Chapter 25: Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty Five

“Let’s go to the hotel for a shot” Thounder said “Not now,” bros, “ Fefah replied and looked quickly from side to side like some cornered animal.

“Come on! What’re you afraid of?” He asked. “Let’s go up to the hotel and see Imara.”

At this remark Fefah behaved even more oddly. He hunched his shoulders and turned away. “No”, he said, “Imara doesn’t want me around the hotel anymore. I’ll see you tonight when it’s dark”

“Just a minute, what have you been up to you crook?” Thounder demanded menacingly

“Me ? Nothing” Fefah said, shaking his head. “Just something that might interest you. I’ll meet you at half past six by the boat house.” With these words Fefah vanished into the mist.

Thounder walked to the hotel wondering what Fefah was up to. “Must be careful with this crook”, he muttered to himself. “I won’t get involved in any shady deal, now that I’ve settled down here”.

Thus on getting home for lunch he did not talk about his meeting with Fefah to Imara, knowing that she would start to nag him. Imara was in a lazy, languid mood and after lunch she sat with her feet up on the setter reading a love story in a woman’s magazine. The warm, cosy atmosphere as a result of the heaters made Thounder feel nostalgic. “Looks nice in here,” he said. “This room’s got a nice warm feeling. It brings back memories of home, especially when l got home to my family after a long time in jail.

Imara looked up from her magazine and shook her head. “Mummy’s boy – l know you miss home badly – why don’t you call her?” Imara suggested.

Thounder grinned. “She’d weep with joy if she could see me now”, he said.” However I shall call her on the first day of the new year”.

Thounder’s stomach was full after the big lunch and he was soon dozing peacefully in front of the television set. And Imara, unaware that her fate was in the balance continued to read her magazine.

At six 0’clock, Thounder was woken by Klara who grudgingly handed him a glass of chilled juice. He yawned and stretched, drank his juice and got up. “I might take a walk to the beach,” he said casually. “Won’t be long, Imara.”

“I’m not saying you should not go but just take good care of yourself.” Imara replied. Putting on a wind cheater and a woolen cap over his ears, he went off into the cold evening to meet Fefah.

“I can swear on my grand fathers that Fefah’s up to no good,” he told himself as he walked down the hill. “I’ve got to get rid of the crook. Don’t want him to drag me into any mess.”

It was drizzling again, though driven by a heavy wind. He saw Fefah taking shelter in an old boat house built to protect some millionaire’s boat from the rains and heavy sometimes dusty winds. “Come in, bros,” Thounder said pushing open the wooden doors, and from the inner pocket of his wind cheater he produced a bottle of squadron dark rum.

“Funny weather,” Fefah remarked, as Thounder lit the hurricane lamp. “Don’t know what you doing with this dump?”

“It’s great,” Thounder said pouring the squadron rum into two plastic cups he had pulled from the cupboard.

“Cheers bros,” Fefah said as they clicked cups. He swallowed the drink very quickly and the two men sat on a plank inside the boat house.

“Well,” Thounder said, “so what’s the news you want me to hear? I don’t want any stale news – because l don’t have time to waste”. “No, it’s nothing like that”, Fefah replied. “I just wanted you to read this.” Putting his hand into his pocket he pulled out a letter that was addressed to Imara. Thounder stared at it suspiciously, “it’s addressed to my wife,” he said. “What the heck are you doing with her letters? You stole it, didn’t you, you snake?” “Relax and just read it,” Fefah said mockingly. “Read the bloody thing, then you decide if you still have a wife”. With a puzzled frown on his face, Thounder opened up the letter. It was just one page long and written by hand. In very plain language, the writer of the letter thanked Imara for a hectic and enjoyable time and suggested that they do it every time he came to Port City for business. As he read through this, Thounder’s face first went dark and then with a snarl, he screwed up the letter and threw it on the floor. “You filthy pig; he said to Fefah, “putting your nose into other people’s business is wrong.”

“Don’t fool yourself, your sweetie was an slut – a real mama scatter,” Fefah mocked, standing up for himself. “That’s not all – l’ve got more letters to prove it.”

Before he could say jack, Thounder was on him in a flash swiftly, Fefah tried to wriggle away from Thounder’s grasp but he had grabbed the muffler and pulled it tight Fefah’s eyes seemed nearly to pop out of his head as he almost strangled him.

“You blackmailer,” he shouted, shaking Fefah about like a captured rat. “I want the rest of the letters were are they? I swear l shall deal with you if my relationship with Imara is destroyed.”

“Okay! Take it easy bros, l only needed some coins to take care of some needs,” Fefah remarked. “Let go and l’ll give them to you.”

Thounder released him and Fefah dropped to the floor holding his throat. Getting to his feet, he tried to run for the door, but Thounder blocked him.

“It’s me your bros,” Fefah wailed. “I thought you would like to know. That’s how she came down here with that kinky Lebanese old man who left her the hotel. All l need is five grand and l’ll part with the other letters from her different customers. I’ve got them at my base.”

Thounder grabbed the bottle of dark rum and began drinking straight from the bottle. His face was dark and angry – looking and his eyes had a murderous glint in them. “You’ll have to defend your stories. Let’s go and see Imara. I intend to know the truth, l can assure you.” He pulled open the door and Fefah quickly pulled away from him with a jerk and fled out into the night. “Come back here, you cut throat, blackmailing son of a gun!” Thounder roared into the dark night but only the crashing of the waves and the whistling of the wind were his answers. Fefah had vanished into the night.

With a grunt, Thounder sat down and emptied the bottle of rum. There was a deep frown on his face and the drunker he became, the more the veins on his forehead bulged. Blind with rage, he got up, kicked the wall and banged his fist against the door. Then he stumbled out into the night and ran all the way back to the hotel. Imara was in the kitchen making tea. After all the celebrations they had decided to give the staff a night off, so there was no bar that night. Suddenly Thounder, dashed in from outside, rushed across the room and grabbed her by the throat. Pushing her viciously against the wall he held her tight and glared at her with his wild, drunken eyes.

Imara was stunned. “Gracious Madonna, Thounder, Thounder, what’s wrong”? she gasped. “Shut up! Tell me that you are not a slut. a low life,” he growled, “and that l’ve not been living on the deadly fruits of your fornication with an old man. My gosh how blind and gullible l’ve been! Now tell me about your escapades in Port City while l was in the prison. I want the truth, Imara, or l swear it’s going to be the last Christmas you’ve just seen”. To show her that he meant what he was saying, he squeezed her wrist with brutal strength.

Imara cried out. “Leave my hand, Thounder.” The pain was blinding. Imara tried to free her wrist but he was much too strong and she felt weak with fear. Then it dawned on her that Fefah had definitely been in contact with him. Thounder then loosened his grip on Imara and she put her arms around his neck. “Oh my darling Thounder,” she cried. It’s your sweetheart – Imara. Don’t hurt me,” she pleaded.

“Then confess! Tell me the truth,” he said swinging off to the other side of the room and pouring himself a mug of tea. “I believe you’ve seen Fefah,” Imara said sadly. “Yes, that’s not news anymore,” Thounder replied, “and l read a filthy letter written to you. He says all l’ve got to do is pay him and he’ll give me the other letters.” Imara felt as though her heart had almost stopped beating. Her worst fears had come to pass. At that moment she wished the ground would open up and swallow her. How was she going to get out of this? Thounder certainly meant what he said about dealing with her. “It’s not true, Thounder,” she whispered on “…only some of it is and Fefah wanted me….”

“What a mess!” Thounder swore, slamming down his mug on the table. “So l married a whore, and only God knows who else you’ve been with. Area scatter of course Fefah merely wanted his share of the national cake.” “Oh Thounder,” Imara pleaded weeping. “Shut up! Area scatter,” Thounder shouted. He seemed to pull himself up to twice his normal height and rushed at her again. He took a swipe at her and missed. Picking up his mug, he hurled it at her but missed and it crashed into the shelf which was neatly stacked with glasses. There was a loud crack and the glasses flew in all directions. As a large piece of glass hit Imara in the face, she screamed and instinctively brought up her hands to protect her eyes. Blood poured through her fingers all over her clothes and on to the tiled floor.

Thounder looked in horror at the sight of Imara bleeding, then he dashed to her crying, “oh Imara, my Imara!” He was too late to stop her falling to the floor as she fainted, and he groaned in anguish when he saw the huge gash on her face which ran from her eye to her mouth over wrought and panic – stricken, he pulled her tightly into his arms. “Klara! Klara!” he yelled.

But Klara was already there, having been listening to the commotion from outside. Rushing forward, she pushed Thounder away and held a clean white towel to the terrible wound. “Now you’re satisfied,” Klara said eyes blazing with anger.

“Now’s not the time for that,” Thounder replied. “What do we do?” “Get your mobile phone and bring the doctor here fast,” she whispered between sobs, “unless you want her to bleed to death – but you’ll hang for it too.”

Without a word, Thounder rushed to get his mobile phone.

The following day, the Abude Hotel and Towers wore a gloomy look as word spread that the beautiful madam of the hotel had been involved in a domestic accident. Though no details of the accident was given but rumours had it that she had slipped on the tiles while carrying a tray filled with big glass jugs and had cut her face very badly. This had happened the night before.

Imara was a very popular boss and everyone sent their condolences and love. Some of the hotel patrons expressed their desire to see her personally but were politely turned down by Thounder. However she lay upstairs in bed, heavily sedated after the doctor had stitched up her face. Beside her Klara sat with her eyes red from weeping. “The wound’s deep,” the doctor told Klara. “We better make arrangements to take her to hospital but she’s losing too much blood. I’d better do the stitching here.”

Klara nodded her head, “please doctor save her for me, this is the only family member l have on earth.” Klara pleaded amidst sobs.

While Imara was in bed upstairs, Thounder managed the hotel, though devastated he remained sober. It never occurred to anyone that Thounder might have been responsible for his wife’s injury.

Everyone knew that Thounder and Imara were a devoted couple, and nobody knew, except Klara. Klara had cleaned up the mess in the kitchen before the doctor had arrived, for she knew that Imara would not want anybody to know what really happened. She was glad to do this for Imara but she hated Thounder more than ever and stared at him malevolently whenever he crept into Imara’s bedroom to kneel beside the bed. “Oh Imara,” he would weep, “I’m very sorry.”

Over and over again Klara would listen to Thounder’s deep sobs and apologies and she sighed disapprovingly when Imara on one occasion reached out her hand to him and whispered sleepily. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, Imara has forgiven you.”

And on another occasion, Klara snarled at him, “don’t you think you’ve done enough? Give her some breathing space.” She barked.

Early the next morning he set off on his mission to find Fefah and make him pay for the evil he had done. Going down into the town, he asked his friends down at the harbour. But no one had seen anybody that matched Fefah’s description. Shaking his head, Thounder went on through the town and still there was no trace of Fefah. He had completely disappeared.

At the end of a long day, Thounder returned home to Imara and sat beside her bed. She seemed more alert and he tried to persuade her to take some nourishment and to cheer her up.

“I’m finding it difficult to smile,” she said. “I hope l’m not going to end up with a big scar on my face.” “Don’t worry my dear, it’s well,” Thounder said consolingly. “And l’m very sorry for doing this to you” “It’s not your fault, darling,” Imara said. “It’s that crook Fefah, do you know that Fefah raped one of the female staff?” “My God” Tunde exclaimed. “Which of the female staff?” He asked. “Jemima of course and this happened after he’d stolen the money she was saving to buy her wedding dress”. “ Oh jeez, how come nobody told me all these,” Thounder queried.”It’s not intentional, didn’t want to bother you because I believed Klara and I could handle that he-goat.”

“I’ve been looking for him and l shall get him,” Thounder vowed. “He will never bother you again once l’m through with him, and he won’t go about raping little girls when I’m through with him.”

Imara shook her head but winced at the pain. “No, need Thounder, Jemima’s gone off to marry Kofi” she said. “Let’s forget about him, he’s not worth the attention. You and l are happy here, we’ve learned our lesson the hard way. Let’s live and love each other – that’s all l ask.” “Okay! My darling,” Thounder said nodding his head but deep down he was still bent on finding Fefah and making him pay for his sins.

With the successful reconciliation between Thounder and his wife, the Abude Hotal and Towers carried on as before even though Imara was still recovering in bed and Thounder spent most of his time at her aside. The hotel staff had volunteered to do extra work to keep things running smoothly for the time being.

Klara continued to sit in the corner of the bedroom, watching television and casting evil looks in Thounder’s direction as if he were likely to attack Imara again. She would never forget or forgive what he had done to her madam. The day the dressings on Imara’s wound were to be removed the doctor took Klara aside. “She’s going to have a very nasty scar on her face face and it’s not going to be very pleasant,” he warned.

“And when I remove the bandages, I don’t want you to react in any way. it’s going to be a great shock to her so it’s best for us to be as calm as possible”. Klara nodded in agreement and was glad that Tunde was not around. He had gone out on some business runs that morning.

When the doctor remove the dressing and Klara saw the beautiful face of her mistress so badly disfigured, she wanted to cry out. But on recalling her earlier discussion with the doctor she controlled herself and instead she looked away. “How does my face look?” Imara asked anxiously. “It’s fine” Klara replied turning her back.” Can hardly see it.”

But the dark scar went from Imara’s eye to her lip and made her mouth distorted.

“Let me see” Imara said for deep within her she sensed something was wrong and Klara’s shifty attitude spoke volumes. “Give me the mirror” She reached out towards the hand mirror on the dressing table. The doctor coughed nervously.’ “Now, Madam”, he said “remember that it’s going yo get better and better with time. Don’t mind the colour, gradually it will fade until it won’t be visible again except at close up”. He picked up the mirror to hand it to her but hesitated again. “ And of course, if necessary we can make arrangement for plastic surgery. I hear there is a good plastic surgeon in Port Fresco, they are good in this area” Instead of allaying Imara’s fears as the doctor had hoped, his word only alerted her. “Hand me the mirror”. She shouted. “Let me see my face.”

“Come-on madam, calm sown”, the doctor began. “it’s not the end of the world, it can be repaired”. Klara merely gave the doctor a great shove as she rushed to Imara’s bedside.

“Oh God, goodness me” Imara sobbed. “Klara have you seen my face? It’s horrible, it’s ugly. Oh Klara why didn’t you warn me?”

But Klara just cuddled her tight, “It’ll be all right, dear,” she said reassuringly. “You heard the good doctor, the scar has not healed yet. You’ll be as good as new in no time” Klara consoled her.