Chapter 14: Chapter 14

Miriam tried all she knew, to banish the sad thought of Martha. Still no matter how hard she tried, the miserable thoughts of her remained. It clung stubbornly on her heart, like an indelible mark. She had become depressingly powerless and exhausted by it. She could still see the photographs of her on the glistening walls of their mansion. She saw her face each time she dreamed. Even Amanda, her secretary at the office, seemed to look like Martha. Martha was everywhere, like the air she breathed and like a vengeful ghost, prowling and haunting her killers. The ceaseless thought of her and how she would be faring at the convent bothered Miriam enormously. Most nights she sobbed over it. And most times when Jessie ate alone, or watched the television in the living room with no one to talk to, Miriam blamed herself and her fate for putting them apart. But Frank was making things worst. He always does. He had travelled overseas and had left her and Jessie all alone in the big mansion.

That blistering afternoon as Miriam rose from the chair in her office and stood by the window, watching the cars on the road as they nosed into each other and crawled in the hold-up, she thought about Frank and the cruel and lonely nights she had been having since he travelled. She sighed heavily, and removed her eyes from the busy road and stared at the wall clock. It was 2’o clock, and she had not had lunch. She looked at the files on the table and sighed. She was already fatigued and the backlog of work she had to deal with was increasing by the day. An unexplainable listlessness had gripped her since Martha’s departure. She went to the fridge at the corner and filled the glass with orange juice. She sipped the juice slowly and exhaled, her tongue touching the rim of the glass. She had worked on too many files and she needed some time to unwind. She slugged the juice in the glass and shut down the computer. She took the keys and shut the door of her office and strolled downstairs. She reached the parking lot and backed the car out of the compound and eased up the road. She was on her way to the Mandarin Hotel. The hotel was her bolthole now. It offered her some respite, the right atmosphere to banish the overbearing thought of Martha and the loneliness of Frank’s absence. She sped through the road and was soon at the hotel. She strolled into the lobby and sat at the corner. Her elegant blue gown dotted with red lines sparkled in the light of the lobby, as the brawny scent of her perfume wafted in the air. She looked at the corner and beckoned at a waitress.

‘Good afternoon, ma’am.’

‘Good afternoon,’ Miriam replied, waving her varnished fingernails in the air, as her eyes darted across the waitress’s body. She was beautiful but tartly dressed. Her miniskirt was clingy and slit at one end, revealing her thigh; her buttocks packed deliciously in her skirt. The girls were traps. They were meat for randy men, Miriam thought. Just as the insane thought of whether Frank had lain with any of them crossed her mind.

‘I need a plate of fried rice and chicken and a glass of orange squash,’ she said to the waitress. The waitress wrote down the order and quickly strolled towards the kitchen. Miriam stared at her backside as it danced temptingly in her skirt. She removed her eyes from the waitress’ body and looked across the lobby. She loved the elegance of the lobby and the esoteric taste of the owner.

There was a man at the corner of the lobby staring at her. It was Jonny. Jonny was a regular caller at the lobby at weekends. He was tall, handsome, well-built and light-complexioned. His built and handsomeness seemed to interest a lot of women. Jonny was a dandy man. Miriam looked across the table and her eyes met with his piercing stare, and she loved his handsomeness, his curly coiffure and well-trimmed beards. Jonny was unusually different from all the men she had seen at the lobby. The strangeness of him made her blush. She removed her gaze from him and straightened the white tablecloth. Jonny was determined to unsettle Miriam. He loved her beauty and curviness. But Miriam’s spiffy and opulent air interested him the most. As a man that lived off women, Miriam was the kind he sought after. He was a gigolo and he was not ashamed. There were plenty of rich and lonely women in the world craving for sexual satisfaction. And if they had plenty of money to throw around, whose fault was it if he made a living off them?

Miriam tried not to look at Jonny, as her order arrived and she settled down to eat. Jonny was a total stranger, and was like any other man she had met. But strangely, her heart couldn’t stop beating fast. She could feel his intrusive presence and piercing eyes. She was beginning to feel unusually nervous at the lobby. She exhaled and raised the glass of the orange squash to her mouth and sipped the juice slowly.

Jonny continued to watch Miriam and everything she did. He loved the manner at which she pouted her lips, the way she chewed her food and the sound of her cutlery, as they clicked on the plate. And from the clumsy way Miriam chewed, he could discern she had felt his presence. He smiled thinly and exhaled. He adjusted his starched and billowy shirt; took his bottle of wine and glass from the table and walked towards Miriam.

‘Hello, sunshine,’ Jonny said soulfully, as he reached her, ‘would you mind if I sat with you?’ He stared unflinchingly at Miriam and she stared back at him with a subdued look. She liked his chiseled face, his neat and fine shirt, gleaming beards and brawny scent. She gestured Jonny to a chair and he sat down, hunched on it, as if mellowed by alcohol. He placed his bottle of wine and glass on the table.

‘You know I sat over there,’ Jonny said, pointing at the table some distance away, ‘and I continued to wonder why a beautiful woman like you should be eating all alone, and wearing a long face.’ Miriam raised her face from the table and stared at Jonny, her eyebrows arching. No, was her unhappiness really showing on her face? She wondered. It couldn’t be true. She had always felt better whenever she was at the hotel. How could Jonny have figured out the sadness behind her showy and cheerful exterior?

‘I don’t understand what you mean. I am not…’ Miriam sputtered, staring at Jonny.

‘Of course, I understand you’ll say you’re not unhappy, but your eyes say the contrary. You don’t look particularly happy and it shouldn’t be so for such a ravishing woman like you,’ Jonny said, feigning a concerned look. Miriam studied his face thoughtfully, and watched the lines on his oval face that chiseled it perfectly, the thick dark beards that decked his face and his coiffure that was beautiful and seemed to accentuate his mind-blowing looks. Then she shook her head slowly. She had always loved her family all her life. She had never cheated on Frank nor had she ever contemplated to. But Jonny was making her feel uneasy and eerie. It was weird how she seemed taken by him and how he could see through her. And strangely, he was the first in all these years to make her feel that way. She was accustomed to men leering at her, and to those that have flirted and tried to woo her with all the wondrous words in the world. She had never cared about them and their sweet-talking, but Jonny’s case was eerily different.

‘Really, I don’t know why you think I am unhappy, because I am not,’ Miriam said furtively, running her hand on the white tablecloth. ‘I don’t know you. So I think it would be proper if you start by telling me your name. That’s what gentlemen do.’ Jonny smiled, and revealed his set of gleaming white teeth.

‘Perhaps I’ve behaved ungentlemanly,’ he said, ‘I should apologize for that.’ He placed his hands together and raised them at Miriam imploringly. ‘I am John, but everyone I know calls me Jonny.’

‘I am Miriam… Miriam Obie,’ Miriam replied in a polished lilt.

‘Wait a minute!’ Jonny screeched. ‘Are you the business empress? You’re Frank Obie’s wife?’ Jonny asked, open-mouthed. Miriam was impressed by his theatricals and she smiled.

‘Well… yes. You’re right about that,’ Miriam said, still smiling and sipping the orange squash.

‘Then today is my good day,’ Jonny said in an undertone.

‘Your face looks different. Do you come here often?’ Miriam asked him.

‘No. I come here only at weekends to relax. You know that’s good for health. A man needs to find the time to keep away from the bustling of life and shut himself away from prying eyes and the maddening crowd,’ Jonny said, waxing lyrical and determined to impress Miriam.

‘That’s true. The way you see things are impressive,’ Miriam said, nodding her head passively. ‘So what’s your work? I mean what you do for a living.’ Jonny smiled thinly and stared at Miriam. Miriam’s early discomfort with him had vanished. Her present air looked confident, relaxed and inquisitive.

‘Well, it might shock you to know I‘ve no work,’ Jonny said, after a brief silence, as he sipped his wine. Miriam stared at him, perplexed.

‘I am sorry to have asked if you take umbrage,’ Miriam said, her face wreathed in an apologetic knot. Jonny studied the look on Miriam’s face and was impressed by her compassion.

‘Do not feel sorry. I don’t consider it offensive,’ he said, swishing the wine in his glass as he raised it and took another sip. Miriam watched him as his Adam’s apple quirked, and as the wine drooled from his mouth and ran down his jaw. Jonny brought out the handkerchief in his pocket and wiped the wine. ‘I just happen to be one of the countless young men in this country that are unemployed.’

‘I am extremely sorry about that,’ Miriam said consolingly, staring at him.

‘Honestly, you don’t have to bother,’ Jonny said, smiling, ‘as you can see I am eking out a living and doing just fine. The only trouble I see is that without money, men like us do not stand a chance with gorgeous women like you. Maybe your husband doesn’t tell you you’re the kind of woman that can make another woman sing the famous Dolly Parton’s song.’

‘And which song is that?’ Miriam asked him.

‘Joleen, do you know the song?’ Jonny asked. Miriam nodded her head and smiled; her lips gleaming in the light like it had been smeared with the rich oil of Mary’s alabaster box. She was not thrilled by Jonny’s sweet-talking; she was just in love with his confidence and chatty nature.

‘You know I really think every man should chase money first, and not women. If a man chases women before money, I think he’s putting the cart before the horse. It’s wealth that brings the most beautiful women and it’s with a man’s wealth that he wins a woman’s heart. So when it comes down to women, money does all the talking. It’s expressly clear that women are ruled by wealth and fear, and not by love; which also brings the question of where a woman’s loyalty lies. Is it with her man or with his wealth? In my opinion, I think it’s the latter,’ Jonny said, sipping his wine. Miriam stared at him and forced a half smile.

‘Your opinion about women and money is jaundiced; I am sorry to say. It’s a fallacy of hasty generalization. You must know that every woman is not the same. A lot of women care less about money. They look out for things that are more basic, personal, deep and lasting. Most women choose the substance over the shallow and meretricious looks,’ Miriam said passionately.

‘Is that so? My father always said he found the behavior of women strange and fickle. But he was sure of one thing that was constant with them: “show them money and spend it with them.”’ Jonny said, wiping the beads of sweat on his face.

‘A woman’s life is not strange or fickle, and money is only a part of what makes a relationship strong and better. Money is not all that really makes a woman happy,’ Miriam replied; her words sounding a bit self-referential. ‘In my opinion, I think there are two things that make a woman happy: always show her you love her, and always buy her sweet things.’ Jonny seemed impressed by Miriam’s words and nodded his head like the red-head lizard, bobbing his head in the gleaming sun. Miriam glanced at her wristwatch and contorted her face.

‘I must leave now,’ she said to Jonny, as she rose from the chair. ‘It was really interesting talking with you. And about that matter of you not having a job, you can have my card and call me in a week’s time. I am not promising anything, but I shall see what I can do’ she added, handing him a shiny card.

‘I swear. I’ll call you,’ Jonny said, beaming with a smile. Miriam smiled at him and they shook hands. She made her way towards the exit door. Jonny sat stiffly on the chair, staring at her as her rounded buttocks swerved in her close-fitting blue gown. Miriam was mind-blowing and stunning. She epitomized the African beauty, and she exuded elegance and a gripping sex appeal. The lingering thought of her filled Jonny with lust.

Miriam reached the office and resumed work. The files she left were still on her mahogany table, but the overbearing thought of Jonny lingered on her mind. And for that fleeting moment, she cared less about work. She was enchanted and lost in Jonny’s world. Jonny’s laughter echoed on her mind. It was weird that she behaved in this manner. Of course, she had seen a lot of handsome men every day, and had done businesses with them. While she had sometimes admired most of them, there was nothing more to it. She had never let her mind slip into the absurd. She had always guarded her emotions and kept them in check. Now it looked like Jonny was breaking the mold and creeping into her heart.

When she reached home that night and lay on the bed, she felt cold, lonely and depressed and her mind drifted again to Jonny and his beautiful laughter. His handsome face flashed on her mind. She could see his bulging biceps, his puffy chest and deep brown eyes that twinkled with an unusual glint. And of course, his broad shoulders that made him a strange lookalike of a famous American wrestler. In all sincerity, Jonny was really handsome, and she was beginning to fall for him. But she was madly in love with Frank and would never cheat on him. However, the amorous feeling towards Jonny was hard to understand. Maybe, it was just a rash feeling; an infatuation that would soon die. Frank was still overseas and busier than ever before. And the nights have been terribly cold and lonely. If only he was here, she would never feel this amorous for anyone. Frank was all she had always needed. He knew how to cuddle, warm and fill her with pleasure. He was her elixir and she was really missing him.

The cold that night was pitiless, with the harmattan wind swaying the flowers outside her window and rattling the door. Miriam clasped the soft pillows. She could hear the whooshing wind and the rustling guava leaves. She slipped under the blanket and smothered her face with the pillow. Then her heart travelled to Martha and scalding tears seeped from her eyes.