The change in tempo had clearly found no favour among the guests for as soon as the song ended it was followed by a raucous club number and, with a roar of approval, the partygoers who had wandered off headed back to the dance floor. Taking her hand, Rocky led Faye back to the veranda where Amma, Sonny and JB were laughing at one of Edwin’s jokes.
The laughter stopped abruptly as Faye and Rocky appeared hand in hand in the doorway, silhouetted against the faint light from inside the living room. Then, without warning, a squealing flash of purple whirred across the veranda from the direction of the garden and hurled itself at Rocky, almost toppling him over. Releasing Faye’s hand, he quickly steadied the girl who had thrown her arms around him so forcefully.
‘Hello, Clarissa,’ he said dryly, trying to disentangle her arms from around his neck. Sonny and JB’s faces immediately lightened up as they recognised Rocky’s former girlfriend, although there was nothing former about the way she continued to cling to him or the plum-coloured lipstick imprint she had left on his chin.
Clarissa was even taller than Faye and was undeniably beautiful. Her flawless skin was a warm chocolate-brown and her long slim legs were shown to their best advantage by the very short purple dress she was wearing – or almost wearing, Faye thought cattily. Her hair cascaded down her bare back in a profusion of waves arranged in carefully styled carelessness.
‘Sweetie!’ she gazed up at Rocky with heavily lashed deep brown eyes and pouted. ‘I’ve missed you so much! Why haven’t you called me?’
‘You’re looking very well, Clarissa,’ Rocky said evenly and discreetly tried to disengage himself as she clung possessively onto him. Amma took pity on her brother and moved forward to give Clarissa a hug, forcing her to release her hold. Taking advantage of his freedom, Rocky quickly put an arm behind Faye who had been standing awkwardly to the side and propelled her forward.
‘Clarissa, let me introduce you to a family friend of ours who’s over here on holiday from England,’ he said smoothly. ‘Faye, this is Clarissa Martinson, an old friend of mine.’
‘I’m not sure I like being called old,’ Clarissa retorted, shooting him an annoyed glance before turning her attention to Faye. ‘Well, I suppose I ought to say ‘Welcome to Ghana’ or something.’ Her tone was dismissive. ‘How long are you here for?’ she added, taking note of the fact that an extremely attractive girl in a very sexy dress was standing rather closer to Rocky than she would have liked.
Faye shrugged carelessly. ‘Another couple of weeks or so.’ She noted with irritation the gleam of satisfaction in the other girl’s eyes.
Just then Baaba appeared, fanning herself with one hand and adjusting the top of her dress, which had slipped while she was dancing. She stopped short when she saw Clarissa, and then advanced slowly, a malicious glint in her eye.
‘Well, well, what do we have here?’ she drawled. Her voice sounded even deeper than usual. ‘Clarissa – are you still in town? I thought you said you were leaving for some exciting international modelling assignment not too long ago,’ she asked in feigned surprise.
Clarissa glared back at her. ‘Why, Baaba, how nice to see you too!’ She made no effort to disguise her sarcasm. ‘You’re looking even,’ she paused as she eyed the other girl appraisingly, ‘fuller than I remember,’ she said sweetly. ‘Have we added a teeny bit of weight to our hips?’
Baaba’s eyes spat fire and Amma moved in hastily. ‘Baaba, let’s go and get a drink. How about you, Faye? Would you like another?’
Sonny jumped in quickly. ‘I’ll get her a drink. What were you drinking, Faye, white wine?’
Conscious of everyone’s eyes upon her, Faye nodded quickly and the three of them left, Amma practically dragging a bristling Baaba along with her. JB quickly seized his opportunity and sidled up to Faye. Grinning at her wolfishly, he jerked his head towards the dance floor.
‘What do you say to a dance?’ His expression suggested that much more than a dance was on offer. Faye looked desperately at Rocky but Clarissa had seized his arm again and was expertly steering him away to the side of the veranda, while talking ten to the dozen.
Turning back to JB, Faye nodded reluctantly and followed him into the darkened dance room. Thankfully the music was still uptempo and Faye was able to keep a few inches between them as they danced, which was just as well as JB clearly fancied himself as Ghana’s answer to Michael Jackson and would squeal and spin round without warning, forcing her to step back quickly whenever it happened, or risk bodily harm.
Through the crowd, Faye spotted Sonny dancing with a pretty girl wearing a suede mini and a matching cropped top with long fringes that swayed as she danced. He smiled down at her as they moved rhythmically to the beat, his arm encircling her slender waist. The girl placed her hand on his shoulder and Faye watched with interest as she reached up and whispered something in his ear. He threw his head back in laughter before bending down to answer her.
The tempo changed to a slow reggae beat, but before Faye could leave the dance floor, JB had gathered her into his skinny arms, bending and swaying her to the rhythm of the music. To add insult to injury, he then started to sing – badly – against her ear. Moments later she gasped with relief when a pair of strong arms prised her out of JB’s suffocating embrace.
She turned to see Rocky trying without much success to keep a straight face. Unmoved by JB’s obvious irritation, he invited them to make their way out to the garden where dinner was about to be served. JB draped an arm around Faye who promptly pushed him away and went in search of Amma who was out in the garden trying to calm an irate Baaba.
‘Oh, there you are!’ Faye was relieved to see that no blood had been shed. ‘Let’s go and find a table. Where’s Edwin?’
Amma was equally relieved to abandon her role of mediator and she linked her arm through Baaba’s and propelled her onto the lawn towards an empty table. Spotting Edwin coming out of the house, she waved him over to where they sat. Sonny had been deep in conversation with the girl in the suede skirt and he gallantly escorted her to another table before turning back to join his friends.
Pausing briefly at the bar, Sonny strode over and took the empty seat next to Faye, handing her a full glass of wine.
Baaba, who was sitting next to Amma, sniggered. ‘I suppose we’d better get another chair ready so JB can also sit next to Faye.’
Edwin laughed while Sonny’s lips tightened in annoyance. ‘Where is the LAFA boy anyway?’ Still looking amused, Edwin scoured the stream of people flooding out of the house into the garden.
‘What does LAFA mean?’ Faye asked curiously as Amma and Baaba dissolved into giggles. Amma shook her head reproachfully at her partner.
‘Edwin, don’t be so mean!’ She bit her lip and tried to stop giggling. ‘It stands for ‘locally acquired foreign accent’. Basically it’s someone who fakes an accent from a country they’ve never even visited.’
She stopped speaking as JB strode towards them. He dragged over a chair from the table next to them and planted himself squarely between Faye and Edwin, ignoring the empty chair on the other side of Sonny.
Baaba and Edwin promptly burst out laughing, causing JB to look at them in bewilderment. Amma glared at them and they slowly sobered, trying to avoid eye contact in case one set the other off again.
Rocky came over to stand behind Amma and rested his hands on his sister’s shoulders. ‘Okay, you folks can go up to the buffet table now.’ He nodded in the direction of the food and then moved on to the next table.
Amma stood up and tugged Edwin’s hand, pulling him out of his chair. ‘Come on, I’m hungry – and don’t make any comments about my diet!’ The others followed, with Faye taking the lead and keeping Amma firmly in her sights.
There were a number of people ahead of them waiting in line to reach the buffet table. They took their place at the end of the queue behind a group of expats who, judging from their accents, were British. They seemed friendly and as Faye watched them chatter excitedly, it dawned
on her that for the first time in a very long time, she was not the one who stood out as a minority. She was so deep in thought about the unaccustomed role reversal and how good it felt to be an accepted part of her home country that she failed to register what was happening in front of her.
‘You don’t mind if I slip in here, do you?’ Clarissa squeezed into the line between Amma and Faye, turning her back on the latter as she directed her words at Amma. ‘The line is so long and we’re practically family anyway, aren’t we?’ she smiled sweetly at Amma, who shot her an irritated glare.
‘How about apologising to Faye for just pushing her out of the way? And you know as well as I do that you and Rocky are not together any more.’
With a sulky pout, Clarissa turned to Faye and muttered an insincere ‘Sorry’ under her breath. Smiling at Amma with perfectly outlined plum-coloured lips, she slipped her arm inside hers.
‘Okay, I’ve apologised, sweetie, so don’t be angry with me. And, as for Rocky,’ her smile slipped for a moment as she glanced at Faye briefly with a hard expression in her eyes, ‘don’t you worry. He’ll forgive me – he knows I was only kidding around with Stuart. I hardly even speak to the man, you know.’
Oblivious to the contradiction between her words and her presence at Stuart’s party, Clarissa babbled on. ‘So, have you seen my new TV commercial yet? The company wants me to film another ad for a new fragrance they’re launching. Apparently, I looked really hot in the beach scene and their sales have been rocketing. Isn’t it amazing?’
Clarissa continued to chatter away as they moved towards the food. Baaba decided to ignore her and instead chatted quietly to JB. When she reached the buffet table, Amma picked up a couple of plates from the stack at the side and passed one each to Clarissa and Faye, while admiring the sumptuous spread of local and European dishes.
‘Wow, this looks fantastic. I’m so hungry!’ Amma exclaimed. She reached for another plate and sighed happily. Several waiters were stationed behind the table ready to assist but she waved them away, serving herself generous portions of her favourite dishes.
Clarissa tipped a few grains of plain white rice onto her plate and scooped up some green salad. She waved away the salad dressing offered by the waiter and patted her enviably flat stomach gravely.
‘Those of us in the public eye have to be so careful what we eat,’ she said to no one in particular. Looking over at Baaba, who had started to serve herself, she said thoughtfully, ‘Baaba, you’re so lucky to be able to eat all you want. I would love to make a pig of myself too, but since my figure is my fortune, what can I do?’
Baaba paused and studied her plate for a long moment, torn between the desire to eat what was on it and the joy of tipping it over Clarissa’s head. Amma watched her nervously, but just then Stuart appeared and slipped an arm around Baaba’s waist.
‘You know you have the most incredible figure,’ he said in admiration, his face flushed from a combination of dancing and the contents of the now empty beer bottle in his left hand. ‘Are you having a good time? Let me know if there’s anything you need, eh?’ He patted her generous behind before moving off to check on some other guests.
Baaba smiled smugly at Clarissa and went back to filling her plate. ‘Well, Clarissa, while you’re busy impersonating a stick insect, the rest of us real human beings – especially those of us with incredible figures,’ she paused to rub in Stuart’s words, ‘will enjoy the food on your behalf.’
Clarissa glared at her furiously and tossed her curly mane in indignation. Unable to think of a good comeback, she turned on Faye who was trying without much success to repress a giggle.
‘Do you know how to eat our local food, Faye – is it?’
Not fooled for a moment by the saccharine sweet tone, Faye stared at her, wondering what was coming. She resisted the temptation to reply ‘you put it in your mouth and chew it, don’t you?’ and simply said ‘Yes’.
She turned and selected a slice of delectable looking seasoned fish and added some rice and salad. Moving down the table, she added a piece of barbecued chicken to her plate and some delicious roast pork fresh off the spit. A number of traditional dishes had been laid out further down the table and, peering into a large bowl, she spotted kontomire, with large chunks of pink pigfoot nestling in the spicy green spinach stew. Although she liked spinach stew, her mild distaste for pigfoot had assumed mammoth proportions after the Pigfoot Etcetera saga and she couldn’t help the grimace that crossed her face.
Unfortunately for her, Clarissa noticed the change in her expression and moved in swiftly. ‘What is it, Faye?’ She looked at her with exaggerated concern. ‘Does our food upset you? You just looked like you were going to be ill.’
The others looked over at Faye in surprise.
‘Are you feeling all right, Faye?’ Amma asked with an anxious frown. Embarrassed by the attention, Faye shook her head, restraining the urge to strangle Clarissa. ‘I’m feeling perfectly well,’ she said evenly. ‘The food looks delicious.’ She moved on and had started to serve herself a spoonful of the rich tomato gravy that was to be found in almost every Ghanaian buffet when Clarissa dumped a heaped serving spoon of the spinach and pigfoot stew on her plate.
‘I’m sure you’ll love this, Faye; it’s one of our most popular dishes.’ Her lips were curved into a malicious smile as she waited to see Faye’s reaction.
Faye stared with dismay at the pink pieces of pork lying on her plate. Instantly, the memories of Jasmine and the humiliation she had suffered at Pigfoot Etcetera came flooding back. With one spiteful gesture, Clarissa had hit her weak spot, and Faye could feel her hard-won self-confidence starting to ebb. Her friends were now staring at her curiously and instead of the cosy glow of cultural acceptance she had just been basking in, she suddenly feared that the chill of alienation was going to envelop her once again.
Amma took in the distressed expression on Faye’s face and the triumphant look on Clarissa’s and acted swiftly. Gently removing Faye’s plate from her hands, she transferred the spinach stew onto a clean side plate before handing it back.
‘You know Clarissa,’ she said mildly, ‘if you’re not planning to eat anything else, you should go and sit down. You’re holding up the people behind us.’
With a sulky pout, the other girl stalked off and the others went back to their table.
Faye touched Amma’s arm. ‘Thanks,’ she whispered gratefully, not sure how to explain what had just happened.
‘Take no notice of that girl,’ Amma said, shaking her head in exasperation. ‘She just likes to get attention and she scratches like a cat if she sees anyone around Rocky.’ She giggled and added in a whisper, ‘I warned you that dress would get you into trouble, didn’t I?’
They strolled back to their table, eager to tuck into their food. Waiters circulated between the tables with trays of drinks and one in particular seemed very taken by Faye’s long legs. After his fourth attempt to refill her glass, after she had barely taken a sip from it, Sonny glared at him and he scurried off.
Edwin finished eating first and sat back in his chair. Looking around the table, he cleared his throat noisily. ‘Okay, everybody, I’ve got some news.’ He glanced at Amma nervously and she took a last bite from her plate and looked at him enquiringly.
‘What news?’ She wiped her mouth carefully to avoid smudging her lipstick.
‘I got my American visa yesterday,’ he replied slowly, avoiding her eyes. She sat in silence while Baaba hugged him excitedly and the two men slapped his back in congratulations. JB was practically hopping up and down with joy. In his excitement, he dropped his guard and his accent reverted to a normal Ghanaian intonation.
‘Yes, my brother!’ he chuckled, his gold dentistry flashing in the dusk. ‘You are lucky, eh! I tell you. The way they keep refusing me a visa, unless I find a chick with a foreign passport, I’m stuck in this place!’
Everyone fell silent and he suddenly realised what he had said. He glanced nervously over at Faye. She s
truggled to keep a straight face and chewed delicately on the remains of her chicken, pretending she hadn’t heard anything untoward.
Amma hadn’t said a word since his announcement and Edwin turned to her, trying to disguise the anxiety in his voice.
‘Aren’t you going to congratulate me?’ He injected a note of bravado into what sounded more like a plea than a question. She stared at him, expressionless.
‘Congratulations,’ she said coolly. ‘I’m glad you got what you wanted.’
Sonny, clearly eager to avoid any conflict, excused himself and moved off in the direction of the suede miniskirt. Baaba, on the other hand, put down her cutlery and watched the interchange with interest.
Edwin had taken Amma’s hand and was pleading with her. ‘It’s not that I want to leave you, but you know how hard it’s been for me to get a good job here. Look, if I can work for a year or two over there and maybe do a postgraduate course, it will make all the difference when I come back.’
‘Come on, Amma! It won’t be forever,’ Baaba chipped in helpfully.
‘How do you know?’ Amma glared at her, her eyes flashing in anger. ‘How do you know it won’t be forever?’ Her voice broke, and with a sob she leaped out of her chair and rushed into the house.
There was silence around the table. Dropping her napkin onto the table, Faye stood up. ‘I’ll go and find her.’ She smiled sympathetically at Edwin who now looked completely miserable. Baaba shrugged, for once at a loss for words, while JB kept his eyes down, still unable to look at Faye.
She walked back into the house; the living area now deserted with all the partygoers still outside eating. The music echoed around the empty dance room as she walked across the hall and headed for the veranda. Rocky, on his way out of one of the side rooms, came to a halt when he saw her and she walked over to him.
‘Have you seen Amma?’
He shook his head. Struck by her anxious expression, he asked curiously, ‘Why, what’s the matter? Isn’t she feeling well?’
Faye sighed. ‘She’s a bit upset, that’s all. Edwin has just told her he’s got his visa to go to America.’
From Pasta to Pigfoot Page 26