Chapter 6: Chapter 6

I still could not concentrate the next day at work. I could not even hold my head up to look at Tunde for long. He was leaning against the closed door in my office, his legs crossed at the ankles and his hands in his pocket.

"What is actually bothering you?"

Tunde asked as I cleared clothes off my table and dumped them on the sewing machine. I hopped on to the table, burying my head in my hands.

"I know that you are bothered about her coming down but didn't you ever want her to know ?"

I told myself that I would tell her but I also knew I could not bring myself to tell her. I had to be drunk or not in my right state of mind for me to ever tell my sister that we dated the same man. I had evil plans of helping her end her relationship with Mathew but not telling her.

"No," I replied.

I raised my eyes slowly to look at him, to see his reaction. But his face bore no judgement. He didn't tilt his head in question or narrow his eyes in thoughts, he just nodded as if he understood .

"You shouldn't have come to work since you told your sales girl to say, you are not around," he said.

"I thought I could face work," I replied with my head buried in my hands once more.

I shut my eyes and wondered why I had convinced myself to come to work. I had told myself that I was strong that I could continue my life as normal.

Even if Ada did find out and fate turned to strain my relationship with my own sister, I kept telling myself I would be fine. In the past, I had found solace in my sewing but it did not work that day. It was difficult. I felt drained; I had no will to do anything.

"Do you want to go somewhere? " Tunde asked suddenly.

"Yes," I replied quickly, looking up.

"Where do you want, my lady?"

"Home. I desperately need to sleep. You know, forgetting for just a moment that there are things I have to wake up to. "

"It's Friday. I also recommend that," he said.

He took my hand bag which was beside me on the table. I tried to take the bag, he took my hand instead. I followed him quietly like a kid, he locked my office and handed the key to me. I waved at Aku in the shop and asked her to lock up, there was this grin on her face that lifted my spirit as she bade us goodbye.

I loved Tunde holding my hands but I needed my hand back for the sake of Madam Chinaka and her usual talks. I started pulling my hand as we passed her shop but Tunde turned to me with a frown.

"Stop," He warned sternly.

I will not deny that simple command with the look on his face, sent chills through my whole system and It was then I stopped trying to take my hand.

As we passed his office, he said, "I'll be going to port harcourt soon for work. "

I nodded, trying to find words to say but I failed miserably and just nodded. Maybe he expected me to say something other than move my head.

In his usual nature, he held the car door open for me as I climbed in. He then handed me my handbag.

" I wanted to ask you, " he started, still holding the car door. "I'm preaching on Sunday. Can you come?"

"I can try."

He shut the door, "I'll send you the address." Then he knocked on the glass.

"Be good," he said when I rolled down the glass.

I paced round the sitting room, as I had been doing since morning I returned home. I sat and stood. I took in a lot of water, bottle after bottle. My eyes kept wandering to the alcohol in the bar close to the dining. I knew that any moment I could go whispering and crying to it. I walked to my room, away from temptation.

Ada could have been on her way by then or maybe she had seen it and gone back thinking of me as a whore. Is that not what they called people who dated another person's man? Maybe she would think I saw the pictures and went after her man. I was not even reasoning straight anymore.

You didn't know.

But I should have known!

I stared into space, hoping to cry. Maybe if I cried I would stop feeling the guilt just a little but the tears would not come. It was how I tried in the past but was only able to cry against Tunde's chest.

I found myself going through our childhood album. Two skinny girls in masculine shorts and shirts. Ada was older than me with just a year and back then we were  so inseparable. A few times she even took the fall for me when I did something wrong but I can't remember ever taking a cane for her. I hated canes.

Most of the clothes we had were bought by my father. He loved to buy us the big shorts and shirts and he would say, ''This is what is invogue. Go and show your mother.'

We used to show her at first, she would wave us off hastily while going through her accounts book. We still walked around her room, waiting for her to be free. But Sadly, we realized she did want to see what we wore so we stopped showing her our new clothes.

Daddy's death tore her apart or so we assumed. She screamed at us with so much determination like she wanted us to just disappear. His death changed my home. We washed her cars , fixed the little problems in the generator, we did everything just so she could appreciate us but it was as if the mere sight of us irritated her.

One day, Ada and I washed her clothes and she returned home and soaked the clothes in water all over again. Raving mad, she said, "Do not ever touch my things, the sight of you two makes me want to run mad already."

That was all before her elder sister, Aunty Maimah took up the responsibility of taking care of us. She showered us with love like we were her own .

I found the tears rolling down. I let it flow, sniffing and more came down, pulling my head into a war zone and before I knew it, my head and my eyes were hurting badly. I looked at more of our pictures, sniffing through the tears, letting out gasps softly.

Memories of our childhood played in my head. There were many times we cried together, especially me, I used to cry a lot. My eyes got heavy and blurry, I placed my head on the pillow, shutting my eyes, trying so hard to blank out. Ada and I used to be so close. It was just weakening to think of the extent our distance drove us to.

Morning came quickly like it supported my self pity. I lay still in bed, staring in the darkness.

A loud banging outside caused me to sit up alert. It sounded like the rumbling of the heavens but this one came too close as if the clouds had descended to my roof.

I unzipped the gown I wore to work the previous day and still sat, hugging myself in anticipation of another one so I would be certain if it was a warning of a heavy rain. Then it came again, a loud banging on the door. It seemed like an attempt to pull down the door not a knock.

It was still dark. My hands reached for my phone to check the time, it was a few minutes past five in the morning.

I made it to the front door and because I was expecting my sister, I ignored all security protocols and opened the door.

Ada was there. She was wearing something white. She walked past me into the house. I noted the oversized polo she wore before locking the door.

It was our first meeting in two years, after the last Christmas with Aunty Maimah and our cousins. After two years, she did not hug me at our first meeting.

I directed the flash light of my phone to where she walked so she could find a seat in the dark room.

"There's been nothing from NEPA for some days," I said apologetically. "Just a minute, let me put on the generator." With that, I hurried to the backyard.

I put on the generator then leaned against the iron bars in my backyard, coaching myself to breathe so that I would be fine.

Coming back to the illuminated sitting room, I could now see she was wearing a large polo that could have been Mathew's and it smeared with red stains.

"How did you come in?" I asked, knowing Ife would not be awake by that time in the morning.

I sat on the polished wooden table at the centre of the sitting room and looked at her.

"I scaled the fence," she said, without interest. She was looking at the television that was still loading as if she was patiently waiting for her favorite program to come on.

"When did you find out? " she asked, tearing her eyes away from the Television .

I just stared at her, saying nothing, not even blinking. Doing nothing but making sure to meet her gaze.

"Why didn't you hug me when you saw me, hasn't it been long enough? " she asked.

" You did not pause at the door," I said.

She nodded. I continued to stare at her without answering any of her questions. I was praying desperately that tears do not roll down so I do not look like, 'Sorry Judas'.

"When did you find out? " she asked again, standing up from where she sat.

My brain was yet to give me a response.

"Answer me! " she yelled, stamping her foot. I shook. She glared at me, hot coals blazing in her eyes. She had never looked at me that way. She was obviously frustrated by my silence.

I thought of lying, considering her weight of anger seemed to depend on the time I knew but I could not.

"The time you sent those pictures," I replied.

She walked to the television, took the remote from the glass stand before turning to me. She looked at me without saying anything. I also stared back waiting for her to spit her anger, disappointment, anything at all.

"Why didn't you tell me? " She finally asked.

"I could not bring myself to tell you."

"I wouldn't have told you. " She shrugged then placed the remote back.

"What? " I asked, puzzled.

She nodded then came and sat beside me on the table.

"I would not have told you if we exchanged shoes," she said.

She got up again and stood in front of me. All the time I sat, watching her. She placed her hands on her waist then let out a laugh.

"You know, I called your mom, I told her I was getting married, " she said, then sat on the arm of the couch. "I didn't tell her out of respect but I wanted to taunt her, I wanted to let her know that one of her girls will soon be having kids that will be older than her kids in her new marriage ."

For the first time that day, I laughed, "That's cruel, " I said. She also laughed.

"We have seen more cruel things, " She said. I nodded in agreement.

"You know I'm not mad at you that we shared a man," she said, then used a hand to cover her face. It was obvious it was heavy in her mouth.

"Maybe we should have been closer . Just maybe if Mummy was here, we would have all been staying in a family house, here in Umuahia, or in Owerri, or wherever in the world, " she said, her eyes admiring my bar before she started walking to it.

"They are all expired," I said.

"I'll check the expiry date later." She settled on a dining seat and began to uncock a bottle of whiskey she found on the first shelf.

"Are you going to the shop today?" she asked, pouring her whisky into a glass cup.

"No," I replied. I did not have any physical or emotional strength left in me. I used that moment to ask about the stains on her dress.

"It's Mathew," she said, in that same way she had told me earlier she scaled the fence - with nonchalance.

"Mathew did what? " I asked.

"That stain is Mathew's blood," she explained.

I still stared at her in question as if she had grown two heads.

"I bit off his ear," she offered, gulping down whisky right from the bottle then she closed her eyes to contain the feeling as it ran down her throat.

"No, that's a joke," I said. But I believed her somehow. I imagined the whole drama in my head and I could actually see her doing it.

She took in another gulp of whiskey then said, "of course it is. That's red wine. I was taking it in the car." She shrugged. "Maybe his blood is here also cause I actually bit him."

I stared at her, more confused with her explanation. I turned my head to the window, it was getting bright outside .

Tunde called but I pressed the mute button. I wanted to tell her about Tunde, how I could easily bond to him even though I did not have up to a month's knowledge of him. I wanted to also let her know the attention he was giving to me was healing me bit by bit. I wanted to tell her all these with the excitement of a young girl who had found a crush. But it was hard to talk about a man with her at that moment.

I walked to the dining and took a seat opposite hers. She pushed a glass of whisky towards me. "Do you remember when we were little, how you loved crying each time we separated to go to our classes? "

"It was you not me," I laughed, "Do you remember that time I went for holiday and you were crying. Not because you missed me but you missed someone that washed the plates? " I asked, playing along.

"I have always been hard working, '' She said, laughing.

We spent the rest of the morning in a series of, 'Do you remember... ' She later went outside and released her cab man then changed from her stained dress. I got busy in the guest room with clothes I had to sew at home. Between us, I knew there was a gap, it gaped open like a big wound.