ESCAPE
I stood still in the shower as the lukewarm water pelted my naked body. I was crying. Salty tears merged with the water streaming down my low-cut hair to my face. I choked on a sob. Why was I crying? What was wrong with me? Why did I cry in the shower every morning? Why did I have this constant feeling of discontent that would not go away?
I turned the faucet and the water stopped running. I walked out of the tub and toweled myself dry. Melvin was in the bedroom. He was still asleep. I could hear his snoring from the bathroom. I brushed my teeth and combed my hair before making my way into the bedroom. I untied the towel I had around my chest and began applying lotion to my body.
"Hmm, baby, come back to bed." It was Melvin. The rubbing sound of lotion on my skin must have woken him.
I continued to apply lotion to my naked body, ignoring his request.
“Babe?”
“I have to go to work. You know that.” I fastened my bra straps.
“You look delicious, as always. How do you do it?”
"Go back to sleep, Melvin."
“Shit,” He groaned, "Why do I have to make this trip tonight when I just got back from one yesterday? I travel too much. I could spend all that travel time wisely, with you.”
I shook my head. “Do you want to get fired?”
“Is it wrong to say I don’t care?”
“Well, I don’t want to get fired.” I took out a pair of flat shoes from the rack hanging on the wall and began walking out of the bedroom. I stopped at the door, turned to see Melvin sitting up, his legs on the edge of the bed. “Have a wonderful trip,” I whispered.
“My wife, won’t even give me a goodbye kiss? Was last night that bad?”
I walked up to him, quickly planted a kiss on his lips and walked away.
“I love you, Sade,” I heard him say before I walked out of our home.
**
The drive to work was surprisingly uneventful. There was usually heavy traffic on the ever-busy Opole Road, but not today. Well, it must be my lucky day, I thought. Opole road was where I got my daily dose of Lagos drama, with commercial bus drivers cursing at the top of their lungs at motorists in their fancy BMWs and Fords and Hondas for driving carefully and thus, slowly. Commercial bus drivers in Lagos were notorious for disregarding traffic rules and driving recklessly. They would zigzag through lanes without regard for other motorists if it meant they would be an inch further than they were in the previous lane. They also often drove over curbs and pedestrian walkways drawing angry stares and curses from the pedestrians. Okada riders were no different and were the menace of most Lagos roads. So, when I tuned into my favorite radio station as I sped through the unusually traffic-free Opole Road and heard a government spokesperson announce that plans were underway to ban Okada in Lagos state, I smiled and heaved a sigh of relief. Maybe there will be fewer accidents now, I thought.
**
“You look wonderful today madam,” Paulo, the security guard saluted as I pulled into the parking lot of Master Bank where I worked as an operations manager. I waved, drove past him and eased my Toyota corolla into my reserved parking spot. Thanks to the lack of traffic on my commute to work, I had arrived an hour earlier than I typically would. I was the first person at work, besides Paulo, whose shift began at 12am and ran till 9am. It was 6:16 am.
I stepped out of the car and made my way to my office. It was very quiet in the banking hall. I walked past the large counter where cashiers attend to mostly impatient clients; past the customer care desk where Toni and Caro struggle daily to placate dissatisfied customers; up the fight of stairs and through rows of doors leading to the offices of other administrators who were blessed not to have to face customers downstairs. We had a special name for the banking hall downstairs: Battle Zone, or BZ. Occasionally, a highly disgruntled client would create a scene, shouting and cursing and threatening to close his account with us while the poor staff would scramble to pacify him. I shook my head as I recalled a recent occurrence.
In my office, I sat behind my desk and set up, plugging my laptop to the Ethernet and getting ready for the day’s work. As I started my laptop, my door flung open and Laolu stormed in.
“Sade, what is this?” He held a newspaper in his hand and thrust it at my face. “Look at this!”
It was the gossip column of one of the local dailies. There was a picture of me holding hands with Sola and walking into the famous restaurant on Victoria Avenue. The caption read: Married Banker, Sade Arinze seen in hot romance with Handsome Bachelor, Sola Kabiri. Laolu’s hand shook as he held the paper in front of my face. I read the first line of the article: ‘Married banker and daughter of Lagos Senator Olu Akitoye, Sade Arinze was seen this past weekend having dinner with….’ I looked up from the paper. “It’s gossip, Laolu, that’s what it is.”
“Is it true? Are you romantically involved with him?” Laolu threw the paper at my desk.
“I can’t believe you’re asking me that.”
“You have not denied it.”
“I won’t even grace that question with an answer.” My voice rose, I was getting upset.
Laolu sighed, “Sade, you know I’m the branch manager here and if this gets to HQ, it could cost us both our jobs. You have a wealthy, politician father. I do not. Besides, this could blow up and affect your reputation. Aren’t you worried? Has your father seen this? Has your husband?”
“Leave my office Laolu. How dare you ask me such questions? We had dinner! I didn’t know having dinner with a potential client was the same as being in a relationship with him. I’m disappointed you can fall for cheap gossip this easily.”
“Be careful Sade,” Laolu responded before walking out of my office and shutting the door behind him.
I picked up the paper. It was today’s paper. Melvin wouldn’t get to see it till he left the house for the airport this evening, but I was certain my father would call once he saw the article. I sighed. I quickly scanned the rest of the article. It was long. I flipped to the next page and saw more pictures of my evening with Sola; there were pictures of me smiling, of him reaching across the table to place his hands on mine, of both of us walking out after dinner and getting into his car. Thankfully, the car had tinted windows or there would have been pictures of us exchanging that deeply passionate kiss. I shivered as I remembered his hand sliding up my dinner gown in the back of the limousine. I could kiss you forever Sade, he had whispered in my ear while softly biting my lobe. He dropped me off at home that night and refused to come in even though Melvin was far away in Casablanca. Sola was such a tease. I smiled and tossed the paper into the trash bin next to my swivel chair.
**
My cell phone rang. It was 10:15 pm and I was getting ready to leave the office. I had received phone calls all day from family and friends, and I was tired of telling them there was nothing to the gossip article. Surprisingly, I had not heard from Melvin, or my father, or Sola himself. I bet Sola also had a rough day receiving a ton of phone calls. I glanced at my phone screen, sighed and picked up the call.
“Daddy.”
“Princess? Is that Melvin boy neglecting you so much that you have to find satisfaction elsewhere?”
His question startled me. I wasn’t expecting him to come at me from that perspective. I was not prepared to answer. “N-no, daddy,” I stuttered.
"Then what is the matter? I know your husband is hardly around, always traveling from pillar to post because of that job of his. I just want to understand what I saw in the newspaper this morning.”
“Why did you wait till now to call me?”
“Answer my question first.”
I exhaled and prepared myself to give him the speech I had given so many times already, Daddy, it’s a gossip column. Don’t believe everything you read. We had dinner, and that was it.
Before I could speak, he spoke up, “Princess, do not lie to me. I will know.”
He was right. I was his only child, and he knew me too well, especially since he raised me alone after mother died giving birth to me in Australia. “Daddy,” I began. My tone was subdued.
“Say no more.” He replied. "From that tone of yours, I know what I need to know. When were you going to tell me, Sade?"
The fact that he switched from Princess to Sade didn’t go unnoticed. “You’re upset.”
“Shouldn’t I be?” He retorted. “You know I have a reputation to protect. You should be more careful, and you should have confided in me. This is something that can easily be taken care of without the scandal. If you prefer this Sola, I can make it easy for you to be with him.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Daddy, no! It’s not like that. Please, don’t hurt Melvin.”
“I thought you said you love Melvin. Why then this affair with Sola?”
“Daddy, it’s complicated.”
“Then fix the complication, or I will be forced to. I raised you better than this. You should be smarter than this. If a cheap newspaper could take so many pictures of you and Sola, imagine what will happen when a bigger paper gets wind of this.”
I was exhausted, physically and mentally, and I didn't have the strength to argue with my father, "I'll sort it out, daddy."
“Good. What about your husband?”
“He left the country for Egypt this evening. Won’t be back till Sunday. He hasn’t called me, so I’m hoping he didn’t get a chance to see the article before traveling. I have to go daddy.”
“Very well, call me if you need anything.”
“Bye.” I hung up.
I packed up my laptop and hurled my bag across my shoulder. I switched off the lights, walked out of my office and headed downstairs. The banking hall was scanty. Few people were still at their desks as I made my way out. Some of them caught my gaze and quickly looked away. I was too tired to care. Outside the building, I quickly made my way to my car. I almost doubled over when I saw Sola standing next to my Toyota.
“Sola,” I gasped and ran towards his outstretched arms. It was the best thing to happen to me all day, falling into his embrace. He wrapped his arms around me and the scent of his cologne drifted into my nose, clouded my senses. I didn’t want to leave his embrace. I began to sob.
“There, there,” He cooed. “It’s OK. It’s going to be OK.” He drew circles on my back with his fingers.
“I’m so exhausted.” I blurted out.
“I know honey, I know. Let’s get out of here. I’ll drive you home.”
**
Sola drove me home, made sure I had a nice, hot bath, gave me two tablets of ibuprofen and tucked me in bed before leaving. I wanted him to stay, to lie next to me and wrap his arms around me, but he insisted on leaving. He kissed me on my forehead. I couldn’t fight him. I had very little energy left in me to argue with him. I watched him close my bedroom door and soon, I fell asleep.
**
My eyes fluttered open, then widened as I saw Melvin standing next to the bed. He looked disheveled, his shirt unbuttoned and his belt hanging loose on his trousers. His eyes were bloodshot and his expression was cold. I slowly sat up. “Melvin?”
“Sade,” His breath reeked of alcohol.
I covered my nose, “Melvin have you been drinking? You don’t drink.”
He swayed left and right like he was going to fall over. I quickly got out of bed and held his shoulders to steady him. He brushed my hands off as quickly as I touched him. “Melvin, what is wrong with you? What is this? Why have you been drinking and why are you here?”
“I thought I would find him. I wanted to ask him what he’s doing with my wife!” His words came out slurred; his expression remained icy.
He saw the paper, I thought. Shit! “Who the hell are you talking about? You’re not making any sense Melvin.”
“You fucking whore!” He swung his left hand and slapped me. “Do you think I’m stupid? Do you think I’m that senseless?”
My right ear rang. The impact of his hand on my face caused me to fall over on the bed. I screamed.
“Shut up, bitch!” He was removing his belt. “I’ll teach you not to mess with me.”
“Melvin! Stop, please. Don’t! Aaaaaaargh!” His belt made impact. The iron buckle tore the skin on my back. “Stop! Please.”
He kept whipping me. With each strike, he cursed at me. I had never seen this Melvin. He was completely different. A monster. I cried and screamed but I knew no one would hear. We lived in a large home my father gave us as a wedding gift. It was in a posh neighborhood and our only neighbors were a long distance away.
After he had exerted his energy, he threw the belt on the bed. Heaving, he said, “Now, I’m leaving for Egypt,” and walked out. I couldn’t move. My entire body throbbed with pain. I couldn’t see the damage he had done to my back, but I knew it was bad, and I could feel the blood stick to my nightgown as I lay face down on the bed. My right ear still rang from the slap. I tried to get up, but unbearable pain shot through my back. I needed to get to my phone, which was on the dresser. I mustered all the strength I could and stood up, wincing and crying as I did. I picked up my phone. Daddy was on speed dial.
**
I must have passed out after calling my father because when I woke, the smell of disinfectant hit my nostrils. Before I opened my eyes, I knew I was laying on a hospital bed. Slowly, I opened my eyes to see my father and three people I did not recognize standing around the bed. I opened my mouth to speak but a groan escaped instead. Tears streamed down my face onto the pillow. My back still hurt, and the pain pulsated through my entire body.
“Don’t talk Princess,” Daddy placed his hand on mine. I winced. I didn’t want anyone touching me.
“Pain,” I managed to moan.
“She was heavily sedated sir, but I’ll get a nurse to inject more morphine.” A light-skinned man standing next to daddy spoke before going out to call a nurse.
I looked around at the other two people standing next to my bed. One was a heavy set woman who wore iro and buba and had a large gele on her head. The other was a tall, thin man who I vaguely recognized. I later learned that the woman was my father’s secretary Mrs. Ibukun and the man was his new driver, Skele. They both insisted on seeing how I was doing so my father let them come into my room with him. The man who had walked out earlier was Mr. Hamid. That was all I knew. That was all there was to know. Mr. Hamid soon returned with a nurse in tow. The nurse proceeded to insert a morphine injection into my intravenous line and mumble something that sounded like “she’ll be fine,” before nodding at my father and Mr. Hamid, and walking out.
“Daddy,” I groaned.
“Princess, don’t worry. This is the last time that idiot will lay his hands on you.”
“Daddy, please….” I could barely complete the sentence before drifting off to unconsciousness.
**
I walked into the conference room and looked around. Laolu was seated at the head of the table facing the large screen which was currently split into four smaller screens. The chief executive officer, Mr. Amaneche gazed at us from one of the split screens and the other three were blank. Adrienne Manasi, our assistant branch manager was seated a little to the left of Laolu so I took the seat to the right of him. I winced as I sat down. It was a month and three weeks since I left the hospital and even though my wounds were healing, I still felt pain whenever I sat down, stood up or bent over.
“So glad you’re here,” Adrienne spoke up first. She smiled as she spoke.
“We’re waiting on the board to join us, as well as Martins, our COO," Laolu said. He looked at me and smiled, "How are you, Sade?"
I returned the smile, “I’ve been better.”
Two of the three blank screens suddenly came on as Laolu mouthed a silent I’m sorry. I nodded.
"Do we have sound, Adrienne?" Laolu asked.
Adrienne clicked on the mouse next to her and nodded. “We do now.”
The meeting began. Everyone took turns offering their condolences over the death of my husband. Such a young marriage, they lamented. An unfortunate accident! Was I doing OK? They asked. If I needed more time off, all I needed to do was ask. They were happy I was able to make it to the meeting despite the short notice. I thanked them for their kindness. Soon, we moved into the main agenda of the meeting: the unimaginably huge account our bank had been asked to manage. I smiled. SolKab Limited had just moved all its accounts to our bank, and it was a huge win for us. The board couldn’t stop singing my praises for reeling in such an enormous account. They were impressed with my work ethic and were offering me a promotion right there. I looked at Laolu, then at Adrienne, “I—I need time to think about the offer,” I said.
"Of course," Mr. Amaneche said. "Given what you've just passed through, I wouldn't expect you to have an answer right away. Take some time to think. Laolu will prepare the paperwork. I'm sure you'll find the offer hard to resist. We pride ourselves on rewarding very enterprising staff, and you have proven that you deserve this promotion.”
"Thank you, sir," I replied. "I look forward to receiving the paperwork."
"Wonderful! You will still be in charge of managing Sola Kabiri's account, of course, we expect you to do a phenomenal job."
"I won't let you down," I replied.
The meeting ended soon after, and I walked back to my office. As I sat down, my door burst open and Laolu walked in. He held a paper in his hand.
“Have you seen this?” He asked, and handed me the newspaper already opened to the story he wanted me to see.
I scanned the headline: Recent widow Sade Arinze files lawsuit against Lamppost Magazine. I looked up at Laolu. "So, what is it about the story that you'd like to talk about?"
He sat down on the chair opposite mine. "First, I'd like to apologize Sade. I judged too quickly. All of us at the bank now see that that gossip column was wrong. You were meeting with Sola to get him to bank with us. I'm so sorry I thought otherwise."
I sighed, “I accept your apology Laolu.”
“I also want to let you know that you’re doing the right thing by suing. They almost ruined your reputation, and their article can be directly linked to the death of your husband. They will pay through their noses. Not that you need the money, but that paper will be crushed to nothingness. I trust your dad to see to that.”
“Thanks for your support Laolu.” I paused and sniffed, “Melvin never drank. He never tasted alcohol in his life. My attorneys and I are very sure he went drinking after he read that article and then stepped behind the wheel. I would react the same way if I were him.”
“I’m so sorry Sade.”
“It’s fine Laolu. I’m heading home.”
“Yes, yes, of course. Do you need help? You’ve been walking awkwardly since you came in.”
“I’m just tired. I’ll be fine.”
“Congratulations on the promotion.”
I smiled. “Thanks.”
Laolu left my office. I picked up my cell phone and quickly dialed, then waited.
“Sweetheart?”
“Sola.” I sighed. The sound of his voice was always music to my ears.
“How did the meeting go?”
“I got a promotion. They are impressed. The plan worked.”
“That’s great. We should celebrate tonight. There’s plenty to be happy about.”
"I'm supposed to be a mourning widow! I can't be seen outside celebrating with you."
“Who said we would go out?”
"Wait, what? You're coming over to my place?"
“Maybe,” I could hear the smile in his voice.
"You'll stay over this time, right? You've never stayed over."
“Sweetheart, I’ll make the pain you feel in your back disappear.”
I closed my eyes and shuddered. “Can’t wait to see you. I’m heading home, I’ll make a sumptuous dinner.”
“See you later.”
“See you later Sola.” I hung up. Sola was right. There was plenty to celebrate. Mr. Hamid had taken care of Melvin and made it look like an accident. Sola had diverted all his funds into my account to strengthen my case against Lamppost magazine's stupid allegations of a romantic relationship between us, and daddy's team of attorneys would see to it that that that paper was buried for good. In all this, I even bagged a promotion! What a lovely escape from what could have been a catastrophe!
I picked up my bag and headed out the office. For the first time in a long time, I felt truly satisfied.