From Pasta to Pigfoot

by Frances Mensah Williams

  Faye looked at him, raising her eyebrows in disbelief. ‘You’ve got a car?’

  ‘I’ll have you know that thanks to all the gigs we’ve been getting this year, I’m now the proud owner of a nicely souped up Golf.’ He grabbed his hat from the rocking chair and jammed it down over his unruly curls, then held out his arm to support her.

  Caroline reached up for Faye’s winter coat and handed it over to her.

  ‘Call me tomorrow,’ she instructed, walking with her to the front door and with Marcus close behind. ‘We’ve got loads of catching up to do, not to mention shopping!’

  Faye nodded and yawned again. Giving them a final hug, she stumbled down the stairs and followed Dermot outside to his car. Coming from the warmth of the house, the cold air cut like a knife, shaking off the drowsiness that threatened to engulf her. Shivering violently, she waited impatiently for Dermot to open the door, sliding into the car as soon as he released the lock.

  ‘I cannot believe how cold it is,’ she moaned, rubbing her hands together. ‘Only a few days ago, I was in shorts and a T-shirt and I still felt hot!’

  His teeth chattering, Dermot nodded and concentrated on demisting the windscreen before slowly pulling out into the road. The heater soon warmed the interior of the car and they were able to speak normally again.

  ‘So, did you meet any hot guys in Ghana?’ Dermot glanced over at her with a teasing grin. ‘No holiday romance or anything?’

  Faye bit her lip, unnerved by the unexpected question. ‘I was only there for three weeks, for goodness’ sake. Of course not!’ she said shortly, and turned her head to look out of the window.

  Dermot raised an eyebrow, taken aback by the abrupt reply. He said nothing further about it and changed the subject to talk about the bargain price he had negotiated for his new car. When they reached her house, Faye stumbled out, shivering once more as the cold hit her.

  Dermot leaned out the window to say goodbye, his expression suddenly serious. ‘I’m glad you’re back, even if I’m not too sure it’s in one piece,’ he said quietly. ‘Whoever the bastard is, I hope he realises what he’s missing.’

  Blowing her a kiss, he drove off, leaving her staring in astonishment at the disappearing tail lights of his car.

  Waking up the next day with a head heavy from the effects of the red wine and a heart heavy from restless dreams of Rocky, Faye spent the morning finally unpacking the suitcase she had consigned to the bottom of her wardrobe on her return. Slowly unfolding the lightweight clothing, she mentally relived the events that had taken place with each outfit worn, before sorting out what needed washing, and packing the rest into the heavy trunk she used to store her summer clothes. By the time she had finished, the gold and bead bracelet – which had yet to leave her wrist – was the only physical reminder left of her trip.

  Just before midday, she trudged down to the local garage to check on the state of her car, sighing in frustration as the mechanic cheerfully assured her that it would not be ready for collection before mid-week. She headed gloomily for the high road to catch the bus that would drop her close to Caroline’s flat, and was almost at the bus stop when she noticed a young couple coming out of the large building that housed the local library. She stared thoughtfully at the imposing Victorian edifice for a few moments and then walked in quickly before she could change her mind.

  She strode into the reference room and after asking for directions from the busy librarian, moved off in search of what she needed. She logged onto one of the computers and browsed through several websites before finding the information she was after. She quickly printed out a number of sheets, crammed them into her coat pocket, and logged off the machine.

  After a hilarious afternoon of shopping with Caroline, Faye returned home exhausted and empty handed. Because most of her last pay packet had gone on taxis and shopping during her holiday, she had been forced to stick to window shopping and watching Caroline spend her own generous salary on what she referred to as ‘my marriage wardrobe’.

  Having turned down her friend’s offer of dinner with the explanation that William and Lucinda had insisted on her joining them for dinner at home that night, Faye went off in search of her brother and found him lounging in an armchair in the spacious family room. He looked up from the legal magazine he was reading and smiled affectionately at her as she sauntered in and curled her long legs into the brown leather couch.

  ‘Hi, kiddo,’ he said, casually tossing the magazine onto the worn Persian rug. ‘How many shops have you left stripped bare of merchandise in your wake?’ he teased. With his long legs sprawled over the side of the armchair, his lean physique was clearly visible. Faye looked at him thoughtfully, thinking how remarkably similar in build he was to Rocky.

  ‘What?’ her brother asked, his eyes narrowing in amusement at Faye’s prolonged scrutiny.

  She laughed, shaking her head in apology. ‘Sorry, I was just thinking about something.’ Legs still crossed, she bounced up and down in excitement.

  ‘Will, did I tell you about our cousin, Joshua?’ Taking no notice of her brother’s feigned not-another-story-from-Ghana expression, she continued excitedly. ‘You won’t believe this, but he’s the spitting image of you!’

  William sat up, clearly interested in this particular story. ‘Really? What does he do? Don’t tell me he’s also a lawyer.’

  Faye shook her head. ‘No, he’s a teacher and he’s really sweet. He told me so much about the cultural traditions that were taking place when we went to the funeral in Ntriso.’ Although she had spent hours talking to her father, Lottie and her brother about her trip, she was never sure whether she had included all the details.

  Their reactions to her account of three weeks in Ghana had been varied. Lottie listened patiently to everything, asking questions and never minding if she repeated a story. In William’s case, while he had been fascinated with her picture of the country in which he had been born, and moved by the details of their mother’s early life, his reaction had been more detached and intellectual and less emotional than she had expected. Her father, on the other hand, had listened without interruption to her stories about Ntriso, her mother’s family and the visit to the cemetery, often with tears in his eyes. Even her light-hearted stories about Frieda’s engagement ceremony and the hilarious dinners she had shared with the Asantes and the Debrahs had been received with emotional self-recriminations about his failure in not giving her the chance to enjoy these experiences sooner.

  She was brought back to the present by the sound of the chimes from the antique clock on the far wall. Exclaiming at the time, she shooed William off to get ready for dinner and rushed upstairs to change. After a quick shower, she pulled a long, grape-coloured dress over her head, letting its unstructured length fall loosely over her slender form. She brushed her hair and sighed wistfully, already missing the expert hairdressers in Accra who had put new life into her locks. Spraying herself liberally with her favourite perfume, she went back downstairs.

  William had also changed and was wearing a pristine white shirt, open at the neck, and a pair of dark trousers. Lucinda arrived just as Faye was walking downstairs and looked radiant in a midnight-blue dress with a pair of tiny diamond studs in her ears.

  Faye hugged her warmly and stood back to admire the other girl’s sparkling beauty. ‘You look gorgeous, as usual,’ she said in admiration. Lucinda was so beautiful that there was simply no point being jealous of her. Tonight, she looked even more stunning than usual and was flushed with excitement, causing Faye to look at her curiously.

  ‘Is there something going on that I should know?’ Her gaze swung between Lucinda and William, her eyes narrow with suspicion.

  ‘Good evening, everyone,’ her father said, interrupting her attempted interrogation. He kissed Lucinda in greeting and led the way into the dining room. A stickler for punctuality, he insisted on dinner being served at exactly seven-thirty and had little sympathy for any excuses for lateness.

  Lottie served
the meal; a rich beef stew with lightly curried rice and a heaped bowl of steamed vegetables. While she was always welcome to join them for meals, she rarely did so, preferring to leave the family to spend time together during the doctor’s infrequent spells at home. Tonight, however, William had insisted she join them and she sat down at the other end of the table from her employer, passing the serving dishes around the table before helping herself.

  Faye chewed on her food and watched with mounting suspicion as her brother and Lucinda appeared content to just smile at each other, seemingly oblivious to the others at the table. Dr Bonsu was in a particularly good mood; laughing and joking throughout dinner and chatting at length with Lottie about their plans to start a rockery at one end of the garden. After yet another exchange of unusually adoring looks between William and Lucinda, Faye put down her fork with an audible clatter.

  ‘Okay, that’s enough!’ she said in exasperation. ‘What on earth is wrong with everyone tonight?’ She wiped her mouth on her napkin and looked accusingly at her brother. ‘You insisted that I should be here for dinner and all I can see is you and Lucinda making eyes at each other like you’ve been apart for six months. What is going on?’

  William almost choked on his food and Lucinda giggled, her face turning pink with embarrassment. Dr Bonsu looked at his son and raised an eyebrow in amusement.

  ‘I think you had better go ahead and say what’s on your mind, William,’ he said mildly. ‘Otherwise, I don’t think you’re going to get to the end of your meal.’

  William cleared his throat and looked sheepishly at his blushing girlfriend. Taking her hand in his, he turned to Faye.

  ‘Okay, Dad already knows but we wanted to tell you and Lottie together,’ he said. ‘Lucinda and I are getting married next summer.’

  Faye squealed in shock, while Lottie clapped her hands together in excitement and rushed around the table to hug the couple. Faye sat in a daze, trying to take in the news. Although she had always known her brother would eventually tie the knot and move out, she was ill-prepared for the rapid changes suddenly taking place in her previously well ordered life. Suddenly aware of everyone’s eyes upon her, she smiled warmly at Lucinda and moved over to kiss and congratulate her, before hugging her brother fiercely.

  ‘Have I been gone three weeks or three months?’ she asked in bemusement, looking up into his smiling face. ‘First it’s Caro and Marcus, and now the two of you!’

  Lucinda took a sip of her water and stared fixedly at Faye. ‘You do know you have to be my bridesmaid, don’t you?’ she asked, her tone making it clear that it was a statement rather than a question.

  The old adage Always the bridesmaid, never the bride popped into Faye’s mind. ‘Make me your maid of honour instead, and you’re on,’ she said hastily as she sat down. ‘And no frilly dresses!’

  ‘You never know,’ William grinned. ’You just might catch the bouquet if you’re lucky.’ He pretended not to see the glare she directed at him and continued unabashed. ‘Speaking of which, we called you one evening when you were in Ghana and they said you were out with someone called Rocky. What’s the story with him, then?’

  Faye tensed and stared blankly at her brother, unable to think of a response that would shut him up. At her continued silence, her father looked across at her in surprise before turning to William.

  ‘Rocky is Mr Asante’s son,’ he said, and looked back at Faye curiously. ‘He’s a banker, I believe. Is that right, Faye?’

  She nodded and took refuge in her glass, trying to breathe despite the sudden heavy weight that was pressing down on her chest. Lucinda sensed Faye’s distress and quickly changed the subject back to the topic of their forthcoming wedding.

  It was on the following Tuesday as she returned to the office from the nearby sandwich shop, that she thrust her hand into her coat pocket and came across the documents she had printed out in the library. Caught up in the excitement of both William and Caroline’s impending nuptials, she had completely forgotten about her research. She walked into the empty staff sitting room and smoothed out the crumpled pages while she finished her sandwich.

  She jumped at the sound of the door opening and sighed in relief when she saw Miss Campbell walking in, turning back to the sheets she had hastily turned over. The older woman was dressed in her customary twin-set and after making herself a cup of tea, came over to where Faye sat frowning in concentration as she went through the forms.

  ‘What are you up to, young lady?’ The older woman sat in the armchair opposite Faye. ‘You looked terribly guilty when I walked in just now.’ She raised an eyebrow in enquiry as she slowly sipped her hot tea.

  Faye looked at her and hesitated for a moment before impulsively thrusting the sheaf of papers towards her. Miss Campbell put down her cup carefully, pushed her glasses back onto her pert little nose and slowly studied the documents. When she had read through them all, she took another sip of her tea and sat back in her chair. ‘Now, why am I not surprised to see this?’ Her eyes twinkled behind her rimless glasses. ‘I’ve noticed something has changed in you since you returned to work and it’s high time, if you ask me.’

  Faye looked at her in surprise and reached out to take back the papers. ‘Do you think I can do it?’ Her eyes mirrored the uncertainty in her voice. The older woman looked back at her quizzically. ‘The real question, my dear, is do you think you can do it?’

  Faye thought for a long moment. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Yes, I do.’

  Miss Campbell nodded slowly. ‘Well then, that’s all that matters. Let me know how it goes, will you?’ With that, she swallowed the rest of her tea, patted Faye’s shoulder in gentle encouragement and left the room.

  The next three weeks came and went, with life apparently carrying on as usual. Faye slipped back into the routine of life at Fiske, Fiske & Partners, spending most of her spare time with Caroline and going on occasional shopping expeditions with Lucinda.

  Returning home after work on a Friday evening, she spotted the envelope addressed to her lying on the mantelpiece in the hall. With shaking fingers, she turned it over and read the address printed on the back of the envelope over and over again. Taking a deep breath, she tore the envelope open and scanned the contents of the single sheet inside before letting out a blood-curdling shout and jumping up and down unrestrainedly, her long legs flying.

  ‘Faye! What on earth is the matter…?’ Lottie stood in the hallway, her hands covered in flour. The expression of alarm on her face rapidly turned into irritation as she realised that Faye was not, in fact, being murdered.

  Dr Bonsu, who had been working on a research paper, hurried out of his study into the hall, clutching his reading glasses. ‘Faye! Are you all right?’

  She rushed over to hug him, still waving the letter in the air. ‘I’ve never been better, Dad,’ she said, almost squealing in her excitement. She handed over the letter and he stared at her for a moment before slipping on his glasses and reading it. He looked up in surprise to find her grinning at him.

  ‘Faye…’ he started, pausing in search of words that he suddenly couldn’t find. Lottie wiped her hands on her apron and hurried forward to take the letter from him. Reading it swiftly, she looked at Faye in disbelief.

  ‘Well, no wonder you made such a rumpus, you secretive thing!’ she exclaimed. ‘When did all this happen?’

  Faye grinned in excitement. ‘I went into the library a few weeks ago and looked it up. I had to go for an interview, but I didn’t want to jinx my chances by telling anyone.’ She seized the letter back from Lottie and kissed it soundly, twirling around with joy.

  ‘Daddy, can you believe it? I’m finally going to college!’

  21

  Cultural Conclusions

  It was unseasonably warm for March and as Faye walked briskly towards the faculty building where her lectures were held, she breathed in the fresh smell of spring, feeling lighter and happier than she had felt for ages. She nodded in greeting to a young woman dressed in jeans and a l
ight jacket who walked past, recognising her as one of the students in her History of Art class.

  It had been three months since she had started her degree course in interior design at the renowned College of Art, and she found it hard to believe that she was the same person as the gawky young girl who had been cocooned in Fiske, Fiske & Partners for so many years. Although she still kept in touch with Miss Campbell, her life was now packed with lectures, design projects and research, giving her little time to think about anything else. What spare time she had was spent shopping with Caroline and Lucinda and trying to help them plan their respective weddings. She had also made friends with some of the people on her course and occasionally crammed the odd design exhibition or group movie night into her crowded schedule.

  Early for once, she walked into the large auditorium and took a seat in the middle of the front row. Looking dreamily around the half-empty hall, she marvelled yet again at the series of events that had brought her there. Her bold decision to phone the College and ask if she could be considered for late admission had taken every ounce of willpower that she possessed. When the call had come inviting her for an interview, she had been on the verge of phoning them back to say that she had changed her mind. It was Auntie Amelia’s advice during a long phone chat that had helped her to push aside the awful memories of interviewing for secretarial jobs.

  She smiled as she remembered the nerve-racking interview for the design course that had felt more like an interrogation. The three faculty members that made up the interview panel had fired questions at her, giving no indication as to whether or not they were impressed by her answers. Nevertheless, fuelled by a burning need to move forward with her life, she had spoken confidently and passionately about her desire to train for a career in interior design. Addressing their concerns about having missed the first few weeks of the course, she had assured them that she was prepared to put in all the hours needed to catch up on the lost time. At the end of the interview, still no wiser as to her fate, she had gone back to her office and to her life to wait anxiously for their response.