“My dear,” he began, “there are certain things I can compromise on. My dessert is not one of them.” He paused. “And you.” He picked up a spoon, diving into cream and chocolate, emerging with a tempting mix of both. “Why are you still here?” The spoon hovered midair and his gaze held the waiter’s. “Yes, we want another one. Thank you.”Read More
She smiled. “Yes, we are.” Spreading the smile to wave goodbye to a now peeved Taiwo, who marched out of the house with a bag bearing bowls of baked sugar.
“Then I’ll see you at 6.30pm,” he said, “have a good one, and don’t forget to send your address.”
“I won’t.” She followed Taiwo’s car as it reversed out of the compound, and made to shut the door when she noticed the gates remained wide open.Read More
Misan looked at his image again. “Not enough. That’s why I am googling him.” Her eyes darted below to the written content. “Born 1962. Three children, three boys: Eric, Daniel, Arthur. Spouse: Estelle Monn, 1988-2012. What does that mean? Divorced or deceased?” Her eyes swerved upwards. “This hasn’t been updated in a while.”Read More
Few things stopped Misan in her tracks; her offspring were smack at the top of that list. Her eyes narrowed. She thought she recognised all, well almost all, her children’s friends. At the least, the regulars who trooped endlessly in and out of the house before schools re-opened last year. One mulatto stood out among her son’s; it certainly wasn’t this youngster before her. Daniel seemed older and well-built than this lanky teen. “Do I know you, young man?” She leaned forward on the counter, shifting her weight from one leg to another; she’d have to sit down soon.Read More
Kind eyes, strangely flecked grey, in a heavily bearded face and unsmiling mouth, looked her over with faint concern. “Are you all right?” A monolith of a man. A little over 6 ft. The colour of the setting sun. Long arms peeking out of a grey sleeveless t-shirt soaked around the neck, chest and shoulders.Read More