her. I couldn’t see her face because she was staring into the growing darkness, the absence of street lighting emphasising the murkiness of everything that lay outside.
‘Well, I think you’re a nice girl too.’
‘Ha! More like you think I’m very boring. Abikẹ’s bland sidekick. The beautiful girl that ornaments the room.’
‘No. Not at all.’
‘Whatever. You wouldn’t be the first. Do you know why I became friends with her? My father was in trouble at work. He works for her father. I become her friend, get into the elite circle that grovels around her and suddenly Popsy is coming in for a promotion.’
‘Oh.’
‘Do you know why I’m so boring?’
‘No. I mean you’re not – I don’t think—’
‘It’s because Abikẹ likes me this way. She’s not going to have competition. She’ll let me in because I’m pretty but I’d better not use that against her. So I sit there and sigh or else maybe Popsy might be getting a letter from the boss.’
It all seemed a little far-fetched. This powerful businessman handing out promotions at the whim of a teenager.
‘What do you think of Oritse? You don’t want to know? She’s caught you, hasn’t she?’
‘No one has caught me.’
‘You think Oritse likes her, don’t you? Well, he doesn’t.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Because we’re going out.’
I had misread things. Abikẹ and Oritse were friends. There was no one in my way.
Surely there was something I was forgetting.
‘What about the song?’
‘Abikẹ’s father is on the board of one of the leading record labels in this country. You’ve heard Oritse sing. All he needs is someone like Mr Johnson to take an interest in him. Till that happens, he’ll keep writing songs that are supposedly about Abikẹ.’
‘So you’re using Abikẹ for what her father can give you.’
‘Spare your pity. She’s the one that wants to have the talented, the beautiful, the cleverest running around to her orders.’
‘Why are you telling me all this?’
‘We thought you would ask. Out of all of us that are in “the group”, you’re the only one that has nothing to lose by making Abikẹ feel sorry. Or is there something you want from Mr Johnson?’
‘Why would I want to make Abikẹ feel sorry?’
‘It’s early days. You’ll soon find out. Which turning do we take?’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll get down here.’
The car stopped and I stepped into one of the suburbs that preceded Mile 12.
‘Think about it,’ she said. ‘Watch her. You’ll see.’
Chapter 18
‘Abikẹ, what does your father do?’
‘Many things.’
‘Like what?’
‘Shipping, construction, insurance, electronics. Olumide Johnson does everything. Why?’
‘I was just wondering what it took to build a house like yours.’
‘Very funny.’
We were in the pool but we weren’t swimming. What he loved was the simulated waves drifting him wherever they pleased. Sometimes our bodies would bump against each other. While we were floating, one of my half-brothers walked in with a towel draped round his neck. Once he saw me, he turned and left.
‘Who was that?’
Before my parents got married, my father was a notorious bachelor. According to him, people said that he only had to glance at a woman for her to feel a kick in her stomach. My half-siblings are the remains of all that excitement. As I live in an opposite wing of the house, I never see them. Sometimes my father tells me snippets of their stories. A few years ago, he threw out all the girls when rumours of half-incest began to cling around the eldest boy.
I considered lying. What did I have to hide? ‘It was my half-brother.’
‘You never told me you had siblings.’
‘Half.’
‘How many half-siblings do you have?’
The truth was I didn’t know.
‘Nine.’ It seemed a plausible number.
‘Where do they all live?’
‘On the other side of the house.’
‘How come I’ve never met
‘Well, I think you’re a nice girl too.’
‘Ha! More like you think I’m very boring. Abikẹ’s bland sidekick. The beautiful girl that ornaments the room.’
‘No. Not at all.’
‘Whatever. You wouldn’t be the first. Do you know why I became friends with her? My father was in trouble at work. He works for her father. I become her friend, get into the elite circle that grovels around her and suddenly Popsy is coming in for a promotion.’
‘Oh.’
‘Do you know why I’m so boring?’
‘No. I mean you’re not – I don’t think—’
‘It’s because Abikẹ likes me this way. She’s not going to have competition. She’ll let me in because I’m pretty but I’d better not use that against her. So I sit there and sigh or else maybe Popsy might be getting a letter from the boss.’
It all seemed a little far-fetched. This powerful businessman handing out promotions at the whim of a teenager.
‘What do you think of Oritse? You don’t want to know? She’s caught you, hasn’t she?’
‘No one has caught me.’
‘You think Oritse likes her, don’t you? Well, he doesn’t.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Because we’re going out.’
I had misread things. Abikẹ and Oritse were friends. There was no one in my way.
Surely there was something I was forgetting.
‘What about the song?’
‘Abikẹ’s father is on the board of one of the leading record labels in this country. You’ve heard Oritse sing. All he needs is someone like Mr Johnson to take an interest in him. Till that happens, he’ll keep writing songs that are supposedly about Abikẹ.’
‘So you’re using Abikẹ for what her father can give you.’
‘Spare your pity. She’s the one that wants to have the talented, the beautiful, the cleverest running around to her orders.’
‘Why are you telling me all this?’
‘We thought you would ask. Out of all of us that are in “the group”, you’re the only one that has nothing to lose by making Abikẹ feel sorry. Or is there something you want from Mr Johnson?’
‘Why would I want to make Abikẹ feel sorry?’
‘It’s early days. You’ll soon find out. Which turning do we take?’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll get down here.’
The car stopped and I stepped into one of the suburbs that preceded Mile 12.
‘Think about it,’ she said. ‘Watch her. You’ll see.’
Chapter 18
‘Abikẹ, what does your father do?’
‘Many things.’
‘Like what?’
‘Shipping, construction, insurance, electronics. Olumide Johnson does everything. Why?’
‘I was just wondering what it took to build a house like yours.’
‘Very funny.’
We were in the pool but we weren’t swimming. What he loved was the simulated waves drifting him wherever they pleased. Sometimes our bodies would bump against each other. While we were floating, one of my half-brothers walked in with a towel draped round his neck. Once he saw me, he turned and left.
‘Who was that?’
Before my parents got married, my father was a notorious bachelor. According to him, people said that he only had to glance at a woman for her to feel a kick in her stomach. My half-siblings are the remains of all that excitement. As I live in an opposite wing of the house, I never see them. Sometimes my father tells me snippets of their stories. A few years ago, he threw out all the girls when rumours of half-incest began to cling around the eldest boy.
I considered lying. What did I have to hide? ‘It was my half-brother.’
‘You never told me you had siblings.’
‘Half.’
‘How many half-siblings do you have?’
The truth was I didn’t know.
‘Nine.’ It seemed a plausible number.
‘Where do they all live?’
‘On the other side of the house.’
‘How come I’ve never met
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