after they had each bathed and were ready to sleep, Omofe went to the doorway of her bedroom and said, I have made up a bed for you in Tayo and Wole’s room although as it is a bunk bed, it is not fitting for a woman such as yourself
you are welcome to sleep in my double bed, which is more spacious
it is up to you
Omofe padded barefoot over the thick carpet of her bedroom wrapped up in a creamy bath towel, her plump brown upper back and backs of her legs shone, her wig was off and her natural brown hair was short and glistened
it is up to you, she repeated over her shoulder, and when she reached her bed, with her back to Bummi, she let her towel drop
Bummi followed her into the room as if in a trance, just as she could not help but allow Omofe to explore her relaxed and warm bath body
they both had generous folds of flesh and luxurious breasts
Omofe felt like home to Bummi and her expert activities culminated in the most intense pleasure
as their activities progressed, she also found pleasure in reciprocating, as her mouth travelled wherever it wanted to go until Omofe cried out
Bummi stayed over at Omofe’s as often as she could
she admitted to herself she had been hungry for a long time, had ignored it because she would never consider taking on another husband
to replace someone irreplaceable was impossible
this was different, Omofe was a woman
Tayo and Wole returned from Nigeria after several years, transformed into civilized teenagers who were angry with their father for only visiting them twice and at their mother for her betrayal
although the two women carried on their communion at Bummi’s flat, it was strange being with Omofe in the bedroom she had once shared with Augustine, and in the flat she shared with her daughter, the daughter she could never tell of this unmentionable thing that she did
the shame she had tried to suppress began walking towards her
she did not want to be that sort of person
it was not who she was
Bummi could no longer relax enough to enjoy herself, she turned over and went to sleep, stopped responding to Omofe’s increasingly tentative touches
tell me, what can I do to please you, Bummi? I will correct my actions accordingly
Bummi did not know what to suggest when the problem lay not with Omofe
she stopped inviting her friend to come and stay, and when Omofe invited herself, Bummi declined
she also stopped taking the same shifts as her, stopped going shopping with her in the market, and started to avoid her in church
Omofe, tired of asking Bummi what was wrong without getting an answer, cut herself off from her and eventually left to work for another cleaning company
later she appeared at church with Sister Moto – of all people
Sister Moto had been a plus-size model and liked herself too much, she wore traditional dress and posed as if she was the Queen of Peckham
she had her own hairdressers’ shop on the high road, her old catalogue photographs were plastered all over its walls, and she referred to it as the Nigerian Ladies’ Community Centre, South East London Chapter
which Bummi thought arrogant and preposterous
Sister Moto raised either suspicion or pity because she had never had a boyfriend to anyone’s knowledge, or got engaged, married, had affairs with other women’s husbands or even flirted with the men who wanted her
and most of them did
Bummi made sure to sit behind the two women
Sister Moto with her back characteristically straight and proud, her light green bubu flattering her lighter skin
Omofe, in contrast, was shorter, darker, with pleasantly rounded shoulders and attractively fleshy arms Bummi wanted to reach out and stroke, as well as her thick, dimpled thighs and her ample, delectable hips
with the stretchmarks Bummi thought looked like art and felt like Braille
Bummi noticed how the two women sat silently as the church filled up, as if they were not acquainted
yet there was something intimate between them, she wondered if others had thought the same when she and Omofe had sat together
when everybody stood to sing, she noticed their bodies instinctively lean towards each other
Bummi was surprised at how quickly Omofe had moved on
she was surprised at how upset she felt about this.
5
Kofi
was another cleaner on her payroll, a retired Ghanaian tailor who wanted to supplement his pension
he was also older than most of her staff, yet he worked harder and never complained
he had one deceased wife, five adult children, many grandchildren and a three-bedroom house in Herne Hill that he rented from the council for years, before they allowed him to buy it
he was also holding on to the remnants of bushy grey hair above his ears and on the crown of his head
she wanted to tell him to shave it off
he was bald, he should accept it
Kofi
invited her to a ‘Ghanaian fusion music night’ in a bar in a cinema called the Ritzy in Brixton
other than church, this was her first time listening to live music in England
she did n0t like the sound of the group who had a singer, drummer and guitarist, but she liked the mood lighting and the small-small tables where she and he could eat snacks, drink lemonade (for her), lager (for him) privately
the other people were scruffy bohemian types who had not bothered to dress up
she noticed all the races were mixing willy-nilly and two gay gentlemen were holding hands, and nobody seemed to mind, strangely
Kofi looked at ease in this peculiar environment, he tapped his feet to the music, nodded and grinned back at strangers, in spite of the fact that his grey suit and tie was as out of place as her bright orange traditional dress and head-tie
she liked the way Kofi looked at her across the table, as if she was the most beautiful woman in the world
he asked her about her life, she just shrugged, what was there to say?
a daughter, a business, a deceased husband
when you are ready to talk, I am here to listen, he said
he invited her to attend his Pentecostal church – she refused
he invited her to watch his grandson play in a school football match – she accepted
he invited her to his youngest daughter’s wedding – it was too soon
he invited her to a meal in his home, which she accepted, and enjoyed his palm-nut soup, fermented corn dough balls, lamb chops and cabbage
she liked the fact that this was a man who could cook
further, a man who wanted to cook for her
Kofi implied, after a respectable period of courtship, that he’d like to enjoy relations with her in his bed, which meant she had to decide if they were going to be more than friends and if so, what she was doing with a Ghana man?
she asked herself if it was what she wanted
she came to the conclusion it was what was offered
Carole met him and said, he’s a keeper, Mama, don’t you think it’s about time you removed your wedding ring?
it took fifteen minutes to free herself, with washing-up liquid
he invited her on holiday to his timeshare apartment on Gran Canaria, I will sleep on the sofa, he said, you can take the bed
every morning she sat on the top floor balcony with a view of sandy, rippled roofs, and looked down on to the swimming pool where Kofi did forty laps surrounded by the kind of palm trees she recognized from home
Bummi tried cocktails for the first time and liked them, especially Margaritas, which felt like a soft drink until she realized she was giggling like a girl
they walked along the promenade in the evenings, arm in arm, under the parade of palm trees with the sea lapping the black rocks
she told him the story of her early life – the water and oil of the Delta, the water and timber of the lagoon
Kofi offered to escort her back to Opolo, to visit her people, she could not face it, she said, the situation had not improved there, it had worsened, whichever relatives remained were unknown to her