He heard her approaching, turned to see her and got to his feet.

“Hey Jenny,” he began with a smile.

“I heard you came with Andy?”

“Went off with Chika to her room or somewhere else...”

“Oh,” She said. She went to sit across the cushion he’d stood up from. “You look good. Healthy.”

Banks sat down. “Thanks,” he said. “You do too. Chika says you’re the one that made these peanuts. They taste awesome.”

Jennifer’s lips twitched slightly as she suppressed the smile at the compliment. A moment of uncomfortable silence passed. “So, first time at my mum’s place. What do you think?”

“It’s a beautiful house. Your mom is good at what she does.” He looked around as he spoke. “The colors, the fixtures…I can see she put up one of my paintings in the living room for your guests to see.” He said pointing the remote at a painting of a boy wading on the ocean shores, a sunset in the horizon.

“We call it Atlantic Banks. One of your first paintings; my mum’s favorite. You get a lot of appreciation from her friends. How’s your mom by the way?”

“She’s okay, if the last time we spoke is anything to judge by. She’s at Abuja.”

“Well, mine is either in Tahiti or Tijuana.”

Banks chuckled. “Ah! One of the numerous things we have in common. Our moms…always one place or the other.”

Jennifer didn’t reply to that. She leaned forward to take some peanuts from the plate on the coffee table. “We are both art lovers, talented in one thing or another and plot our lives to live off our talents. Just listing… other things we have in common.” She popped a peanut in her mouth.

“You’re right.” Banks replied. Something had changed about her, he suddenly realized. She wasn’t cold, just detached.

“Our friends and family idolize us for what we can do with our gifts. They support us with their resources and will go extra miles to see us succeed – another thing in common,” Jennifer went on.

“Yeah, my mom will. I believe Vanessa and Andy will too if it were up to them.” Banks said, still wondering at her point.

Jennifer sighed and leaned back on her chair. “That’s more than most successful couples I’ve seen have in common.” She said after a thought-filled pause.

Banks nodded, suddenly a lot less confused. Whatever this was about, it seemed her mind was already made up.

Jennifer hesitated. Her resolve was torn. She loved this guy sitting in front of her. She’d loved him for too long. Hope was like a drug, and Banks had been selling her hard for the low… Or she’d been imagining it, feeding herself the hook up all this while. It was high time she changed her delicacies. She swallowed.

Banks got up and went to join her on her cushion. He took her hands in his. “I’m sorry Jennifer, and not just for Chika’s bash and all the other promises I broke. I’m sorry I hurt you after everything you’ve done for me.”

Jennifer pulls her hand from his. “I don’t want your apology, Banks. I love you. You know that. Everyone knows that. It’s on me, and it’s not like we get to choose who we love, do we? It’s the most important thing to have in common, but we don’t. Too bad, you can only give love, you can’t take it.”

“But I value our friendship. That is why I am here. I don’t want to lose that.” His voice dripped of his sincerity.

“Don’t you? Really? ‘Cause you do act like it sometimes.”

Banks sighed. “Yes Jenny! I really don’t!”

Jennifer swallowed again. She won’t cry in front of him. She’d thought hard about it. She couldn’t keep waiting for him to come around.

“At least, it’s not because of someone else,” she said. “I’m just thinking…after the nightmare with Clara, maybe you’re not ready to commit. But I won’t wait any longer.” Her eyes got misty at this point and her voice broke down. She cleared her throat.

Banks put an arm around her and pulled her to him. This wasn’t the place or time to tell her she was wrong. There was someone else. His heart went out to hers and he wished he could give her what she wanted. Only he would be lying to himself and to her if he did. Maybe, If he hadn’t run into Lade that night, then who knew....

“Jenny.” His voice didn’t sound like his. He cleared his throat. “Jenny.” He called again.

Jennifer sniffed and dried the corner of both her eyes with the back of her palms. She pulled out of his hug and looked up at him. “I love you,” as far as loving two women was allowed.

Her eyes probed his for more meaning. “But…but what?” She asked.

“But I’m not in love with you.” He said.

The truth stung. She bit her lower lips and stared at the plate on the coffee table without seeing it. She’d spent two years of her life hoping in vain. Everything she’d loved about him seemed like ashes in her mouth in that moment.

“Jenny, don’t misunderstand what I just said.” He said.

She looked at him and saw hurt in his eyes. And guilt for what he was incapable of giving her. And fear that everything they had between them would change afterwards. What did they have? A lot in common. A lot less than what she really desired – his love. She got to her feet. He stood too and took her hand in his. She didn’t pull away.

“I don’t. I understand. I just wanted more than I could get. That won’t change how I feel for you Banks. It’s just, I’ll learn to lower my expectations of you.”

Banks was floored by her maturity in that moment. Did she mean what she said or was she merely saving face. Only time would tell. Hopefully, they’d cleared the air enough for their friendship to breathe again. If her pride didn’t kill it first, he still wanted a relationship with her.

CHAPTER FIVE

“I keep my head high…I got my wings to carry me…I don’t know freedom…I hope my dreams will rescue me…I keep my face strong…I ask the lord to follow me…I’ve been unfaithful…I don’t know why you color me…this is my canvas…I’m a paint how I want it to be…” Banks sang along with J. Cole on the home theatre with his eyes closed. He had one hand on the vacuum cleaner and the other swaying in the air. He was cleaning up in the studio. The sleeves of his A&F shirt were tied around his waist, wore a white singlet and camouflage shorts. He hummed where he didn’t know the lyrics and was so lost in the music the doorbell rang a few times before he heard it. He went to lower the volume of the music and go to answer the door.

“Who is it?” He asked.

“Andy!” Andy’s voice shouted from the other side. Banks unlocked the door and opened it. Andy, Bayo and Tunde got in, each carrying school bags.

“Dude, we could hear you singing from the elevator! What’s up!” Tunde asked.

“Nothing! Just in the mood for sing-alongs.”

“Good mood or Bad mood?” Bayo asked eyeing him.

“Good mood. I cooked breakfast at home this morning, cleaned the garage, and now I’m cleaning my studio.” Banks said.

“Sister Vee must’ve thought the world was coming to an end,” Andy said chuckling.

“That’s a lot of energy for one day,” Bayo said.

Tunde noticed the bottle of wine and half-filled glass on the table with his brushes and palette next to the canvass-less easel. He walked to it and took the bottle for closer inspection.

“What wine is that?” Andy asked.

Tunde reads. “Chianti… 1991, nice… Couldn’t have cost anything less than ten grand!” Tunde mentioned.

Bayo goes to join Tunde for a closer look at the bottle. “That’s better than just a good mood, a great mood even. What are we celebrating?” Bayo asked,

“First time I meet up with my cousin since last week Thursday, he’s drinking ten thousand naira worth of wine! Time to spill!” Andy quizzed.

A cell phone began ringing. “Aaah! Saved by the bell.” Banks fished out his ringing phone from his pocket and looked at the caller ID. He grinned. “Excuse me guys, this is important.” Banks answered the call heading for his makeshift office. “Hey dear!”

Bayo turned to the others. “Did you see that? The call…he smiled… a girl most likely… He said, 'Hey dear.'”

“Finally! Jennifer, who else?” Tunde asked sipping from Banks’ glass. He savors the taste. “Mmm…rich.” He looked up at his friends and found them staring at each other. “What?”

“It can’t be Jennifer. Idara told me Jennifer slapped him when they ran into each other on campus on Monday for standing her up at Chika’s party. That was barely two days ago.” Bayo said looking at Andy for confirmation. Andy pulled out a pack of canned Heinekeen from his bag and carried it to the refrigerator, deep in his own thoughts. He opened the refrigerator and found it cleaned out.

Tunde was surprised though. “Slapped Banks! Well, they obviously made up already.”

“So why walk away from us to answer her call?” Bayo argued. “He has never done that before.”

“You’re right. I doubt it is Jennifer too.” Andy said quietly. The other two were quiet at that. Andy tore the pack open and started loading the beer cans into the refrigerator. He took out three wine glasses when he was done and gave Bayo and Tunde one.

Tunde poured the wine. “Who else could it have been?”

Andy shrugged. “Something is off.”

“Something like what?” Bayo asked.

Tunde sighed. “Okay, now we are gossiping like a bunch of girls. I bet you’re angry he missed your girlfriend’s birthday bash and stood her cousin up. If I can recall, you spent the weekend with Chika at their house. Then you had that photo shoot on Monday, went clubbing with Bayo and I the entire night and came back Tuesday. Today’s Wednesday, don’t crucify him before you’ve had time to catch up.”

Andy began to reply but they heard Banks exit his makeshift office, shutting the door after him. He had a pleased look on his face which evaporated when he saw the discomfort on theirs. They’d been discussing him, he realized. “I hope you guys didn’t pour all of it.” He said, rejoin them.

Tunde handed Banks his glass. “There’s enough left,” he said and refilled his glass. “Who was it on the phone? Jenny?”

Banks chuckled in surprise. “I wonder why you’d think that. Speaking of which, Andy how’s she? She hasn’t been picking my calls.”

“I’m sure you’ve been blowing up her phone.” Andy replied with a sarcastic smile. “She’s okay…keeping to herself mostly these days. Same as you,” he said.

Banks raised an eyebrow. He looked at the others but none of them would meet his gaze. They'd definitely been talking about him. “How do you mean?”

Bayo cut in a milder tone than Andy’s. “You tell us. None of us have seen you since M-lounge on Thursday last week when you left with Jenny. You buy a ten thousand naira bottle of wine only for us to crash your ‘alone party’.”

“Come on guys… I haven’t been feeling too well. Maybe if any of you had bothered to call me to ask what was up, I wouldn’t be having this conversation with my friends.” He stressed the word ‘friends’.

“I never knew you were into expensive vintage stuff like this,” Tunde said. “Just like I’ve never seen you run off to answer a girl’s phone call. So, if it wasn’t Jennifer, you must have met someone new this past weekend.”

“You should have seen the way you grinned when you saw her call,” Bayo said with a camaraderie smile. “Spill the beans already man.”

Banks turned to Andy who yawned and shrugged. “Fine, I’m sorry. I too am dying of curiosity.”

Banks was reluctant and for good reason. If there was a short version to the topic, he would have gladly taken the option of telling them. The long and only version was complicated and he didn’t trust them to understand. If he painted her as a beautiful angel, they’ll want to meet her and wonder if she was a figment of his imagination if he dragged the introduction out too long. If he told them the entire truth, they’ll only criticize. Especially Andy who wouldn’t hesitate to tell Chika, who would tell Jennifer whose friendship he had every intention of repairing.

Yet, what else where friends for? Andy had been very loyal, Bayo and Tunde too. He could ask them not to mention it to their girlfriends until he talked to Jennifer. “I ran into a girl I used to know back at Ibadan.” He had their full attention.

“An old girlfriend!” Tunde asked.

“Who is she?” Bayo asked almost simultaneously. Andy didn’t have to voice the questions reflected on his face.

Banks was still reluctant. “Her name is Lade. We were very close back then. I never dreamed I’ll run into her ever again.”

Bayo and Tunde were excited. “Small world,” said Bayo.

“Okay, details bro,” Tunde urged. “When did you run into her?”

“The night of Chika’s party.” Banks watched Andy drain his glass. He walked to the refrigerator to get a beer while he listened to Banks tell how he ran into the girl. He wasn’t really excited by the news like the other two.

“Anyone else need a beer?”

Banks paused his narrative. “Stone me one.” Andy threw him a can of Heinekeen. He caught it and drained his wine glass next. Andy took out two extra for Bayo and Tunde, and went to join them by the table next to the easel. Banks had continued his story after popping the can. Andy handed Bayo and Tunde a beer each and popped his.

“But it was like the Lade I knew had flipped at some point. She never smoked, always wore the most modest clothes and Amstel Malt used to be her favorite drink… you know…same pretty girl, but she’s gotten even more beautiful. Very beautiful guys, she…wait till you see her.

“She’s no longer a turd you mean.” Bayo said with a snigger.

“She’s a wild card now, the wildest card in a pack.”

“Nice. You bought her a beer?”

“A big stout. She’d just had a couple before I joined her. She looked like another wouldn’t hurt.”

“Not even Tell-all-your-stories-in-one-night-and-laugh-at-everything tipsy?” Tunde asked.

“No, that would be your girl Theresa.” Banks replied. They all laughed, including Andy.

“I always liked me a girl that can hold her liquor.” Andy said.

“So, when do we get to meet her?” Tunde asked.

“I don’t know. Her work schedule is kind of hectic, I understand.”

“What does she do for a living?” Andy asked.

Banks hesitated. “She’s a stylist. She works long hours and rarely has time for social stuff.”

“Wow, that’s nice. Idara would like her perhaps.” Bayo said already foreseeing a nice, cozy relationship. However, Andy knew Banks better than the rest. He was sure his friend wasn’t being entirely truthful. Banks had hesitated before answering his question. Anyway, Banks’ head was in the cloud today. He wouldn’t achieve anything by bursting his bubbles with the numerous questions swirling around his head.

sirblero:
Wow!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Nice 1!!!!!.........bin ridin dis story since 12 till nw...... Omo. Its nice....#following#. 1rst 2 comment!

Thanks a lot

***


The date wasn’t a disaster, more like a prolonged visit with the in-laws, with the numerous guarded moments and accompanying awkwardness. Lade had her first plate of steaks and together with Banks, had drained a bottle of 1992 Chianti, while they reminisced about college and their teenage years. She had pumped Banks full of questions about his private life and school and learned about his talent and proclivities in art school. However, each time Banks sent the ball to her court and broached the subject of her life, she skimmed the topic off the top and quickly switched the conversation back to him.

By dessert time however, she was a mess and desperately needed a cigarette. She turned down her plate of salad because she wasn’t sure she could hold her cutlery steady enough. The slight tremor on her wine glass hand was noticeable. She was sure Banks was only pretending not to notice. She fled to the bathroom with her purse twice. The first time, she found herself an empty stall and had spilled half the contents of her purse in search of the folded cloth that contained a little quantity of white powder. However she couldn’t bring herself to take a sniff. She’d been afraid he’d notice. She’d been afraid she wouldn’t be lucid enough. She fought her need and succeeded. She splashed water from the sink on her face and dried up. Ten minutes later, she was back at the still vacant restroom stall. She just needed a little relief, she’d convinced herself.

The sun had gone down when they left the restaurant. Lade was as plastered as freshly poured concrete. Her smile was pasted and never wavered. She looked okay, but Banks was sure something was different after her second trip to the bathroom. She seemed high-strung – talking a bit louder and laughing a bit easier.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked for the umpteenth time.

Lade giggled. “I am. Don’t I look okay to you?”

“You do! Just making sure.” Banks replied.

“Dinner was great, thanks,” she said and leaned in to peck his cheek. She giggled at the look on Banks’ face.

Banks began walking in the direction of the bar but Lade pulled at him to stop. “I thought we said…”

“That wine was enough drinks for one night. I don’t want a beer to spoil its taste in my mouth.” Lade said giggling.

Her tongue seemed looser, Banks realized. He looked around them “Well, we’ve got a full moon and no clouds tonight. How about that walk, before we call it a night?”

Lade shrugged. “Of course!” She replied.

The air was cool because of the evening breeze from the lake. They walked hand-in-hand in silence. There were security lights placed at strategic positions to illuminate the walk around the circular lake. Few couples and groups were littered everywhere.

Lade took it all in. “This is the best evening I’ve had in a long time, Peter.” She said.

“My friends always talked about this place. This is my first time here too.” Banks replied.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah? I’m surprised we haven’t taken a selfie yet.”

Lade shook her head but didn’t say anything. Banks pulled her close to him while taking out his blackberry. Lade leaned into him as she felt his arm encircle her waist. Banks opened his camera application.

“Give me your sweetest smile baby,” he said. He looked at the picture and smiled in satisfaction. “Good enough for instagram?” he asked, passing the phone to her.

The picture was perfect. She chuckled. “I wonder what explanation you’d give your girlfriend.”

“There you go again.”

“What! You really want me to believe your cock-and-bull about Jennifer being just friends with you?” At her insistence, Banks had told him about Jennifer albeit reluctantly. She felt Banks stiffen against her and tense up. He removed his hand from around her waist and stopped walking. Lade stopped too and searched his face. His eyes were unreadable. “What’s the matter?” She asked.

“Nothing!” He replied a bit too quickly. “I…” He paused to think. “Well, I don’t seem to have any trouble believing you aren’t avoiding or omitting things about you.”

The smile faded from her face. The truth in his accusation almost stung. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just…your family’s sudden rise to affluence…your art studio…you’re a far more interesting topic than I am.”

Banks wasn’t impressed by her smart reply. They both stared at each other, standing by the lake with the moon high above them. Their eyes spoke volumes. Lade’s wished the ground would open up to swallow her. She hated lying to him but was having fun as it was with him. She wasn’t yet ready for him to judge her.

“So, what do you want to know?”

Banks went straight for the jugular. “What do you do for a living?” He asked. “And who is Nicky? That ugly guy called you Nicky. Before that, Jerry too.”

The M-moment. To her credit, Lade kept her expression straight above the raging inferno in her head. She even indulged a smile and looked around her as if searching for a place to hide from his quizzing glare.

“I dance,” Lade said. She cringed inward at the lie as she walked away from him towards a stone bench to sit down.

At its best, the lie represented how low she’d truly fallen. The last time they’d been close, she was leaving for tertiary education at the University of Lagos. She had bigger prospects back then, so how had she ended a dancer?

At its worst, the lie stank. She definitely wasn’t the Lade they both used to know - almost the inverse version. Yet the feeling was the same and so he went to sit beside her even though he knew she was lying.

“Dance! How come, Lade?”

“I don’t strip or climb poles and give lap dances or anything of the sort. No. I just dance professionally at CRASH. You know the place?” She gambled that he didn’t. And lost.

Banks frowned. “CRASH! I’ve been there a few times with my friends! My cousin Andy and his girlfriend love the place. I’ve never seen you there before.”

Lade shrugged. “Me neither. It’s a big place you know. And I never said I work every day.”

Banks just sat there staring at her. She returned his stare but looked away first. Banks got to his feet. “It’s alright,” he said in a gruff manner. “It’s not really that much of a big deal anyway. Come, I’ll drop you off. It’s getting late and we’ve got to get going.” He looked at his wrist watch. Lade hesitated and got a glaring stare from Banks. “Hurry up,” he said. “I’ve got other things to do at home.”

Lade was reluctant to get to her feet, but he didn’t wait. He was already retracing his way back to the parking lot. She’d lied so brazenly to his face and she knew he was walking away for good. The thought hurt like a stuck knife twisting in her chest. “Wait!” She called almost breathlessly, but he didn’t stop. “Peter wait!” She called again and hurried after him.

Banks heard her approaching footsteps and stopped, and waited for her to catch up with him. He turned to watch her approach. Fear and anxiety were written on her face like graffiti on a slum wall. What the hell happened to her? Why wouldn’t she just tell him about it? Why wouldn’t she trust him to be objective?

She was sweating reluctance when she arrived and he let her catch her breath. “I lied,” she began. “Almost everything I’ve told you about me is a lie.”

“I already know that,” Banks said, not giving her any quarters.

Lade nodded and looked down to hide the fact that she was blinking back threatening tears. “I am sorry. I’m really sorry.” She said in a quivering voice. “I am torn between my private shame and the fear of… of not seeing you again. The truth…you probably will not want to see me again.”

“Your lies are already making me think like that.”

She looked up at him and noticed his face soften a bit when he saw her misty eyes. She looked anxious. “I am not proud of the person I am. Or what I do for a living.” She continued. Banks regarded her with some curiosity but folded his hands. “But when we are together, I feel… worthy… like… like I can retrace my steps out of this thing…I am on. Like I could clean up my act and get my life back to normal. You used to be proud of me…of our friendship. But I’m not that person anymore and I lie because I’d hate to see you judge me.” She looked down at her feet again.

His heart was beating wildly too. She had all but confessed to his suspicions. What if Vanessa was right? Did she do drugs too? He refused the urge to check her arms for needle marks. “What about your father, and Godwin?” he asked instead.

Did she just stifle a sob? He looked at her more closely. He put an index finger under her jaw and lifted her chin up to see her face. The tears welled up in her eyes and his alarm meter shot through the roof. He knew the answer before she opened her mouth.

“There was an accident.” She said. “The car brakes had been tampered with. They…they…”

She started sobbing. The tears welled up Bank’s eyes too as he pulled her into an embrace. Her body shook with her sobs and he could feel his t-shirt soak up. He hadn’t imagined this. He was shocked to his roots. She had no immediate family anymore. Her uncle who lived up north was a no-brainer. He was one of those fanatic Muslim converts who never came back home. She was truly alone, he realized and his heart went out to her. He ran his hand up and down her back and listened to her cry. “I’m sorry Lade. I’m so sorry. Oh my God! Oh my God!” he kept muttering. He kissed the dreadlocks at the top of her head. She felt so soft and warm in his embrace and in that moment, he wished he could kiss all her troubles away, no matter what it was.

“Take your time, okay! I won’t leave you, Lade. I’ll wait. Whenever you want to talk about it…I’ll be here.” he said.

Lade stiffened when her foggy mind cleared enough to understand what he just said. He was taking a chance with her. She pulled out of his embrace and looked up at him with her teary and surprised face. “You’ll do that for me?”

“Yes,” Banks replied nodding. “But don’t ever lie to me again Lade.”

Lade smiled an apology and leaned in to give him a soft peck on his left cheek. She looked at him darting the tip of her tongue to wet her lower lip. Banks looked down at her lips – full and sensuous. The same lips that could part into the prettiest smile he’d ever seen. He remembered he’d always imagined what it’d feel like to kiss them and knew it was about time he found out. She brought her face closer to his and he leaned in to erase the rest of the distance that separated them. He had no more thoughts except one – pleasing her.

Their lips touched lightly and she breathed in the scent of his cologne again, his breath and his very being. Her heart skidded to a halt as the soft brush of her mouth against his turned her senses into a whirlpool. She closed her eyes when she felt his tongue creep out and when it touched her lips, she opened her mouth willingly.

She felt the spark of heat sear through her and her face flamed hot from the emotions that ran over her. She tilted her head and sent her tongue after his invader. She shivered at the first touch and her fingers slid up to grip his arms as she melted into him. Nothing in her experience with men prepared her for the sensuousness of his kiss. Her knees buckled with a strange weakness and she felt like a virgin having her first kiss. His fingers interlaced with her locks to coax her head closer to deepen his onslaught. She shuddered and wondered if she was giving him as good as she was getting.

Their mouths crushed each other’s and their tongues went to full blown war, both wanting to feast on what they had denied themselves. Lade clung to him as her head twisted to the right, then to the left, seeking the perfect angle to send her tongue deeper into his mouth and taste his core. She had her reply when she heard him groan into the kiss. The kiss ended abruptly and she quickly hid her flushed face and swollen lips in his strong chest, and attempted to catch her breath.

“Wow,” came a female voice close by. They both turned to find a Viewer couple with smiles on their faces. “That was hot to watch,” she said and smiled at her boyfriend who mouthed the word “sorry” at Banks and Lade. He tugged his mate after him and both went off in another direction.

Banks took Lade’s hands in his and kissed the back of her right palm. They smiled at each other like they’d just discovered a secret they both shared. Lade’s phone suddenly rang in her purse and the mood was gone. She unzipped her purse and took out her phone. It was Cindy calling. She smiled at Banks.

“My friend, Cindy. I have to take it.”

“Of course. Go ahead dear.”

Lade smiled at the endearment as she answered the call. “Hey Cindy!” Her smile disappeared the next instant and was replaced by a scowl. “Okay, I’ll meet you there on time…no problem…not now, bye.” She ended the call and looked up at Banks.

“Curfew?” Banks asked. Lade nodded. “I have to go, even though I don’t want to.”

Banks shrugged to hide his disappointment. The night was still young. Lade smoothed the crease on his forehead with her thumb and leaned into him for a quick kiss. Then, she rested her head on his chest and felt his hand encircle his waist. So they stood for a full minute.

Were they using each other? Or did a just rekindled relationship take a step closer in the right direction; an old friendship uninhibited this time, and by time. Banks’ head was a quagmire but he sighed in concession and again took her hand in his.

“Come,” he said. “I’ll drive you home.”

“No!” She said in surprise. “I’ll take a taxi. It’s…safer this way.”

Banks nodded reluctantly. “Then, I’ll drive you to a junction where you can get a taxi easier.” Banks said. Lade nodded. There was gratitude in her eyes and she realized that she was right about him. They shared love and passion, and she was the happiest woman alive that night.

***


Luxury Resort, also known as Governor’s Park bragged an artificial lake, a park, a golf course, a restaurant and a museum. The lake was fed from the nearby Oludo River, one of the Atlantic Ocean inlets in the southern part of the city. Two army patrol trucks were stationed at the North and South entrances and few plain clothed security men walked about unarmed but with walkie-talkies hoping to keep the peace and rules as much as they could.

Lade’s taxi pulled up at the southern gate which was closer to the lake. She’d never been to this part of Lagos ever, in her ten years living in the city. Business never brought her here as Sting’s trade was frowned up in the premises, and she rarely had her own time to explore. As such, she’d been thrilled when Peter’s text message directed her to the resort that evening. She paid her taxi man and alighted in a silver gown and red four inch heeled shoes. She wore the jewelry set Cindy had bought her and her natural dreadlocks were tied to a ponytail behind her. Lade looked around her surrounding to take in the beauty of the place. The adverts she’d seen on cable didn’t do justice to it.

The sun was yet to set that evening and the sky seemed clear enough for an outdoor date. The garden was very tidy and several couples were sitting on blankets on the smooth grass just close to the water. A flock of birds were flying low over the quiet water. The path to the restaurant was slopy, graveled and wide enough for two cars driving abreast. It led to a small parking lot outside the one story glass restaurant building. You couldn’t see inside from outside, but Lade could bet the insiders could view anyone walking outside. The thought of being watched crossed her mind and she looked around and saw Banks sitting on the hood of a Mercedes convertible with one hand poised behind him. He had parked in line of sight of the southern gate and smiled when she spotted him. She smiled back and walked towards him already feeling exhilarated.

Banks’ eyes never left hers as she made her way up to him. The gleam was already in his eye by the time she got it halfway – as if her beauty never ceased to amaze him. She shivered at the thought of being so desirable. Of course she knew she was, but… The hand behind him suddenly appeared with a single stalk of rose flower when she was a couple steps away. The shit-eating grin that lit up her face was one that had not been on her face in a very long time.

“Peter! A flower! Come on!”

“All yours! And don’t start this your forming.” Peter said and handed her the flower.

She took the flower with a smile and. She raised it to her nose and inhaled the fresh rose scent. “No one ever bought me flowers.” She said.

Banks alighted from the hood of the car. “Well, I’m glad to be your first,” he replied alighting from the hood of his car. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“I promised. Besides, I’ve never been to governor’s park.”

“Really! You’ve been in this city longer than I?” He asked, an incredulous look appearing on his face.

“Eight years, yeah, why are you surprised? And whose luxury car have you borrowed to impress me?”

Banks blinked. “It’s not a luxury car! It’s…just a two year old Mercedes benz.” He said shrugging.

Lade scoffed. “A convertible,” she said. “I’m not looking to be impressed by you, PB.”

Banks took out the car remote from his pocket and locked the car with a beep shrugging at her. “F.Y.I. the ride is mine. But I’ll do my best to be modest,” he replied with a mischievously grin at her amazed face. He took her hand. “Meanwhile, here we are. What would you like to do? See a movie? Early dinner at the restaurant? A few drinks? A walk in the park?”

Lade mused a bit, the smile never leaving her face. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone out on a date. A real date. “How about…we skip the movie and do the rest in the same sequence?”

“Dinner and a few drinks and a walk in the park!” he shrugged. “Okay. Have I told you what a gorgeous lady you turned out to be?” He asked as he led her towards the restaurant building. “You’re so beautiful, Lade.”

And despite hearing it a million times from a thousand and one guys, Lade looked away to hide the crimson staining her fair cheeks. This wasn’t some guy paying Sting for a few hours with her. This was Peter Bankole, her college crush.

***


Cindy climbed the stairs to the last floor of their apartment building. She had a shopping bag in her hand. She ran into Gina, one of Sting’s newbies whose turn it was on Sting’s bleeping roster. She had a bucket and was going downstairs to fetch water from the tap. Spencer must not like her, since the water pipes to her apartment was the only one which had stayed broken since two weeks now.

Gina was surprised to see her. “Cindy! I hear say you go A.B.J!” She said.

“I came back last night,” Cindy replied. “How you de?”

“My dear! Na only me in this whole house wey de go downstairs to fetch water with the salon girls. I no sabi wetin I do that boy wey de answer Spencer.”

“Ah! Na Spencer you call boy? Hmmm…be like say you never ready to get water for your flat. You don call am for phone.”

“Im no de pick my call,” Gina said and sighed looking sad.

Cindy took pity on her. “Spencer go come house this evening. I go try persuade am, make im call plumber for you.”

Gina’s eyes lit up a bit. “You’d do that for me? Thank you Cindy.”

“It’s not a problem,” Cindy replied.

Gina had long spied the shopping bag Cindy half-held behind her. “So, you’re going up to see Lade? Is that what you bought for her?”

“Na so you too poke-nose, Gina! Wetin concern you with the bag wey I carry?” Cindy said scowling.

Gina sneered at her and descended the stairs past her. “Just don’t forget about Spence abeg. I fit buy you small gift too if you run am for me.” She said smiling and continued on down the stairs. Cindy shook her head and continued upwards.

Gina called her friend Muna as soon as she got to the backyard. She set her bucket under the tap and started the water while she listened to the ring-back.

Muna picked. “Wetin she talk?” She asked over the phone sounding excited. Gina had a victorious smile on her face. “You were right. She de like play BIG Mama.” Gina said. Muna giggled over the phone. “And guess what?” Gina continued.

Cindy knocked at Nicky’s door eager to get away from the curious eyes along the corridor. She found the door into the apartment slightly open and entered the bedroom shutting the door after herself.

It was all still shabby and scattered. The peculiar scent of indian hemp and dirty laundry wafted through the apartment. Cindy shuts the door after her and wrinkled her nose at the sight. She traced the Indian hemp smell to the adjourning kitchen, a sharp contrast to the bedroom as usual. A kettle of water was steaming on a kerosene stove. Cindy could see Lade through the backdoor, standing outside at the back porch, smoking her pot and day-dreaming. Cindy turned off the stove and creeped up to her

Lade wore a pullover, green bum shorts and a pair of bathroom slippers on her feet. The plaster on her cheek had been removed and a little scar was all that was left in place of the healed cut. Cindy tickled her. She jumped around and shouted in shock. Then she recognized Cindy smiling. “Jeez! Cindy! You frightened me!”

Cindy giggled at her own joke. “Fear Fear! Of course, it is just me!” Cindy said chuckling.

“Kai, Cindy! When did you come in?” she asked.

“Late last night…Alhaji decide to cut his journey short…problems for im working place wey need im urgent attention”.

“At least you enjoyed yourself! See as you just de shine!”

Cindy chuckled. “It was short, but it was okay. The man sabi take care of his women. I buy this one for you”. She gave Lade the shopping bag.

Lade frowned at Cindy. “A gift! You shouldn’t have Cindy!” She took a peek into the bag and saw a beautiful jewel case. Her heart quickened. She gave Cindy her joint to hold and put her hand into the bag to retrieve the case. It was black, rectangular and quite heavy. GUCCI was embossed in golden italics at a small corner of the case. The bag dropped from her hands as she carefully opened the case to view its contents. There were a pair a silver ear rings and a matching necklace.

“I thought it will go well with those shoes you bought two weeks ago,” said Cindy.

Lade’s face was radiant with her smile. Her morning moodiness was gone. “It will,” she replied. “Cindy these are beautiful! I can’t accept.”

Cindy took a short drag and blew the smoke on Lade’s face. “Nah, I picked them for you. You keep them.”

“Thank you Cindy! But I can’t. Sting will say…” Lade caught herself.

Cindy got curious when Lade didn’t complete her sentence. “Sting will say what? I bought them for you myself.”

“He won’t believe that,” Lade muttered. “You’re so thoughtful, Cindy, but I can’t keep these…”

“Why not, Nicky?”

Lade closed the closed the case and bent to pick up the shopping bag.

“Talk to me! Wetin happen?”

Lade hesitated. “Nothing much,” she said.

Cindy gave her a knowing look. “You’re a very bad liar and you know it. So no even start. Tell me!”

“There isn’t… nothing… really… Cindy leave that one abeg,” Lade said looking up to meet Cindy’s gaze. Cindy was the only person who’d looked out for her all these years, yet in that moment, Lade wondered if she could trust her.

Cindy frowned at her. “I know that look. And yes, I’ve noticed how secretive you’ve gotten this past few days. You didn't even tell me Sting left a mark on your face when we last spoke on the phone. It’s me, Cindy! Who else can you tell? Come on! Cough it up!”

Lade hesitated, but relaxed after a moment of silence. “Okay…I met a guy. Someone I knew from when I used to leave in Ibadan.” She paused.

“Oh!” Cindy smiled. “You went soft on him and Sting found out.”

“Something like that,” Lade replied. She turned to lean on the balcony and stare out. Cindy went to join her and passed her the remaining joint. Lade took a short, thought-filled drag, held it in for a long time before blowing out the rest of it through her nose. Cindy remained quiet, just standing there staring out with her.

“Have you ever thought that we could be something better than this?” Lade inquired with a dead serious look on her face when she fixes her gaze on Cindy’s.

Cindy was taken aback by the question. She frowned at Lade. “Nicky, that is a dangerous topic. If Sting or that creepy one, Spencer hears you talk like this, there will be worser consequences than a tiny scar on your right cheek.” Cindy warned,

“I know! But…You’re my friend…my only friend in this place. I can trust you, right?” Lade asked, a bit curious, a bit frightened.

Cindy nodded. “M-hmmm,” she replied. She could sense that her friend was serious and this was important to her. Somehow, Cindy felt flattered Lade chose to confide in her, knowing this was no idle gossip. “Tell me about him,” she said.

Lade took another drag at her joint, this time a dreamy look washes over her face. “I ran into him at Rosa’s bar. His name is Peter…”

“Woah! Slow down! Rosa’s bar, that’s Mandy’s joint, right?”

“Yes. Sting sent me there.”

“Okay, Peter is a nice name. I bet he’s tall dark and handsome?”

“Not very tall… fair, but handsome yes”.

Cindy gave her a knowing smile. “Don’t mind me, go on,” she said.

“We used to be close friends. I liked him a lot. But the guy is a player…there was always a different girl in his back pocket.”

“Hmm. I like him already.” Cindy said teasingly.

“Of course you do. Anyway, he bought me a beer. Normal stuff.” Lade paused to smile like she was relieving a pleasurable experience in her head. Cindy noticed and chuckled.

Lade got back to her tale. “It’s crazy. I’ve never had so much fun just talking with anyone else before.”

“Excluding me, right?”

Lade smiled at her. “Yes, but you’re more like my big sister. We live together, hustle together. We understand each other. He is a guy. Still, it is like he… we connect each time we talk, you know?” She said. The fire on the joint was dying out. Lade took out a lighter from the pocket of her shorts and rekindled the joint. She took another pleasure-filled drag, blew it out with some relief and went on. “I felt comfortable sitting there, listening to him and talking to him…remembering things I liked about him…the way he laughed at my jokes…the way he looked at me… He was comfortable with me, not thinking sex…just… what’s the word…companionship…it was fun.” Lade passed the remaining joint to Cindy who took it from her and began smoking without a word. She was waiting for the punch line.

“It was nice! That is, until Sting came in and spoiled the whole set up,” Lade said with some spite.

Cindy was amused. “He told the guy?”

Lade winced. “Sort of…he asked me if the guy had paid for my time. Then he threatened to kill the guy if he ever saw him around me again.”

Cindy was not surprised. “Buzz killer! Sting na real bad belle,” she said shrugging.

A short bout of silence ensued before… “He…he called me… yesterday.”

Cindy turned to look at her, eyes wide with surprise. “He has your number?”

Lade nodded. “Yes. I gave it to him before Sting showed up. He said he’ll like to see me again…tonight.”

Cindy tittered. “Your lover boy is funny,” she said. ”Sting will cut his thing off if he catches him again.”

Lade didn’t find it funny though. She wished Cindy wasn’t downright honest. She looked down at her open palms. Cindy was right. Sting would more than cause a scene if that night re-occurred. She looked up at Cindy to meet her searching gaze. Her thoughts were mirrored in her face. Cindy’s eyes widened in realization, “You agreed to see him!”

Lade turned away. “God! What am I doing?” she soliloquized aloud.

Cindy got her serious face out fast, “I’ll tell you what you’re doing, Nicky!” She said. “It’s a fantasy you’re trying to live! You watch too many movies. You’ll get him killed and your eye blackened big time if you let this charade get out of hand!”

“It’s not a charade!”

“Is it not? Does he know what you do for a living?”

Lade sighed and walked into her kitchen leaving Cindy at the back porch. Cindy crushed the rest of the joint with her thumb and went in after her. She found Lade pouring the hot water into a bowl plate containing melted akamu. Cindy went to sit on a stool next to her. “Does he?” She repeated her question.

Lade sighed as she turned the hot pap as it turned semi solid. “I’m sure he suspects. But I…I’ll tell him the truth.”

“Will you; and everything else too?”

Lade stared hard ahead as another bout of silence ensued, this one longer than the previous ones. When she looked up at Cindy, it was with hopeful eyes. “You don’t know him as well as I do, Cindy. He’s a really decent guy. What if he doesn’t judge me by that?” she asked shaking her head. “I know, fantasy right? There are so many what-ifs which cannot be answered, but I… I need my life back. I’ve been giving it a lot of thought since I ran into him. It’s like all my mates have moved up and past me, and I’ve been left behind. I used to be better than this. I used to be better than all of them!”

“And he’s going to be your bus ticket out of all this? You want to risk your life over some guy?” Cindy asked.

“Stop saying it like that. He’s not just some guy, Cindy. We grew up together. He respects me. We’ve always had feelings for each other.”

“Feelings!” Cindy spat. “That is the result of sitting indoors all day, day-dreaming about someone. How far can your feelings take you before they die? Abi you feel say feelings dey last forever?” She asked harshly.

“I don’t know! I mean…he may stop liking me when I tell him the kind of person I now am. At the end I may not be able to quit this life. We may even get killed by Sting. I just…I’ve never been so confused.” More silence.

“Or if he loves you, he’ll take the risk, clean you up and you live happily ever after.”

Lade chuckled at the absurdity. First she had to tell him everything, then see how it went afterwards.

CHAPTER FOUR


Truth is a bitter pill, hence a druggie will always feed you sweet lies . Banks drove his Mercedes through the winding asphalt lane that ran through the almost empty campus of PAUL-HARRY’S College Of Art, Lagos. He’d gone to bed after calling Lade early that morning and woken up late. His favorite car had been returned and washed. He’d left without checking on Andy. He didn’t have any ready answers for his questions. Seeing him reminded him of Chika... And Jennifer. Good thing Andy was in his own room at the house sleeping. Banks didn’t bother waking him. He preferred to stick with his waking thoughts – all full of Lade.

Okay, maybe she’d lied to him. Who was anyone to judge? People lie every day, especially those with reason to. That didn’t mean all of them were druggies too. Banks turned left at an intersection thinking up more excuses for her. His eyes caught the framed paintings at the backseats through hid rear mirror. He was taking them to his project supervisor that morning. He glanced at his wrist watch. He had an hour to kill. Just another left and he’d be outside the faculty building.

PAUL-HARRY’S College of Art which was located along Isolo Way majored in special courses like Fine and Applied Arts, performing arts and writing courses. The school was especially for the rich and talented only because their fees were expensive and the graduation requirements quite high. The first thing he saw when Banks made his left turn was Idara’s new ELANTRA, a birthday gift from her father, the commissioner of Works at faraway Akwa Ibom state, parked along the road. She was Chika’s colleague in theatre arts and the only thing that ever brought her to this part of the campus was to see Jennifer. Jennifer was around then. Banks hadn't expected that.

He had a better view of the parking lot beside the faculty building as he got closer to the car. Jennifer’s ELEMENT was parked there among a few other cars with its booth open. Idara, Chika and Jennifer were standing behind the car in view of the road. Banks let out his breath in a rush through his mouth when Idara recognized his car approaching. Thank God he had an hour to kill, he thought. Banks pressed his horn at them and drove past Idara’s car into the lot to park next to the ELEMENT.

Jennifer was lifting a tool box when she heard the horn. She heard Chika sigh and turned to see the Mercedes pull up beside her car. She’d thought of what she’ll do if she saw him. She didn’t know. She was still hurt and disappointed, and he hadn’t called to apologize in two days. She turned to her friends. “I have to go, I’ll see you both for lunch?”

“Lunch is on you, coward?” Chika teased with her eyes. “Or you could just tell him off to his face”. She added. Idara didn’t understand what was going on.

Jennifer glared at her cousin. “Fine,” she said and turned to walk towards the faculty building. There were other people hanging around and she didn’t want to make a scene. She heard his hurried footsteps closing in on her. “Jennifer wait! Stop”! She heard him call out. “Go away, Banks! Don’t talk to me right now!” She shouted back at him. Most of the onlookers around were in the same level and faculty as them and knew their story. She ignored the staring eyes as she increased her pace towards the building entrance. A lot of gossip would follow, she was sure.

Banks caught up with her easily. He had longer strides and her tool box was quite heavy. She felt him grab her right arm to stop her. She tried to pull away and lost hold of her tool box. It fell on her feet and she yelped in pain.

“Woah! Shit!” Banks exclaimed in surprise. “I’m sorry, Jen! Are you okay?”

Jennifer slapped him hard on the cheek and limped away into the faculty building leaving her tool box and Banks’ ego at his feet.

Banks heard a few onlookers smirking, and suddenly was aware he had an audience. He looked around and saw that those not smirking were wondering at what had just happened. Almost half of his class was present in a small garden park on the other side of the road opposite the faculty building. Chika and Idara hurried up to him. Chika stopped to pick up the toolbox and continued past him with a pleased look on her face. “You still owe me a birthday present, Banks”. She said with a slight smile.

Idara stopped beside him. She was puzzled at what was happening with her friends. She gave Banks a quizzing look. “Are you okay? She asked. Banks nodded and began walking back to his Mercedes. Idara was even more puzzled. She hesitated, and after one last glance at Chika who was heading to the faculty building, she went after Banks to his car. “Hey, what just happened?”

“Nothing! It’s just a little misunderstanding which will be sorted out eventually.” Banks replied entering the car and started the engine up but didn’t touch the gear stick. Idara went around and entered the front next to Banks. They sat there just feeling the air conditioning and staring ahead in silence.

***

Banks entered the kitchen ten minutes later. He had gone to his room to put on a t-shirt and camouflage-colored three-quarter shorts. A jug of cold milk and empty tumblers were on the kitchen table He saw Vanessa and Mike talking to each other in low tones each sipping from a glass of milk. Mike wore an apron over his white inner vest. He was tall and muscular, just the kind of guys his sister usually went for. They noticed him, stopped talking and smiled at him

“Ah! There he is!” Mike said aloud.

“Hey guys! What were you whispering about?” Banks returned. He went to pour himself a glass.

“Mummy called…she said she and Susan had missed their flight. They’ll find a hotel for the night and then take the first flight home tomorrow.”

Banks shrugged. He sniffed the air. Mhmm. He loved the smell of butter and cream. “Whatever you’re making Mike, it sure smells nice.”“Thank you, I call them Indian cookies.” Mike said. Banks and Vannessa exchange glances.

“Indian”! Banks was surprised.

Mike chuckled. It sounded like a coughing leister. “They are cookies alright, but the recipe is Indian.” Mike said.

Banks turned to Vanessa with a quizzing stare, “Has anyone in the house been to India lately?”

“Mike has! He just got back two weeks ago.”

Banks turns to Mike with awe. “How come I’ve not been anywhere? What took you there, Mike? Can’t be business?”

“It was all business, alright. It was a three-month crash course in jungle combat techniques.”

“That’s interesting, Mike…but about the cookies, it’s almost midnight. We are having fun as it is; the last thing we want is a running stomach.” Banks said.

Vanessa chuckled in agreement. “He’s right, babe.”

“Wait and eat before you judge.” Mike replied laughing.

“Speaking of judgments…” Banks began when Mike stopped laughing. “What is this big secret you guys wanted to tell me about?

Vanessa and Mike exchanged glances. Mike nodded at her to go ahead. Vanessa raised her left hand to show Banks the beautiful diamond ring around her middle finger.

“Mike proposed to me this morning, and I accepted!” Vanessa said with excitement.

Banks grinned even though he was surprised. He placed his glass on the kitchen table and went to hug her. He could see the relief in their faces at his approval. “To be honest, I was expecting to hear that my sister is pregnant. I’m really happy for you, Sister V. that it is not.” He said with a jovial tone.

Vanessa disengaged from the hug and searched his face, only to find a teasing smile on them. She thumped his chest. Banks pulled her into a fiercer hug. “I’m really happy for you, don’t mind me.” He said more seriously. He went to shake Mike’s hand afterwards.

“We thought you’ll be slow to accept the idea…” Mike began.

“The idea! You call marrying my sister an idea? Check that sort of language at the door when talking to my mother.” He said smiling again. “And why would you think I’d be slow in accepting? Anything that will get my sister out of this house so I can have it all to myself is fine by me.” He had a serious tone in his voice.

Vanessa and Mike exchanged surprised glances and turned puzzled looks at Banks who suddenly began to laugh again, pointing at their faces.

“Come on,” Banks said. “I never thought I’d get you guys this easy! You know I’m always teasing you Sister V! I’m genuinely happy for you both. Mike, I’ve watched your relationship with my sister since it began, and I see that you’re happy and contented with each other. I don’t know… but, sometimes I wish I had that.” He was quiet for a moment with a frozen smile and a blank stare. Thoughts of Lade flashed in his memory.

Vanessa noticed he’d slipped out into a different mood and guessed what was troubling him. “Do you mean what you just said?” She asked bringing him back to present.

Banks said, “Yes, hundred percent support” and took a swig off his glass. They were both pleased with his reply. The part that remained was selling his mom ‘the idea’.

Just then the oven beeped. Mike chose two kitchen towels from a wooden railing. He opened the oven and carried out a large baking tray covered with heart-shaped cookies.

“Oh sweetie…they look as good as they smell!” Vanessa said.

“I’m sure they taste even better.” Mike replied. He placed the tray on the kitchen surface and took a hot one to his mouth. He closed his eyes to savour the taste. “Mmmm…this is…come on guys…you have to try it.” He urged.

Vanessa took one. Banks followed suit. They both took tentative bites and exchanged glances. “What do you think, Peter?”

“Definitely better than yours, Sister V… it is hot and spicy, heavy too…a real snack. Mike, you should totally own a café…”

“No way,” Vanessa replied. “Mike is too manly for kitchen duty.”

“Well, what a waste of culinary skills then,” Banks replied. “This is very good, Mike. Just save some of this for mom and you’re definitely welcome into the family.”

“Peter,” Vanessa chided. “Don’t forget our deal.”

“What deal?” Mike asked.

“I tell him our secret, he tells us his, right Peter?”

Banks didn’t reply at first. He found himself staring at his milk glass again, wondering which part to tell them and which part to leave out. “Peter!” He looked up to see them both watching him.

“Slow down Vanessa. Let him talk at his own pace.” Mike advised. They ate hot cookies and cold milk in silence for a full minute. Vanessa was at the edge of her patience when he cleared his throat signifying his readiness to speak. He was reluctant at first. “I ran into an old friend the other night. Her name is Lade. Sister V, I wonder if you remember her…”

“Lade…Lade…Lade. Why is the name vaguely familiar?” She wondered aloud with a thoughtful frown on her face.

“We were close back when I attended Ibadan High! Remember?”

Vanessa’s eyes widens in recollection. “Lade is in Lagos! Wow, that should be good! As I recall, back then, she’d left with… too many blanks unfilled.”

Banks shrugged to that.

Mike was clueless.

“Well, what is she like these days? When are you inviting her home?” Vanessa hurled the questions at him. She could remember the girl that wouldn’t date her cute brother even though they were close friends back in his secondary school days. She’d had a hard time working her brother’s ego back into shape after Lade left to further her education. Vanessa noticed his hesitation and frowned at him. “Peter, what happened?”

Banks remembered his sister had liked Lade most ‘of all his girlfriends’ as she used to say. He suddenly felt like the bearer of bad news. Somehow, it would have been better if Vanessa didn’t remember her at all.

Vanessa turned to Mike, “I’m not getting a good vibe out of this.” Mike shrugged at her. “I don’t know… I’m sure there is more, we just have to be patient to hear it all.” Mike said. He turned to Banks. “You say you ran into her...”

“Yes, three nights ago.” He paused to sip his milk absentmindedly. “I bought her a beer…big stout.”

Vanessa was surprised at that one. “I didn’t think…” Mike nudged at her to keep her from interrupting Banks’ narration.

“We began getting reacquainted at the bar near where I met her. She was there alright – jovial, full of playful jokes and quick witted, just as I remember; but she was like…like a different person. The Lade I remember had a self-imposed curfew at seven pm, not to mention the alcohol…” Banks lapsed into another thought-filled silence.

Vanessa was puzzled. “Is that it? Is that why you’ve been brooding these past few days? I thought it had more to do with Andy and why your Mercedes has been missing from the garage for the past two days.”

Banks continued as if she hadn’t spoken. He looked up at Mike this time. “Then one ugly man came in…and asked her…quite roughly…if I’d paid her for her company.” Banks gulped the rest of the milk in his tumbler down. He heard Vanessa gasp. Mike didn’t react.

“Did you sleep with her?” Vanessa asked rather too quickly.

“What sort of question is that?” Banks asked frowned at his elder sister. “No! We were just talking like I said! The man came in, and I had to leave!”

Nobody said a word for quite some time. Neither Vanessa nor Mike had a ready-made response for this one. Banks took another cookie and bit it in half.

“What I don’t understand is how it is possible. Where is her elder brother Godwin. He used to give me a hard time about her hanging with me back then. And her father! He’d spent a lot on her! She was the valedictorian in my sect, remember Sister V? How is any of it possible?”

“Maybe…she needs him for something…something she can’t get on her own.” Vanessa suggested.

“You mean drugs! No way!” Banks replied. He couldn’t picture Lade as a drug addict. Sting though had looked like someone who messed with drugs. He had goons.

“Or maybe, she’s paying off a debt,” Mike offered a milder suggestion. Vanessa wasn’t putting her thoughts off for that. “Does she have marks on her arms?” She asked Banks.

Banks sighed in exasperation. “Just because I said a mean ugly man came in and asked her if I paid for her time, you already think she’s a junkie?” Banks asked. However, the more he thought about it, the closer its plausibility loomed. Was Lade a junkie? She smoked cigarettes. Was that why…?

Vanessa looked to Mike for support. “It’s possible,” said Mike. “Most hookers are drug users, usually mere Indian hemp. Most times heroin too. Still there are lots of other addictive drugs.”

Banks preferred to remain adamant. “I don’t think she is a hooker. I don’t think she is a junkie. There’s got to be some other explanation.”

“Sure…maybe…but she don’t owe you one unless you pay for her company.” Mike said. “Mingling with such crowds…” he shook his head but didn’t continue. From the daggers Banks’ eyes threw at him, he figured he’d said enough.

“Sure, he knows it is dangerous,” Vanessa reiterated.

Banks chuckled out loud all of a sudden. “Of course I know how dangerous it is,” he said. “It’s just…the more I try to push her out of my mind, the more she sticks. “I need…I need some closure. I can’t pretend she was never my friend.”

“That’s a hasty decision. Peter…”

“Relax Sister V, I’m not going to sleep with her. I just want to talk. I need to know what happened…what is happening. I owe her that at least.” Banks refilled his tumbler.

“What if she’s not the person you used to know? What will you do then?” Mike asked.

Banks paused, his tumbler on its way to his lips and a fat, spicy cookie in the other hand. He shrugged at the both of them. “That would be very unfortunate, wouldn’t it?” He turned to exit the kitchen.

Again, Vanessa and Mike exchanged glances. They were obviously appalled at his circumstance. They also trusted him to do the right thing.

***

She watched TWELVE YEARS A SLAVE on her DVD. She sat at her favorite TV-watching position – on the floor with her back leaning on the bed frame cushioned by a pillow. A bottle of GUINESS BIG STOUT was standing on a linoleum-covered floor beside her. The light from the TV flickered in the dark room. The volume of the movie was quite loud, but the only other sound was the ceiling fan clicking at each turn. Lade’s attentive eyes were glued to the screen. Just then, her cell phone rang from the dressing table where it was.

Lade picked the remote controller and paused the movie playing. She got to her feet brushing her bum shorts which showed off her smooth chocolate thighs and slender calves. She had a toe ring on today. She was tipsy. She kicked the beer bottle by mistake. The bottle fell and spilled some contents before she hastily bent to pick it up. She sighed. She was always spilling things on the floor. She picked up the bottle and took it to the dressing table with her to pick up the ringing phone which was beside her little coke tray. She frowned at the unknown caller identity but answered the call.

“Who is this?” She began.

Banks in that moment was on the edge of his bed holding his cell phone to his ear. He had the card on which she’d written her number for him on the other hand. “Lade, It’s Peter. Or is it, Nicky.”

She smiled languorously. “You called at last.” She said with a slight slur in her speech.

Something about her voice made him smile without saying anything funny. He resisted the urge to smile. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to call. Here I am anyway.” He said. “How are you?”

Lade went to part the curtains and push the ALMACO window open. It was past midnight. Everywhere was quiet outside, apart from some music playing from a distant night club. “I’m fine,” she said. “How are you?”

“I’m fine now,” Banks said, wondering what he meant by that. They were both silent for a while.

Lade held the phone away from her ears to belch, the moonlight on her happy face. She placed the phone back over her ears. Banks hadn’t said a word either. She wondered what he was doing. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Banks replied. “Just…thinking.”

“About what?” Lade asked.

Banks hesitated. “About the little fun I had with you, just before your friend came in.” He said.

Lade said, “I’m glad you did. I’m sorry for… the interruption.”

Banks chuckled. She called it an interruption, an ironic humour. “I’ll like to see you again, Lade. We need to…talk, catch up on things. Just like we said we would.”

It was Lade’s turn to hesitate. What good will it do them both if she rekindled their friendship. She wasn’t an innocent, harmless kid anymore. Still, he’d called her. He had understood everything that happened that night, still he'd chosen to call her.

“Lade.”

“Yes Peter, we agreed. I have a lot I think I need to tell you.” She immediately began to wish she hadn’t said that. She wondered why she thought he’d understand better, if she told him the truth from her own lips. He’d probably resent her. She almost began thinking up a quick excuse.

“Tomorrow evening. You promised me a date, remember? Let’s do tomorrow evening.”

Lade gave up trying with an inaudible sigh and a slight nod. She wanted to see him too. Maybe she could explain better. Maybe he won’t like her as he used to. Maybe he’d even pity her. Any of that was better than he judging her. “Okay, where?”

“Don’t bring your friend. The one that threatened to carve my face open. Who is that guy anyway?”

There it was. The question. She didn’t have any answer. She had long given up on preparing an answer for when Peter would ask her the Q-question. “He’s called Sting. He’s uhm… we do business sometimes, it’s not important.” It was a good thing she was on the phone. She hadn’t made ready an answer and SHE knew he knew she was lying. Her answer didn’t sound truthful even to her own ears. Sting always said she was a bad liar, and judging by the fact that Banks hadn’t said anything either, she was sure he knew.

But how could he begin to understand it? Lade had just lied to him. Should he ignore the lie or ask all the questions in his head? No, that would push her into more lies and he’d end up achieving nothing. Banks wondered if she’d lie to his face if he questioned her at their date. He decided to wait till he saw her.

“So tomorrow evening…” Lade’s voice interrupted his thoughts over the phone. “Time and place?” she asked.

“I don’t know.” Banks said sounding reluctant.

Lade’s eyes widened in alarm. Was he backing away already just because she’d lied? “What do you mean by you don’t know?”

“Yet…I mean.” He added. “How about I plan and send you a text before midday concerning a venue. Would six be okay?”

“Six is good!” She replied. “We really need to catch up.” She stressed.

“Okay, this is my phone number. I’d text you.” Banks said. “Good night Lade.”

At least it wasn’t goodbye. “Thanks Pete. Good night.” She said smiling. She ended the call and went to switch on the electric lights. She went to her dressing mirror to look closely at the plaster-covered cut on her cheek wondering if it could all look alright in eighteen hours. It wasn’t really hurting anymore, but the scar would be hard to hide under her usual make-up. She had bitten her cake and now had a chance to have it back; an opportunity to correct the first impression without lying to him. How was she going to pull that off?

Meanwhile Banks stared blankly at the fixtures in his room. He was going to see her again. He owed her the benefit of doubt even though she had lied; or so he felt.

***

Saturday was usually a busy day at the art studio. He’d do general clean up and arrange his account books, but Banks didn’t leave the house. He didn’t call Andy or Jennifer either. He lazed about his bedroom after breakfast. He went down late for lunch and watched a movie at the living room afterwards.

Mrs. Bankole and Susan had flown to Abuja earlier in the day. Only Vanessa was around and yes she noticed. Banks never spent a full day at home, a Saturday nonetheless.

Sunday arrived. Vanessa drove herself to church. Banks refused to come along with her. He was still in his room when she came home with her boyfriend Mike in the afternoon. It was all getting a bit weird to her. Banks never stayed home this long. He preferred being at the studio so much that mom had to make it a rule that he sleep in the family house every night, no matter how late he got in.

Yet here he was of his own freewill. She hadn’t heard him on the phone either. Maybe it wasn’t just her; maybe he was blocking everyone else out too and that got her even more curious. However, they now had separate busy schedules to meet such that it had been a while they really talked. It was high time. Mike had noticed too and had thought that Vanessa - being the elder - should bridge the gap and get him to open up.

First she tried calling his phone but realized it was switched off. She then knocked on the door to his bedroom and called to him, but he stone-walled her. He couldn’t have slept through all that knocking.

Banks came down for dinner and asked to be excused for a headache before it was over. He took a plate with him though. An hour later, Vanessa and Mike were in the kitchen talking when they heard him singing from the swimming pool. Vanessa decided to check on him.

Banks had stripped to his bossers and was lying on his back on a rubber float and drifting across the pool when Vanessa came out to meet him. He had a half-filled glass of scotch in one hand and was singing along to a song playing over a music box. A half-empty bottle of scotch stood on the edge of the pool. Banks was drunk by now. He chuckled when he noticed his elder sister’s arrival. She wore a pajamas and her hair was down. She had a towel in her hands and a smile on her face.

“Vanessa! Hey!” He called with his loop-sided grin. “Why don’t you strip off and join me in the pool!”

“What is this?” Vanessa asked with some concern on her voice. “A new therapy or what? What is going on with you?”

Banks laughed at the thought of therapy. He floated about a bit, thinking of something smart to say and when he couldn’t think of one, he floated towards the bottle and placed his half-empty tumbler there. Next, he rolled off the float and splashed into the pool. Vanessa gasped when Banks went straight down, and sighed in relief when he came up laughing.

“Is Mike still around? ‘Cos I don’t think I’ve heard the gates yet.”

He’s spending the night,” Vanessa said. “Come out of the water before you get cold,” came then sisterly advice.

“I am okay here,” Banks replied and swam about a bit. “Is mom home yet?” He asked after a refreshing lap.

“No, Peter. You’ve been swimming and drinking since after dinner. Is anything the matter?” Vanessa asked.

“Just a few more laps and I’ll be fine. Really, don’t worry about it.” Banks replied and resumed another lap while Vanessa watched on. She went to where the scotch bottle was and stooped to take it, taking a closer look at its label as she got back on her feet.

“Hmm! Peter! It’s been a while I saw you drink spirits.”

“Well, join the club Sister Vee, or you beat it!" a bit of malice seeping into his tone. He hated the intrusion and wished she’d finally get a clue and leave him to them. “What do you care anyway? Go inside to your boyfriend and leave me alone!” Banks said. He swam back to the tumbler and dumped the contents into his mouth and refilled it from the bottle.

“You know you can tell me anything! Peter!” But Banks wasn’t listening. Vanessa snapped. “Damn it Peter! We used to be closer than this! We used to tell each other everything!”

“Uh yeah!” Banks countered. “When was the last time you ever stopped to talk? You now take double shifts at the hospital for God-knows-why! If it’s not that, then you’re at Mike’s! You think I don’t notice!”

“And when I eventually come home to my little brother, he has a Don’t Disturb sign fixed on his door, like permanently. That is when he is not at his art studio doing what he prefers doing.”

Banks placed his tumbler on the edge of the pool and with some effort he climbed back onto the rubber float. “You want to talk to someone? Go and talk to your boyfriend! Unless he doesn’t like to talk when you’re together…he’s a soldier after all, he’s more into action, isn’t he?

Vanessa gasped in surprise. Banks saw her face fall and quickly realized he’d just insulted his elder sister.

“I’m sorry Sister Vee,” he apologized at once. “I don’t know where that came from.”

“Lemme check,” she said. “Swimming and drinking scotch. And that other thing you’re trying to freeze out. Come out of that water before you get pneumonia or something.”

Banks floated to the pool ladder rather reluctantly, but knew that he’d probably had enough. He climbed out of the pool. Vanessa handed him a towel to dry his wet body with. She took the bottle of scotch and the tumbler.

“When you’re finished, go to your room and change. Then you come down to the kitchen. Mike is baking something. We’ll share a secret with you and you’ll tell us what is eating you up, deal?” She asked.

Banks considered it. “Private Mike in an apron! That should make for an interesting sight.” Vanessa smiled at that. She’d gotten through to him at last. “Alright deal. Give me fifteen minutes to dress up.”

“Good! I’ll see you inside then,” Vanessa returned. She went back in with the bottle of scotch and glass tumbler.

***

Banks lay on his back under the sheets of his bed and stared at the ceiling above him. For the first time since it happened, he’d re-lived his father’s murder in a dream. He’d woken up with a curdling scream in his throat after relieving that terrifying moment he watched his father’s eyes had glaze over. He’d lain on the bed since then thinking of how far he’d come since then.

Yet grass-to-grace wasn’t what he felt in the pit of his stomach. It was the fear that brought it all back. Fear of being helpless to save his loved ones from vices while he watched them agonize. The kind of fear you feel when attacked by criminal elements when you least expect them. You are caught with your guard down. It was the same fear he’d felt last night for Lade.

A familiar knock interrupted his musing. He rubbed his eyes. “The door is open, mom!” He propped himself up with his elbow as the bedroom door opened. Mrs. Bankole entered carrying a steaming cup of tea on a saucer.

Mrs. Bankole was proud of her son. He had seen his opportunity to prove to everyone that there was still a man in the house and had taken it. Too many other boys wouldn’t have acted as mature as he did. And so she made sure he never lacked anything without spoiling him. Bankole Incorporated will handle all publicity and public relations for Bankole Arts. Most of his clients were roped in by her anyway.

“I thought you were still sleeping,” She said shutting the door behind her.

“Good morning, Mom,” Banks said with a smile on her face.

“Good morning son. How was your night?” Mrs. Bankole walked towards her son’s bed.

“My night was fine. Yours?”

“It was good! I brought tea?”

“Gee, thanks mom!” Banks sat up to accept the cup and saucer from his mother who sat down beside him and looked around the room. “Nothing new mom,” he said sipping the scalding tea like it was nothing. He liked it really hot.

“Vanessa made sandwiches.”

Banks wrinkled his nose. “Where is Andy?”

Mrs. Bankole frowned. “I haven’t seen him this morning. I don’t even think he came home last night. Wasn’t yesterday his girlfriend’s birthday? He must have spent the night there, then.” She said.

Banks smiled and shook his head. “I didn’t go to the party.”

“Mmm…where did you go then?” Mrs. Bankole’s full attention was on him now.

Banks sipped his tea in thoughtful silence. “Peter,” his mother called. “I’ll just buy her a present. That’s what she really wants, not my presence at her party.”

“That’s not a nice thing to say of your cousin’s friend, Peter.”

“You don’t even know her.”

“Maybe, but Andy does. And he likes her. That should be enough for us if we respect him.”
Banks sipped his tea as another bout of silence resumed. He wondered if she really meant that; if that assessment would really apply to anyone. No, she’d put her foot down about Lade if he related last night’s events to her.

“Are you thinking about last night?” Mrs. Bankole asked.

“Not really,” Banks mumbled.“You came home very late. Where did you go?”

“I went to make a run. The client said he was leaving town this morning and I was running late on this job request because of my project. The paint dried yesterday morning and I had to get my money before he left. Now, can we please switch out of this FBI mode thing already?”

“He paid you cash?” Mrs. Bankole asked.

Banks winced. “Yes,” he said and waited for the lecture. When it was slow at coming he said, “I know. It was risky. I had to get my money before he left town.”

“Are there no banks that run transfer payments where he is going? What about Mobile banking, better still come to the office for a POS! Jeez! Peter! How many times do I have to caution you against holding heavy cash at night?”

“It was just eighty grand, mom! Come on! I can handle myself!”

Mrs. Bankole looked like her heart had ceased its beating for a second when she heard the amount. “You want to kill me?” She asked quietly. “Because, I’ll just die if you die! There are a thousand and one people out there with guns who will shoot you dead just because you got a lousy five grand on you! Don’t you understand?”

Banks nodded in silence. He understood her fear. She too had watched the head of their family get gunned down by hoodlums who wanted their TV and the little cash they had at home. It hadn’t been up to five grand. Four thousand, eight hundred and sixty Naira - he never forgot that. “I understand mom. I am sorry, it won’t happen again.”

Mrs. Bankole stood from the bed. “It better not. Now breakfast is ready. I’ll give you a few minutes to freshen up, but we won’t be starting without you; and because of the weather, I’ll suggest we take it hot.”

“Hot is good, mom. I’ll be down in five minutes.”

Mrs. Bankole kissed the top of her son’s head and exited the room, shutting the door behind herself. Banks sipped his tea in silence and resumed his musing.

***

The sound of knocking on Lade’s bedroom door slowly diffused through the dense quiet in her head. It took her a few seconds to float back to consciousness from cloud nine. Lade lifted her head up a bit to view the blurry room with unfocused eyes. Her skin felt bloated and her fingertips tingled. The room slowly took its familiar shape in her mind and she found herself lying on the linoleum-covered floor with wool and plaster on her left cheek where Sting had hit her. she hadn’t made it to the bed last night. A tourniquet was still tied loose around her left arm and the empty syringe was on the floor discarded beside her. She heard Sia playing over the CD speakers. ‘…for those in need… for those who speed… for those who try to slow their minds with weed… Sunday…” Whatever it meant, but she loved the rhythm.

She heard the knock a bit clearer when it sounded again. She lifted herself to sit up. “Who is it?” She didn’t even recognize her own voice. It was as hoarse as an old woman’s. She cleared her throat.

“It’s me Cindy? Are you Okay? You don’t sound okay!”

Lade’s right eye was swollen while the other was puffed from sleep. She removed the tourniquet from her arm and got to her feet letting the rope fall to the floor. Her feet were wobbly. She stumbled and bent to grab at the bed sheets for support. The room swam in her eyes and she sat her butt down on the bed until she got her bearing back.

“Nicky, what’s taking so long? Come and open this door!” Cindy said from the other side of the door. “Are you sure you are okay?

Lade checked the time on the wall clock. EIGHT A.M. She must’ve woken up earlier that morning to get a fix. Her head hurt still.

She picked up the syringe and the tourniquet and went to put both in the last drawer of her wooden dressing table which was at a corner next to her wardrobe. She arrived at the door just as Cindy knocked the third time.

“Relax, I’m fine!” Lade slurred as she unlocked the door. Cindy opened the door from outside and saw Lade standing at the door way. She gasped when she saw the bandage on Lade’s face.

“Relatively,” Lade added and winced when she tried to smile.

“Shit, Nicky! Wetin be dis one now?” Cindy asked with some concern on her face.

Good morning NL peeps. Hope y'all slept okay.

CHAPTER THREE


Susan pressed the electric bell at the gate a second time. She looked at the CCTV camera well-hidden from sight above the wicket gate; she was the one that put it there and knew exactly where it was. She stood bare feet outside the wicket gate holding her jogging shoes and waiting for the gateman to arrive. She wore a pink sweat suit and a BEATS BY DRE headset that doesn't quite cover her ears. Her glasses never left her face; not that she needed one but It aided the persona she preferred to sell - the harmless, nerdish personal assistant to Madame Bankole.

It had rained for most of the previous night and its evidence could be seen on the wet ground and filled water-logs on the broken asphalt street behind her. Hemce, it was quite a chilly morning. The sun was still hidden behind the clouds still gathered in the sky. No real surprise there. May-June-July was all about cats-and-dogs. Susan hated rainy weather.

Susan looked at her wristwatch and sighed. She raised her hand to press the bell again when she heard running footsteps approaching. She relaxed and waited. The peep-hole was pushed open and Musa’s eyes were on her.

“Ah! Susie!” Susan heard the wicket gate unlock. Musa had an apologetic smile on his face as he held the gate open for her to enter. “Sorry, I been de pray,” he said. Susan sighed again, shook her head at him and thumped his chest as she walked past him into the compound. She could perceive the faint scent of incense on him.

“You better not burn down the security lodge with this your prayer…Madam go raise her own fire and brimstone for your body if you do.” They both chuckled. They also both knew it wasn’t a joke. He’d been warned severely by Madam not to burn anything inside his lodge. Susan wouldn’t tell, but Susan won’t be of any help to him if Madam found out.

“How far you run today?”

“Three miles…”

“Tree! Walahi Susie! Who for gree make you chase am for tree mile? Bad bad people no de run for leg, dem de carry moto go operashun. If you like run pipti mile, u no go catch any armed robber for leg. If you wan catch confirm bad man, you go meet bad man make e learn you.” Musa pulled on the collar of his sky-blue Jelabah. He alone in the household knew her real role in Madam Bankole’s organization. The same security organization hired the both of them out. “Oyibo say, ‘set a thief, make e catch a thief’.”

“Are you telling me that you are a thief, Musa?” Susan asked with a twinge of amusement.

“No!” He exclaimed in horrified realization. “Kai Susie! You de always confuse wetin I talk! No go tell madam say I talk say…”

“Don’t worry, Musa. I know you’re a bad man. Your secret is safe with me.” She slapped the back of his head in a friendly manner and turned to walk towards the house. Musa laughed and scratched his beard leering at her as she walked.

“Ah Susan! You de carry play play de beat your senior o! Na just say you be fine girl… Walahi any bad man wey touch you ehn…just point am give me. I go handle am.”

Susan laughed but didn’t reply this time. She knew if she turned around, she’ll see him staring at her backside. She overcame the impulse to swing for him a bit. She didn’t want to encourage his remarks. He was quite alone in this weather She too, and it’d been a long while since she had some. Too bad he was the gateman.

The house was some distance ahead – a one story mansion. The floor of the compound was covered with interlocking stones and had been swept by the gate man. The fountain in the middle of the compound wasn’t running any water yet. There were foldable chairs and a table at the front patio. An open garage annexed the main building where a Wrangler was parked next to a vacant parking slot with a Lincoln Aviator on its other side, which was parked next to a KIA Rio and a SIENNA.

Susan stood at five feet, seven inches, was fair complexioned and had a slim figure with all the right curves in all the right places. She had a spring on her feet which gave her a hurried pace when she walked. She had finished from Navy school and had been drafted into the secret service by a god mother who knew her to be smart and quick-witted. She’d been taken to the US with a group of other students from the Secret Service Academy. There, they had been trained to be bodyguards to elitist citizens who could afford such excellent protocol services. She had gone on to get a degree in accounting from the University of Abuja and now worked full time for Alhaja Miriam Bankole. Her hobbies included shooting guns and running. She was at the local police gun-range almost every Sunday by four AM and shot till daybreak. She had even taught her boss to load and shoot a hand gun. Madam Bankole owned a small revolver now, but she doubted either her boss’ children knew.

Susan walked around the building and got in through one of the back entrances into the kitchen. The swimming pool needed cleaning and the pool house was locked. Peter must have forgotten to call the pool boy, she thought to herself as she got in. The warm air in the kitchen was a sharp contrast to the now biting cold outside. She shivered as she closed the door behind her and turned to see Mrs. Bankole and her daughter Vanessa laughing at a joke. Mrs. Bankole was adding a few ingredients to the breakfast cooking on the electric cooker. Vanessa was perched on one of the long kitchen stools and watched her mother as she cooked. They turned their attention to Susan.

“There she is,” Mrs. Bankole said.

“Good morning madam!” She curtsied as she greeted.

“Good morning Susie, hope you had a nice run…” Vanessa greeted.

“I did, only the impending rain made me cut it out early. Good morning.” Susan replied.

“It must really be cold outside. You’re shivering.” Mrs. Bankole observed.

“Nothing a hundred push-ups and a hot bath can’t take care of,” Susan replied dismissively.

Vanessa chuckled. “Or you can take tea before your bath.” Susan was too hardcore for a nerd. Vanessa’s simple mind couldn’t reconcile her contradictory characters. It was just the way Susan was, Vanessa had summarized. When her mother had announced that she was going to employ a full time personal assistant, Vanessa had thought she would be getting a sister to play with, talk female stuff and go shopping with. Susan hadn’t filled any of those expected roles. She would have probably laughed if told that her mother’s employee had trained with the marines for eighteen months. “There is fresh hot tea in the flask and I just finished making sandwiches.” Vanessa pointed to the flask and the tray containing bread rolls.

Susan’s face brightened and her lips twitched. “Sister V’s sandwiches and tea…not a bad idea you know,” she said smiling at her boss whose attention was on her cooking. Vanessa was close to the plate racks. She gave Susan a flat plate and a tea cup. Susan took a sandwich and poured herself steaming tea from the flask. She climbed on a vacant stool next to Vanessa and settled to eat.
“Breakfast is ready, and because of this weather I’d suggest we take it hot.” Mrs. Bankole said.

“I’m good. Tea and sandwiches are enough for me… I didn’t hear Peter come in last night, and his car isn’t in the garage.” Susan said.

“He’s in his room. I wonder why he isn’t up yet. Are we having breakfast without him, mom?” Vanessa replied.

“No way! I’ve missed having breakfast with my family. I wonder how soon Susie and I will have time for another. This month’s schedule is really packed with activity. Am I right?”

“Yes madam. A lot of necessary trips,” Susan said.

“Don’t worry, I’ll go wake him,” Mrs. Bankole said. “Vanessa pour me a cup and put in three cubes of sugar in it.”

“My little brother with the diabetic tooth...” Vanessa joked.

“Don’t even joke about such things, Vanessa.” Mrs. Bankole replied with a light scowl. Vanessa filled a tea cup and handed it to her mother. “Set the table for four before I get back.” Mrs. Bankole instructed next and exited the kitchen for the main house.

I'm going back to work. The next chapter would be rolling in early tomorrow. Thanks.

PS: inasmuch as this is for ur viewing pleasure, I'm here to rack up comments and criticism not views so I'd appreciate the time taken to point out the weak spots. I might as well give up otherwise. Peace and good night.

***

Jennifer slipped off her heels and kicked them in opposite directions. She was standing in the middle of her bedroom where various shades of red and white made the suite look like a video shoot was going on. There were two windows hidden behind white, heavy damask curtains. A painting of her draped over a pool chair in her bikini set was hung on one side of the walls. It had been made by Banks a year ago and was as wide as her windows. It was the most distinct feature in the room. Her bed was close to one of the windows and was covered with pink sheets.

Jennifer walked to her dressing mirror which was attached to a dressing table with so many drawers. There was nothing on the top of her dresser and no clothing was visible in the room. The place was pristine and immaculate. She slipped off her dress and let it slide down her body to her feet. She looked at herself in her matching white lace underwear; all the while wondering what could have gone wrong. She had dressed up for him and he hadn’t even called to cancel. He didn’t even pick up when she called. Jennifer had never been stood up on date before. Not that she went on many, but at least she always had the decency to call and cancel when she didn’t feel like one.

But Banks didn’t care. Okay, he cared about certain things. After all, he had helped her research on her own project topic. He was only non-chalant when it came to her feelings. If only she didn’t have this… like… everlasting crush on him.

Jennifer took off her bra and felt the weight of her full breasts standing without sagging. She’d dreamt of a perfect date; and a perfect ending to it – at least a kiss. She’d wanted to be kissed. She’d wanted to be touched. She’d wanted to be held by the guy she loved. She felt the hot tears fill her eyes and blinked them back. She wouldn’t shed even one - not for him. He was too blind to see what she was offering. Not for her. No, that would be self-pity. She removed her hair clip and allowed her hair to fall on her shoulders. What kind of man wouldn’t notice her? What did they want in their women…smartness and independence…beauty? She knew she could go out to the club tonight and catch herself a man. Too bad she wasn’t that insecure. Maybe men were different, and Banks was so far off the tangent! It had taken him two years to agree to a date, yet he’d stood her up.

Jennifer kicked her legs out of the dress. She picked the dress up and went into the wardrobe closet. She took out a fresh towel from among a small pile and wrapped herself in it. She opened a drawer and took out a fresh pair of panties from the top of a neat pile, then walked out and into an adjourning bathroom. A knock on the door stopped her. She heard Chika and Andy talking in low tones on the other side of the door but couldn’t make out what they were saying.

“Jennifer,” Chika called.

Jennifer steeled her voice to make sure it didn’t quiver. “Go away!” She replied. “I’ll like to be alone! I’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

“Are you sure? We could play a video game…or something fun…together,” Chika said from the other side of the door. Jennifer could hear Andy talking in low tones.

“No thanks! I’m going to go have my bath now! I’m fine really! Good night! Good night Andy!” Jennifer walked into the bathroom looking distraught. She shut the door after her and leaned on it, blinking back her tears. How could everyone be so heartless?

***

Lade’s gaze fell on him as he walked in. This time it wasn’t a warm, fuzzy feeling in her taut belly, rather a numbing cold that chilled its way out of her very bones on to her skin surface. Goose bumps suddenly appeared on her neck. Of course Banks noticed. He followed her gaze and saw the tall, muscular guy standing at the entrance. Banks could tell she was frightened.

Sting spotted both of them at the counter. The both of them had seen him, and the look on Lade’s face gave him even more confidence.

What’s wrong? Is that your boyfriend?” Banks queried. The ugly man was coming straight at them.

Lade gasped in surprise at Banks' supposition. “Believe me. He’s anything but my boyfriend. Listen, if he asks, say you just met me and bought me a drink.” Lade said in a low tone.

Banks remained baffled. However, he didn’t have time to satisfy his curiosity. A quick glance told him that he and Lade were the center of everyone’s attention. Whoever the tall ugly man was, most of the people here knew him.

One of the bar customers sitting right next to Banks and Lade vacated his stool when Sting arrived. Sting pulled the stool closer and joined them. “Nicky, wetin you de do?” He asked. He looked even more intimidating now that he was here. At first, Banks couldn’t take his eye off the knife scar on his right cheek. Nicky, the same name Jerry had called her. Banks was puzzled.

“You talk say make I come Rosa place…” Lade was saying.

“And do what! Drink beer with strangers? Is he even a customer?” Sting’s voice was up a notch. Sting turned to stare at Banks.

Lade’s shoulders shrank in embarrassment. She should have known better than to mix business and pleasure. Better still she should have exchanged contacts with the guy and hurried him along. She was supposed to be working. If only he wasn’t the boy that she would’ve gladly fallen in love with and... And yet, this was what it had led to. She felt naked under Banks’ quizzing gaze. She was supposed to be working.

“Who are you and what do you want?” Sting asked Banks. He’d put on a menace on his face. Lade interjected. “Sting be nice to him. We met outside and he thought we should have a drink first.”

Sting frowned at Banks who was confused, but nodded in agreement. “Has he paid?” Sting asked Lade.

Lade looked down at her lap to hide the embarrassed tears in her eyes. She blinked them back as fast as she could. “Yes he has. You could have waited till later to get the cash as usual.” She said.

“How much?” Sting growled.

“The usual… Come on, Sting this is really unnecessary.” She answered, getting a little bolder in her exasperation. Sting’s eyes widened a bit. He banged the counter angrily. “You’re growing some nerve girl! Show me the goddamn money!” Sting barked.

No one else in the bar moved a muscle. It was obviously a typical Sting taking-care-of-business-as-usual and you were better off not getting involved. Mandy’s men in the bar knew Sting’s ferocity. Everyone was on guard. The rest just fell in line. It was an eye opener too for them all who’d noticed Lade before. No wonder she was alone and looking available for whoever was interested. She was one of Sting’s women. Her face was memorized.

Banks’ too, but he wasn’t conscious of anything else yet. He was still trying to wrap his head around the drama unfolding before his eyes. “What are you mad about?” He asked Sting. Lade’s fright was communicable, but he had put his scattered nerves together. “Just take it easy! We can sort anything out, can’t we?”

Sting turned even redder at Banks’ comments. The designer boy was actually talking! He returned his angry glare at Lade.

“Peter, stay out of this! Please!” Lade said to Banks. She opened her purse and took out all the money which she gave to Sting, her hands shaking with nervous embarrassment. Banks stared on dumbfounded as Sting took the money from Lade to count it.

There was at least ten grand in the wad of cash Lade had given him. He looked up at designer boy with a scowl on his face after counting the money. “Peter huh?” Sting began, smiling cynically. “So you bought yourself a piece of flesh for the night and thought of getting drunk first…somehow I find it hard to believe…”

Banks looked at Lade in shock as some clarity began to diffuse through his puzzled mind. Piece of flesh for the night! Lade wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“…It sounds to me like Nicky’s cock-and-bull…you don’t look like a customer to me…no… more like…I don’t know…like you’re looking for some free love for the night.” Sting chuckled at his own assessment.

Banks felt he needed to say something. He didn’t know what was going on, or what Lade was into these days. Hell! It’d been eight years since he saw her last. That was enough time for a devil to turn into a priest…and vice-versa. Lade looked like she was in a lot of trouble; the least he could do was to defend Lade regardless of whatever aboki shit he’d just stepped on, extricate himself and then…

“Look man,” he began. “I don’t want any trouble. It is as she says. I gave her the money…then…thought we should get acquainted first…if that is a problem, then I think I’ll need a refund.” Lade cringed in shame to hear Banks defend her. If he did, then he understood already. What had she been thinking? No, she hadn’t been thinking.

Sting laughed. “A refund! Wow! You get mind! How do I say this in Queens English for you, Peter…?” He put the money in his pocket and wiped the smile from his face as he did. “Walk the Bleep out now before I decide to carve your face open with my knife,” he said, all mirth gone from his voice.

Banks fist folded and his eyes narrowed as his own anger slowly boiled to the surface. What gave this ugly man the right to exercise such authority over a person – a beautiful person. His beautiful person. Okay, that was long ago but still…he half-stood glaring at Sting. It was Lade who stopped him from acting out his first impulse, which was to break his Heinekeen bottle over the man’s head and whisk Lade out of there forever. “Please go now,” she said leaning forward to whisper. “Please…don’t make a scene. Go!” She was actually begging him to leave. Banks gave her an incredulous look.

“If I were you I’ll listen to her,” Sting said. “I like your shirt. I’ll hate to stain it with your blood. Moreover, you’re alone here.”

Banks looked around and saw that everyone in the room was watching him. Including Lade. He saw her eyes water and his heart skipped a beat. “Just go...” she mouthed through trembling lips. Banks nodded and got to his feet. He walked slowly to the exit where he stopped and turned in time to see Sting towering over Lade menacingly, saying things he couldn’t hear.

“Be like say you wan make person carry you commot here, abi?” Banks turned to the speaker. Kunle was standing with two other hefty men who looked like they killed for a living. Kunle raised the hem of his shirt and showed Banks the pistol half-hanging out of his trouser at his waist. Okay, maybe they did. Anyway, he wasn’t sticking around to find out.

The fresh air outside hit him as he exited the bar. It was going to be a long walk to get to where he'd find a taxi at all this time of the night. Andy was too busy to pick him up. Vanessa would be at her night shift by now, and he didn’t have the strength to smile at Jennifer and pretend he was cool. He wasn’t tonight. Not after meeting Lade and her friends. A TOYOTA TUNDRA was parked outside. The man behind the wheels was smoking a cigarette and watching him. He half-turned to notice Kunle standing at the doorway, making sure he left. For the first time in a very long while, he felt alone and weak. And so, catching caution from the wind, he walked away, hating himself as he began the long trek back to civilization.

***

HURRY UP. JEN.

Banks took a quick look at his wrist watch and quickly re-read the message from Jennifer.

“Is that your girlfriend for the month calling in a curfew?” Lade asked chuckling. She took a swig off her bottle while she watched him.

And that was it… Banks looked up at her teasing face and fell right back in love with her. She was beautiful. The kind of beauty that made your heart skip a beat at certain awkward off-guard moments. She was definitely worth putting anything off for at least another thirty minutes.

Lade couldn’t rein in her chuckle as it turned to a full throaty laugh. They hadn’t been together more than an hour and he’d already resumed his signature silent stares at her face. Almost like he was memorizing her eyes or her nose or her lips, or whatever it was that fascinated him about her face. She shivered in secret excitement. She never let on the effect Banks had on her. He never knew. He probably never would.

“It’s my friend, Jennifer. She is my colleague at the art school I was telling you about. We were supposed to go to the birthday party together.” Banks explained.

Lade frowned in realization. “Oh! Oya come and go! Don’t stand the poor girl up. I’ll give you my number so you’ll call me and tell me how the date went.”

“We have a lot of catching up to do, Lade.”

“Then we’ll do it on our own date. Tonight is someone else’s. So go.”

Lade fished into her purse and retrieved a complimentary card. “You carry biro?” She asked.

Banks got one out of his front pockets and handed it to her. Lade wrote her phone number at the back of the card and handed it to him. “Take! Call me when you’re free and let’s hook up.” She gives him his pen back. Banks accepted the card wishing he didn’t have to be on his way. He looked around. The bar was filling up with guys and their women…

***

Sting’s phone buzzed when the text message entered the phone in his hand. He read it: NO MANDY. Okay good, Mandy wasn’t in the bar. Meaning the bar girl was probably not lying about other things she’d reported. Spencer was behind the wheels. “Kunle?” He asked.
“Yes! Mandy isn’t in… wait here.” He ordered. He took a revolver out of the dashboard, alighted and stuffed it in his waistband. He and Spencer had sat in the HILUX for the past ten minutes while he thought of what to do to Nicky and her new lover boy with the crew cut and designer clothes as the bar girl had described him. This was enemy territory, so he had to be careful, especially in case fresh boy rolled with Mandy. Kunle and two others had gone into the bar to scope it out. They all had pistols and an extra clip just in case. One attempt had been made on his life already and it was just day two after Johnny’s demise. It wasn’t even paranoia yet.

***

Banks heard his client lock the gate behind him and was back on the street without his bag and a hundred grand split two ways in his back pockets. He took off his beanie and folded it in his fist. He was even warier now and had cause to. The street outside the bar had filled up some more. A few more cars were parked outside and there were a few more groups of people loitering around. The bar looked like it was about to get busier. He wished he’d brought his car. He could tell getting transport out of here was going to be a miracle.

If you stand still for a minute you get noticed, Vanessa’s soldier boyfriend Mike had once told him. Banks knew how the ghetto streets ran. Back when he and his family lived in Ibadan, He’d known all the crooks on his block. Dudes that won’t think twice to mug you for far less than Banks had on him tonight. He’d even hung out with them a few times and had even gotten into fights when someone got drunk and started trouble. However, he’d been made for more than that. His art had made him grow up out of that path. He was the man of his house and even though he wasn’t the bread winner, he took on all of the weight of his load.

Banks’ father had died six years ago. He had been shot by armed robbers who’d mistaken him for a policeman. Banks had cashed in an inheritance left him by a maternal great uncle worth four million which he’d invested in his mother’s middle scale trading business. Mrs. Bankole was a wise woman. She had tripled her working capital in thirty six months and had quadrupuled her family worth in three more financial years. And so, Banks was rich investor even though he never bothered for once to go to his office at the company headquarters building in Ikeja.

His paintings sold like ice-cream in dry season due to his mother’s business connections and the fact that he was actually good. He was even considering starting up an art gallery and collecting paintings from all over West Africa – a show hall for culture and art. Painting was his first love, and he never forgot a picture he’d seen before. Faces nonetheless. Yet he’d forgotten her. He’d been so preoccupied with the new found family affluence and graduating with a first class in Fine Arts which was quite enough. There had been no more room in his mind for Lade’s face – for the face of the one that got away. For the one he’d actually had feelings for

He entered the bar hoping he hadn’t wasted much time with his client and that Lade was still in there waiting for him. The bar was a bit dark with strobe lights chasing each other over the walls and and occupied tables. He scanned the place and found Lade sitting on a long stool at the bar. She was drinking a bottle of stout and was flirting with a huge guy who was smiling down at her captivated by whatever she was telling him. It was Mr. Four eyes, who Sting had thought he'd recognized at the supermarket that morning - only he wasn't wearing his second pair. This wasn’t the Lade Banks knew. This one had the makings of a minx and Banks wondered if he liked this even better.

He is around. The thought hit her like a sucker punch. She sensed his presence and nothing in her subconscious puzzle solver could explain how that was possible. Lade turned to see Banks walking to her. They smiled at each other. “There you are!” Lade quipped. “You took your time.”

“Sorry for keeping you waiting long.” Banks said eyeing the huge bouncer.

“No problem. Jerry here was keeping me company.” Lade replied.

Banks offered Jerry a handshake. His head was bald unlike earlier that morning and his jaw and cheeks were smoothly shaved. He was all muscle and fat bones underneath his tightly fitted Abecombre and Fitch t-shirt. Banks decided he never wanted to get on the wrong side of this one.

“Hello! Good evening!” Banks greeted.

Jerry grunted in reply sizing Banks up. “You resemble person wey dey go party!” Jerry observed.

Banks smiled. “You mean my clothes! Yeah! One of my friends is throwing a birthday party right now. I’ll drop by on my way home later.”

“Nice to meet you too. Wetin be your name?”

“Call me Banks!”

“Okay! See you some other time!” Jerry replied.

“Thanks for the drink Jerry! I go call you next time I come this side!” Lade said.

“No wahala, Nicky. Make I join my guys! Enjoy!"

They hugged each other before Jerry exited. He gave Banks another quick once over as he walked towards the exit door. Banks turned to see Lade smiling at him.

“What an interesting friend you have. Big guy named Jerry.” Banks teased.

Lade smirked. “You should've said it to his face. Your new nickname is Banks? That’s even more arrogant and awful in my ears. What happened to P.B - as in Playboy?” She asked.

“P.B discovered himself and grew up. I am my father’s son. Banks is the short form of my father’s name and so I allow it.” Banks replied. “Your bottle is empty. Do you want another?” Banks signaled the bar girl.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, P.B?” She asked with a sly smile.

“Somehow, I don’t think a second bottle of stout will get you tipsy.” He replied grinning. The bartender arrived. “One big stout for my friend here, and a Heinekeen for me…”

“You got it.” The bargirl replied and left to get their order. She was one of Sting’s spies and was one of his eyes in enemy territory. She knew Nicky even though Nicky didn't know her, but didn’t recognize the boy. She thought of calling Sting. A few of Mandy’s men were around even though their boss wasn’t, and she didn’t like that Sting’s girl was getting accosted by a new face at a bar where faces were rarely new. The bar girl opened one of the refrigerators and took out their orders which she carried to them. She gave Banks a clean tumbler and a cork screw and left them to pour their drinks themselves.

Banks pulled a stool closer and climbed on it. He unscrewed their drinks and filled his glass.

“It’s been what… fifty years since I last saw you, right?” Lade asked her smile never leaving her face. She looked happy. She was oblivious of the bartender’s interest.

“I never dreamed I’d be with you at a bar drinking beer. In fact, I never dreamed I’ll see you again. Yet here we are. I’ve really missed you.”

Lade laughed. “P.B! You know exactly what a girl wants to hear. You’re smooth! But you know it never worked on me. That’s why you still think you like me.”

“Oh! No, it worked on you alright! You just had to remember you were leaving for University at the last minute and was saving yourself for your wedding night.”

Lade blushed in embarrassment, but for reasons Banks misunderstood. She wasn’t married and she definitely wasn’t a virgin. She was worse.

***

Jennifer exited the house via the back door. The loud party music was shut off when she shut the door behind her. She descended into the clean and serene backyard which was illuminated by security lights. The pool had been drained off. She was still wearing her party dress that would have made her look exquisite in the bright lights if not for the ugly frown on her face. She was holding her iPhone and was typing a text message to Banks as she walked towards the pool shade.

Banks always broke his promises to meet her. That was one thing that was consistent about him. He rarely made promises and broke each one she wrung out of him like it was nothing. He had sounded a bit more sincere this time but he was supposed to have arrived an hour ago. Even after realizing he would be running late, he hadn’t bothered to call; not even to cancel.

He’d call or arrive any moment now, she consoled herself. She scrolled through her phonebook but hesitated to call him. Maybe an SMS would do. She was anxious and didn’t want to experience the fun without him. The house was full of single guys and lots of alcohol was moving around. She had danced with only Andy and turned anyone else down and was still holding her first can of Smirnoff ice. She navigated to the CREATE MESSAGE page on her cell phone and started to type. DS PLACE IS NOT MUCH FUN WITHOUT YOU.