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Hidden Currents (Lagos Romance Series) Page 10


  So she worked, and worked, and worked some more. She took a lot of pictures. That was the only thing that helped her not to think, and not to think of Eddie.

  The day of the awards finally came. It was a Saturday evening. Sophie had cajoled Ada into a shopping trip for new outfits, during which they scoured the boutiques of Allen Avenue for a whole afternoon. Ada finally decided on a black gown, it was short with tiny sleeves, a subtly shimmering texture and a daring neckline. It wasn’t too fussy, and set off her complexion really well.

  She arrived early at the Radisson Blu, where the event was taking place, so she was able to park without much problem. She was inwardly glad that the organizers had chosen the new hotel as the venue, instead of one of the others where parking was always a problem.

  There were many people milling about the car park and the entrance. She didn’t see anybody she knew. At the lobby, there were ushers to show her the way to the banquet hall and to their table.

  Fadeke was already at the table, eyes shining with excitement, as was Clive, Oliver, and a nice looking girl seated next to Oliver, who appeared to be his date. They waved her over as soon as they saw her. As she walked to the table, she admired the hall. It was large and spacious, and the decorations were superb. Even inside, there was the sound of running water that seemed to be everywhere in the hotel, it was relaxing.

  There were already several people inside the hall, and conversations were going on, lending a buzz to the atmosphere. Sophie and Michael arrived just as the MC took the mike to start the event. They were holding hands, like newlyweds, their faces full of smiles. Lola couldn’t come. She had to travel to Ibadan to see her parents.

  They hugged and greeted each other as the MC talked, chatting and whispering amongst themselves. Michael was charming, and Ada could see the pride and love shining out of Sophie’s face as she watched him converse without reservation with everyone on the table.

  Ada’s eyes kept going to the empty seat on the table. Would Eddie come? She had been fretting about it all week. She dared not ask Sophie. The seat was right beside her, so if he came, he would be seated right next to her.

  At one point Sophie became aware of her distress. She totally misinterpreted it. “Don’t worry, he’s going to come.” She whispered to Ada. “He’s just running a little late.”

  She nodded, suddenly sick with tension, or fright. She couldn’t pay attention to the conversations going on around her. It took immense self-control for her not to crane her neck towards the door. She was excited, she was frightened, she was a mess!

  A comedian came on stage and started to crack some jokes. They were funny, but Ada couldn’t laugh. She tried to distract herself by identifying the powerful and the famous in the crowd. There were some ministers, she noted, a governor even and a scattering of Nollywood actors and actresses. I should be taking pictures, she thought, then I wouldn’t feel so nervous. Sophie had been determined that they should all enjoy themselves so she hired a freelance photographer, to be the Living Lagos press for the day.

  Ada felt it when he arrived. All the hairs on her arms and neck rose as he slid unannounced into the seat beside her. She didn’t dare to look up, she stifled the urge to get up and bolt from the room, to devour him with her eyes, to take hold of his hand and hold on tight. She had never been so confused. Her emotions had never been in such turmoil. She studied her sweating fingers while the cool fragrance of his cologne washed over her.

  Greetings were being exchanged around the table. Her ears drank in the sound of his voice as he spoke to the others. How she had missed that voice! She knew she should look up, say hello to him, but she couldn’t. Now everyone would think she was an imbecile, she thought deploringly. She took a deep breath.

  “Hello Ada.” His words were almost a whisper, right by her ear. She swallowed, her heart was palpitating, she turned to look at him, her eyes greedily devouring the sight of his perfect face, his beautiful eyes, those lips, right in front of her. How could she have gone for so long without seeing him?

  “Hello Eddie.” She whispered.

  He smiled at her, a small smile, and then he turned away towards the podium.

  That was it! Just ‘Hello’? Ada couldn’t believe it. Wasn’t he going to say anything else to her? She trained her eyes on the podium too, uncomfortably aware of him, so close and yet so far away.

  From the corner of her eye, she stole glances at him, but he never turned towards her. It was excruciating. Everybody else seemed to be enjoying themselves but she couldn’t hear anything. How could he sit so silently beside her, as if she was a stranger? And not just any stranger, but one he had no interest in whatsoever. Talk to me, she thought desperately, please talk to me.

  Nobody else at the table noticed her state of distress. They were too engrossed in the program, clapping as the nominations were called, laughing when someone said another joke. She wondered if she could take it. Maybe she should just go home.

  Soon it was time for their category. Ada saw Eddie lean forward as they waited to hear the winner. It was Living Lagos. The audience erupted into applause and they all got up. Sophie and Michael were hugging as well as Fadeke, Clive, and Oliver, Ada stood awkwardly next to Eddie, but he didn’t make any move to hug her. With the exception of Michael, Eddie and Oliver’s date, they were all going to the podium to accept the award. As Ada turned to leave the table, she stumbled. Whether it was the proximity to him that had made her awkward, she couldn’t really say. He caught her immediately, with both hands around her waist to steady her. His grip was strong and yet gentle, it sent such a surge of desire through her that she was afraid she would collapse. Her heart was beating so loudly she was sure he could hear it. When he was certain that she was steady, he let go of her. He didn’t say anything.

  Living Lagos didn’t win the award for best use of new media, but Sophie won the award for young person of the year beating some musicians and actors. She looked ecstatic as she gave her acceptance speech, thanking everybody from Michael to her parents, to Eddie and all the staff.

  As Sophie returned to the table, Eddie got up and gave her a congratulatory handshake. He said something to her and Michael, and Ada watched them nod with both understanding and regret. She watched him straighten and wave a goodbye around the table, everybody waved back. Why was he leaving? Where was he going? Did he have a date? Was there some woman he was going to meet? The questions were driving her crazy.

  He looked straight at her before he turned to leave. Ada blinked in shock at the intensity of his stare. She looked away quickly, afraid that he would see the dismay on her face. By the time she looked up again, he had gone, leaving her with a sense of dissatisfaction, confusion and unhappiness with the way the evening had gone.

  Late afternoon the next day, Ada walked into the spacious lobby of the Sheraton Hotel in Ikeja. Truth be told she didn’t want to be there at all, she would have preferred to be alone at her apartment, moping about Eddie, or out in the uncrowded Sunday Lagos, taking some pictures.

  But Zubi had insisted. Their father was in town, and had asked to see them, and even though she wasn’t interested in going, her brother had somehow convinced her to come along with him.

  There was a knot of tension in her stomach as she followed the direction of the front desk to the restaurant, so strong that she was unable to appreciate the beauty around her. The gleaming marble floors, paneled walls and ceilings, were all ignored.

  Her memories of her father were not pleasant. She had seen him about three times a year while growing up, when he came to spend an afternoon at granny’s to look at their report cards and invariably disapprove of everything about them. She had been sure, then, that he wished they were dead, and not alive to trouble him and take him away from his new family. She still thought so sometimes, but the thought no longer made her cry.

  She saw Zubi almost as soon as she entered the restaurant. He was sitting at one of the tables for four, secluded but with a good view of the door. The other man
at the table had his side towards her, not paying any attention to the entrance, but as Zubi rose from his seat, he looked up at her.

  It was like looking into a mirror. Sometimes it still puzzled her, how she could look so much like a man who couldn’t stand the sight of her. He regarded her coolly for a few moments and then turned back to the table.

  Ada walked forward, willing herself not to be afraid of him. She was no longer a child in need of his love and approval, she reminded herself. She reached the table, and hugged Zubi in greeting before he pulled out a chair for her.

  Her father still hadn’t said a word to her. She allowed herself to look at him. He didn’t look his age, money could do that, she thought almost resentfully. He was a distinguished looking man, she conceded. He was tall, the same height as Zubi, and for his age, quite lean. She watched as he glanced at his expensive Swiss watch, Ada almost let out a sigh.

  “Good evening.” She said to him.

  “Good evening.” He replied. His cool eyes regarded her again for a while, she knew he was finding fault, she almost flinched, but decided to square her shoulders instead.

  There were other people at the restaurant. Some foreigners, British by their accents, were having an early dinner nearby. On another table, a large one, a group of people were ordering wine amidst a lot of conversation. Ada took them all in, as her father watched her.

  Zubi tried to break the uncomfortable silence. “I was just telling Dad about your promotion.” He said. He didn’t dare say “your father’’ as he usually did, in the presence of the man in question.

  Ada sighed. This was just what she needed, another disparaging discussion about her ‘nonexistent’ career.

  Her father made a dismissive sound. “It seems you have decided that all you want for yourself is to be a ‘photographer’. He said it as if it was a dirty word, like prostitute or worse.

  Ada didn’t reply. Too many conversations with her father had taught her the art of the stubborn silence.

  A waiter brought a bottle of wine, and poured three glasses as they all sat there, silent and uncomfortable.

  “We should order.” Zubi said, again trying to break the silence.

  Their father shrugged.

  Zubi signaled a waiter. The silence stretched again after they ordered. Ada looked around. More people had joined the large table. They were all hugging each other and laughing, some sort of reunion then. She decided. She wished she were one of them, anywhere else would be better than sitting at this table with her father.

  “So what are you doing in Lagos?” She asked him. He lived in Port Harcourt with his new family, and seldom came to Lagos.

  “Family business.” His wife’s family then, Ada concluded. It was definitely not theirs.

  “How is your wife?” Ada asked him, out of courtesy. Her stepmother was almost a complete stranger to her.

  “She is upstairs, resting.” Her father replied. Ada snorted. Apparently, her stepchildren were not important enough to warrant her leaving her hotel room on a Sunday evening.

  He caught her snort. “I invited your brother here because I wanted to talk to him about the direction of his career.” He said pointedly.

  Not she then, Ada realized. She hadn’t been invited. She turned to glare at Zubi. He was frowning at his glass of wine, unable to meet her eyes. Had he thought he could make this some sort of happy family reunion?

  The food arrived. Ada watched silently as the waiter set plate after plate on the table. She had no appetite. All she wanted to do was leave. She wondered where Eddie was. She doubted he was stuck at an unpleasant dinner. She busied herself with playing with her food as she watched both her brother and her father eat.

  “So your brother tells me you rented an apartment.” Her father asked mid meal.

  Ada nodded.

  “Where did you get the money?” He asked.

  “I work!” She couldn’t keep the exasperation out of her voice.

  He gave her a disparaging look. “As a photographer.” He said disdainfully.

  “Yes.” Ada said. “As a photographer, graphic designer, and editor at a very good magazine.” She held his eyes. “It is a job I like and it pays my bills.” She shrugged. “I don’t care what you think about it.”

  “Then why are you here?” He asked, she could tell he was angry, even though his voice hadn’t risen. “Didn’t you come to see if a promotion and a cheap car would make a difference in the way I feel about what you do?” He shrugged. “Isn’t that why your brother had been going on about your achievements?”

  Ada’s temper rose, but she said nothing. If Zubi was still trying to get their father’s approval after all these years, well, she wasn’t.

  “Isn’t that what you’re doing here?” Her father asked again. “Because I still don’t approve, if you had any intellect, if you weren’t so lazy, you would be doing something better with your time.”

  Spoken by someone married to a woman who had never worked a day in her life, Ada thought. “Maybe Mabel would come downstairs and give me some pointers on how to have a successful career built on intellect.” Ada challenged.

  He glared at her for a moment, and then smiled a small humorless smile. “Mabel was born with advantages people like you can only dream about.” He said dismissively. “She never had to follow the same rules as you.”

  Ada saw red. “Of course not, rules like ‘leave other women’s husbands alone’ obviously never applied to her.”

  “Ada!” Zubi cautioned. Ada ignored him. If he had wanted to keep this civilized, he should never have invited her.

  Her father was annoyed now. His look was steely. “Don’t even get me started on that subject, you ungrateful girl.”

  Ada sighed. “Now what am I supposed to be grateful for? The school fees you paid, thank you! The years you were absent, thank you! That you broke my mother’s heart after she gave you everything she had so you could go marry some woman for her ‘advantages’! Thank you!” She threw her napkin on the table and got up. She had had enough. “Talk about Zubi’s career or whatever you came here for.” She said. “I am going home.”

  She hurried towards the door feeling like an errant teenager. It was impossible for her to be in the same room with her father without getting upset. She was almost at the doors when they opened to admit Eddie, the last person she expected to see.

  She almost ran into him. His face registered surprise as he realized it was her. Filled with an overwhelming urge to rush into his arms or something equally stupid, she pushed past him into the lobby.

  He followed her.

  “Ada!” He called, when she didn’t stop, he reached out and caught her hand. “Are you all right?” He asked.

  “I’m fine.” She took a deep breath. “I’m fine.”

  He nodded. Her hand was tingling where he was holding it. She gave a little tug and he released it.

  “Ada, are you okay?” This time it was Zubi, he had followed her outside to the lobby.

  Ada shrugged, exasperated. She was also a little annoyed with her brother. “I’m fine.” She said again.

  There was a short pause while Zubi and Eddie measured each other up. She contemplated for a moment whether to keep quiet and let it get very awkward.

  “Zubi, this is Eddie Bakare.” She said finally. “Eddie this is Zubi, my brother.”

  They shook hands. “The Eddie Bakare?” Zubi asked. “The one who started Living Lagos with Sophie Aliu?”

  Ada and Eddie both nodded.

  “I’ve heard about you.” Zubi said warmly.

  “Don’t believe everything Ada tells you.” Eddie replied smoothly, a smile on his face.

  “Don’t worry, I know her too well for that.” Zubi told him. They both laughed heartily.

  Ada made a face, not too pleased that they were amusing themselves at her expense. “You’re keeping ‘your father’ waiting,” She told Zubi pointedly.

  “Let him wait,” Zubi shrugged. “Are you all right then?”

 
; Ada sighed. “I said I’m fine.”

  Zubi nodded. “She had a small argument with our father,” He told Eddie. “I just wanted to make sure she didn’t mow anyone down on the way out.”

  They both laughed again before Zubi went back into the restaurant. Traitor, Ada thought mutinously. The least he could have done was storm out with her. That would have taught their father that he couldn’t just push anybody around.

  “So Chief Festus Arinze is your father?” Eddie asked. He was looking through the glass doors into the restaurant. She followed his gaze and saw that Zubi had returned to the table and resumed his conversation with their father.

  Ada looked up into his face, he was looking at her, his face looked puzzled, but she could almost see the wheels turning in his head. Was he remembering something someone had said? Something he had read somewhere? His expression turned soft, with pity, she thought, or maybe understanding. He knew. She frowned and turned away.

  It was a good story, popular even, among a certain type of people. The story of how a young engineer had met the youngest daughter of the then serving minister of petroleum and left his wife and young family to marry her. Her father’s career had been on the fast track since then, and now as a big shot in the Nigerian National Petroleum Corporation, he was a prominent figure in the newspapers. His wife was beautiful too, one of those socialites the gossip columns never got enough of, very few people knew anything about his children from his previous marriage.

  But of course Eddie would know, Ada realized. Her father’s wife was one of his kinds of people. Someone in his family was probably friends with her. She felt a bubble of resentment rise to the surface. They were all the same, these privileged people, they always took what they wanted, no matter who got hurt along the way.

  “Are you alright?” He asked again, his voice more tender than before.

  She looked up into his eyes. No, it wasn’t pity, or understanding that was there, it was concern. How could she never have realized how much he cared about her? I am not fine, she wanted to say, I miss you, I’m miserable, I am sorry, and I was foolish. But the words stuck in her throat. Instead, she smiled at him. “I’m good, really.” She insisted.