Chapter 38

We both went silent after a long drive. I knew he was now worried, and perhaps, waiting for me to ask him to stop before one hotel or the other, or, maybe I should make it clear that I merely wanted a drive around the city of Abidjan without branching anywhere, but if that was his thoughts, then, he was wrong.

"Music, if you have any." I broke the silence, but he wasn't ready to say something, he was probably bored of driving around without a destination.

I watched him turn on the stereo. It was connected to his phone's Bluetooth, so, he had to do the little job of tapping into his music app to choose a song. He did all that in a hurry, and boom, it came, Pas Sans Toi by Lara Fabian.

I rested my head on the headrest. He seemed to have read my mind. That piece was Julia's best. She would always talk of Lara Fabian, her favorite Belgian musician. I looked out of the window. Two things weren't far from me at that moment; Julia's place and the hotel I loved to lodge in whenever I had a mission to embark on, but Julia's place was closer.

"That way," I ordered.

It was abrupt, but he followed the direction I gave. The lane that lead to Julia's. The song ended, and the next one, the sort played by Dad and Mom when their friends came by to share a bottle of wine with them. the piece by Petula Clar, Petite Fleur.

I wished I had been home all the while. I could have sat in the far garden from where I watched them dance and look each other in the eyes like young lovers do in the old cinema movies. I thought of asking Mathew to reverse and take me to my parent's place which was far from here, but I swallowed the urge and remained silent, so, I wouldn't be the one to make him sulk while he did his job.

It took us just a few minutes to get to Julia's place. Maybe that would be the perfect place to pass the day and rest my head when the night came. That was a good thought, but the thing was, the last time I visited her place, I was told she traveled to France on an unplanned tour.

At that time, it was quite laughable how people ran to France to rest their heads, but that was until the riot by some immigrants who France had offered asylum and taken into their chests. She should be home, but if not, then, the hotel would be my next choice, and Mathew, he wouldn't help it if it would be so.

"Honk at that gate," I ordered Mathew. The gate was open wide, but I wanted him to honk before pulling into the compound, to first announce our presence before any other thing followed suit.

He honked twice, and two men in security outfits, armed with outdated guns appeared from the corners of the gate. One was too old to hold the office of a security officer, and the other was young and strong.

The younger one came to my car and bent by the driver's window.

"Puis-je savoir qui tu es et ce que tu cherches." He said as soon as Mathew wined down the glass.

"Je suis le chauffeur de Sita Kouassi." Came Mathew in response. That was the dumb response. He should have added something else to his words, aside from identifying himself as my driver.

"Que cherchez-vous?" the man's voice grew stern.

"Nous cherchons votre madame, c'est mon amie." I said from behind, loud enough for him to hear. He scurried towards my window, and I did him the good of wining down the glass.

On seeing me, his brows went up in surprise and his face broke into a sudden smile. maybe he knew my face but just didn't know my name. By the way, I'm not as popular as a politician should be, rather, many people know me for my career as a philanthropist. A loud one in both offline and online space.

"You can pass." He said in English. His smile was the warm one of a guard who wanted to be in the good book of rich visitors.

Mathew pulled into the compound, and once at the parking lot, he turned off the car and the music, and he sighed a sigh of relief from a few hours of driving to and fro in Abidjan.

"Is she home?" I asked the young guard on alighting from my car.

"Yes, she's been home." He replied.

I raised a brow. Julia had been home and she never bothered to call me or drop by at my place. Maybe she was just super busy. We were no longer sixteen by the way.

"Okay, I'll meet her inside." I smiled and took off.

Julia's house was big; bigger than mine. She inherited it from her father who married many wives, and had many sons, but yet, willed his biggest mansion to Julia, his favorite and only daughter.

I made for the door. it was a heavy metal door, the sort fit to guard a walkway to a money vault starched with cash. I knocked once and it was opened from the inside. Julia had a lot of maids, and she was so stuck in the twentieth century, maybe because she loves living in the past rather than being in the present.

"Good morning." I greeted before the maid who opened the door could say a word. She nodded with a smile on her beautiful face.

"Come in." she ushered me into the mansion, and to the hall where visitors were meant to wait when they visit. On a normal day, far from five years ago, I could have walked up to her room upstairs and had her come down to the hall with me, but not these days. Julia might have a man in her bed, so, I shouldn't be the disgusting bug of the moment for whatever reason.

"Tell your madam that her friend, Sita Kouassi is here," I said and sat on a sofa, crossed my legs, and sighed. The long drive wasn't stressful and boring for Mathew alone. It was the same for me.