thank you, sah, she said, curtsying, humble, God don butta my bread
she walked home, filled her bath with salts, lay in it for hours, topping it up at regular intervals, trying to sweat him out of her
she would never tell anyone how low she had gone to elevate herself and her daughter
every time she closed her eyes, she could feel his hot, voracious, harsh tongue licking her ears, his lips telling her she was his dutty whore, his fat cheeks against her, his big hands squeezing her buttocks, his huge stomach pushing against hers
as he speared the most sacred part of her body.
4
As Chief Executive of BW Cleaning Services International Plc, Bummi advertised in the spendthrift people’s supermarket, lined up a couple of cleaners and clients, domestic and business, only to quickly discover that they could all let her down at the last minute
this was not going to be a walk in the park, but life was not a walk in the park, abi? there was only one person to be relied upon, herself
she would start small and grow big, and allowed Sister Flora from church, who could not have children herself and wanted them, to look after Carole when necessary, and sent herself out on jobs
her first client was a lady called Penelope Halifax
who lived in one of those big houses in Camberwell with attic rooms for the servants of olden times
these days all these people could afford was a weekly cleaner
when Bummi walked into the house with stained-glass windows on the front door, old-fashioned tiles on the hallway floor, high ceilings, large windows and many flights of stairs winding up, she realized how small her world had been thus far in England
nobody she knew lived like this, not even her Nigerian friends from church who owned their own homes
did not live like this
Penelope was tall, a retired schoolteacher who was quite pleasant-looking with the kind of dyed hair that’s neither blonde, grey nor white
she wore ill-fitting clothes to hide her substantial womanliness
Bummi never understood why English women did not show off the outline of their fulsomeness, the more fulsome the better, so long as it was done with decorum
in her culture a substantial woman was a desirable one
Penelope had been a schoolteacher at Carole’s school, Bummi noticed a framed farewell card in the hallway
she wanted to mention this to Penelope, to develop a friendly working relationship with her client because if people like you they are more likely to keep employing you
but the lady told her, you’re here to work, not to indulge in social discourse, she then instructed her never to open any drawers, cupboards or wardrobes
or go into pockets or bags
Bummi wanted to bite the woman’s head off, but bit her tongue instead
Penelope soon broke her own rule and talked non-stop to Bummi as she followed her around the house moaning about her awful first husband, Giles, an engineer, who was a sexist twat stuck in the dark ages, she said, and her godawful second husband, Phillip, a psychologist, who she discovered was a flea-bitten dog who chased any mangy, randy tart behind her back
Bummi thought the woman was sophisticated on the outside, uncouth on the inside
yet she was also obviously lonely, her children had long ago left home
Bummi felt sorry for her and every week discreetly cleared away the large supply of empty wine bottles left by the kitchen bin
once she had several regular clients, Bummi started to recruit staff and produced a job description to show applicants she was serious
1/ highly skilled in cleaning and emptying waste containers and eliminating debris from designated areas
2/ good knowledge of tools and chemicals in cleaning process
3/ safe use of detergents and chemicals, good ability at vacuuming, proven record of sweeping, hand dusting, buffing and wiping
4/ demonstrated ability of sterilization of water coolers
5/ competency in dusting lighting fixtures and polishing metal hardware
6/ complete dedication to accuracy and attention to detail
7/ knowledge of the importance of protective clothing and self-care
she soon had four Nigerians, two Polish and one Pakistani on her books
who went through a training programme on the job to meet her professional standards
she went to an evening class at the library to familiarize herself with computers and the internet, and found an accountant because she did not want to end up in Holloway Prison for tax avoidance
by the time Carole began her banking career in the City, Bummi had a staff of ten
one of them, Sister Omofe from church, was the most pleasant and diligent worker of them all
her husband, Jimoh, had taken a second wife back in Port Harcourt where he ran his mobile phone business and left her to raise their two sons, Tayo and Wole, alone
the two women became fast-fast friends as they mopped floors and polished desks
you see that man? Omofe said, I hope his snake gets diseased, shrivels up and poisons him from the inside
I think you did not marry him to become wife Number One? Bummi replied
I did not, I am a modern woman and I will put rat poison in his stew next time he comes to Britain, expects to stay with me, and as soon as he has dropped his bags and eaten my food, goes out drinking Guinness in those nightclubs filled with young girls wearing next to no clothes
Sister Omofe, I have seen them with my own eyes on the tube-train late on Friday and Saturday night when I am going to work and they are going to party, the young girls in this country dress like prostitutes
that is because they are, Sister Bummi, they have no self-respect, just like my two sons have no self-respect, they are running wild without their father to discipline them, they are making merry hell, only yesterday I had the police bobbies at my door saying my boys were suspects in the robbery of a woman on the top of the bus along with the other hooligans on the way home from school, did I not tell them to sit at the bottom of the bus with the law-abiding people?
when I hit them, my hands bounce off
when I threaten them with curfew, they break it
and when I hid their computers in my bedroom, they kicked down the door
they will either end up dead in a hoodie gangland shootout, or locked up, and I will spend the rest of my life either visiting their graves or visiting them once a week in the clink
is this my fate?
Sister Omofe, send them home to Nigeria, is that not the tried and tested solution?
you are a woman of solutions, Sister Bummi, Omofe replied, taking Bummi’s hand, squeezing it
a few months later, Omofe told her sons they were going on holiday to Nigeria and upon arrival they were driven to a strict boarding school in Abuja, paid for with a loan from the bank
now I too am alone, Omofe said to Bummi after they had left, as the two women sat on an expensive red leather sofa in an empty office reception room in an empty office building that was many storeys high, on an empty city street at three o’clock in the morning
eating the chicken, rice and salad Bummi had prepared
Bummi looked forward to seeing Omofe at work and at church, where they sat together, she began to miss her when they were apart, found herself longing to touch her new friend in ways that were not acceptable
she imagined them lying together as man and wife
and instead of it feeling bad, it felt right
Omofe invited Bummi to sleep at her flat in a tower block in New Cross one morning when they had finished work and were about to board the bus home
their feet were sore, their eyes sleepy and bloodshot, their armpits sweaty
the bus arrived and after the hordes of office workers, smelling of strong perfume and cologne, shampoo, coffee and even toothpaste had disembarked, they climbed on and sat comfortably pressed up together on the seat
Bummi felt tingles down the side of her body that blended into Omofe
my home is an empty nest, Omofe said, we can be company for each other