Chapter Fifteen

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A soft almost inaudible knock; the soft click of the door as it opens; the sound of muffled footsteps.. I take in all the sounds without really paying attention to them.

It's Kudirat again. She's here to pack away the remnants of my evening meal which she brought about half an hour ago. I tried my best,at least I think so but judging by the downward curl of her lips, she's not pleased. All that effort, she probably thinks,wasted.

"Do you need anything else?" She asks, her shoulders set in a rigid line, her voice as frigid as rainwater.

" I'm okay, thank you."

She begins worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, looking everywhere but at me. There's something on her mind that she wants to say and she's hesitant. Maybe all that coolness earlier was not irritation but nervousness.

Then just I'm about to ask what the matter is, she blurts out a message. At first I tell myself that I did not hear her correctly.

She repeats herself, her fingers curled defensively around the food tray, as if she's expecting me to attack her.

" Your mother is here. She's..er.. she's spending the night."

1

It was just a two weeks holiday and everyday sped by like a freight train. Most of our time was spent in the market. If it hadn't been for the fact that Suleiman ( he started helping out there some weeks after his arrival) and Abiola were such lively companions, I probably would have lost my mind for Iman had sought refuge in her shell. She wouldn't speak unless she was spoken to and even then,in a taciturn manner.

She was mostly silent, her eyes far away in deep thought. I was always on eggshells around her, careful not to say even the least provoking thing. She generally ignored us.

There was a time though, that I caught her having an obviously intense discussion with Suleiman.

It was a weekend and we were at home. Feeling bored and heavy ( we'd had a big breakfast) I decided to walk it out in the backyard and afterwards reward myself with an orange from the tree if I could get myself to pluck it.

I started from the backdoor, crawling inch by inch like a pregnant snail ( they do get pregnant, right?) and made my way around the yard, moving towards the boys' quarter.

I turned the corner to the back of the building and stopped short, feeling quite put out by the sight I'd stumbled upon. Iman and Suleiman were standing barely inches apart, his hand on her shoulder. She was saying something in a furious whisper, her eyes glinting with tears. It looked far too intimate for my liking; a cruel finger of envy twisted my insides.

Their heads whipped around to me on registering my presence and like on a reflex, they shifted apart.

" Layla", the cousin spoke up, giving me a smile that did not reach his lips, talk more his eyes, " are you looking for something?"

My gaze fell on Iman who was furiously batting her eyelids in an unsuccessful attempt to keep her tears at bay. There was no point really, I'd seen it already.

" Are you alright?"

She forced her face to relax into a smile, it came out looking like a grimace.

"Yeah."

And all I could think was liar,liar,liar!

2

I couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that clung to me like a second skin. Their explanation was not satisfactory. In fact, later on, I could hardly remember what it was they had said.

So,left with no other option and itching to know the truth, I decided to carry out my own investigation.

I started by searching through her things when I could. Her clothes in the wardrobe,neatly arranged so that you could see all the contents of the space without having to dump out stuff -the polar opposite of mine; her books,bags and virtually everything she owned.. except for her phone.

I waited. Getting to that device would require an amount of work and no little amount of cunning. She was hardly without it and the few times she wasn't, I discovered the phone was passworded.

The universe however seemed to be on my side also itching as much as me for this mystery to be solved. The mystery that no one else in my family was bothered about because to them, Iman was just being Iman. The mystery that Suleiman had something to do with.

Opportunity presented itself in the form of a phone call. Iman had only gotten into the shower minutes before her phone began ringing. The sound was drowned out by the rush of water in the toilet. I checked the caller id; A.J .

Holding my breath and willing my nervousness out of my voice, I picked the call.

"Hello?" I whispered into the phone.

" Finally the queen deems to respond" a deep voice purred from the other end.

My heart beat wildly inside my ribcage, my thoughts jumbled inside my head. The disembodied voice continued, still using the seductive tone but there was an undercurrent of anger weaved through it.

" Are you going to tell me what's up or do I have to coax it from you? I'm sure you've been receiving and reading my messages, yet you haven't bothered responding... Iman?"

I coughed to indicate I was listening lest I talk and he discovered it was someone else. Satisfied,he went on;

" This not a topic to be discussed over the phone but your recent behaviour leaves me no choice, so, here goes. Is it something I did? Someone else?"

These questions had me reeling for a moment. I gripped the phone tightly and forgot to breathe. Was he the cause of all her moodiness and gloominess of late? Who was he by the way? I wondered even though deep down, I already had an idea. Then, like he knew what I was thinking, his next question confirmed it:

" Do you want to break up, Iman?"

And without meaning to, I thought of Suleiman, the intimate way they'd been standing, that knowing look that had passed between them, the friendship that had bloomed out of nowhere and felt dread rip through me.

What's going on Iman?