Hidden Currents (Lagos Romance Series)

by Somi Ekhasomhi

  He shrugged and started to move again. “No need.” He said, giving her another one of his dimpled smiles “I can take you home.”

  The last thing she wanted was for Eddie Bakare to know where she lived. She started to protest but realized how silly and childish it would seem. She followed him silently into the car park, inwardly seething and wishing she hadn’t run into him at all.

  The journey to her apartment was short. He drove one of those Mercedes Coupes that purred like a cat and moved like a dream. He drove silently too, nodding his head to the music playing on the radio and listening as she gave directions. In no time, they were at her place.

  She hadn’t planned to let him in, but she saw now that it would be impossible not to. He was carrying the bags, and she couldn’t see any reasonable way to get him to leave them by the door and disappear. He wouldn’t even accept that. Reluctantly she found herself opening up her new home to the last person she had ever expected, or planned to see it.

  “Nice place!” He said as they walked through the living room to the kitchen. She knew it was true, but as it came from him, it seemed condescending. Why would a mini-flat seem ‘nice’ to him, when he had access to most of the best mansions in the country? She looked at him, he expected her to say something. “Thank you.” She managed finally, feeling unreasonably resentful.

  “I’ll get the other bags.” He said, turning to return to the car, his eyes took in the bare walls and windows and furniture piled in one corner of the living room. “How long has it been since you moved in?” He asked.

  “Two days” Ada replied.

  “So you haven’t unpacked.” He commented, stating the obvious. “I live close by, “He added, “I could help if you need someone who’s handy with a hammer.”

  As if she would let him! “Thanks but don’t bother.” Ada said quickly, “I already have a carpenter coming soon to help with all that.”

  He soon left, after bringing in all her shopping. Relieved, Ada went to work, unpacking, hanging up her clothes, arranging her toiletries in the bathroom, her plates and pots in the kitchen. The carpenter came and hung up the curtains. There was also a gasman, who came to fill her gas cylinder, and an electrician to install the lights.

  It wasn’t until early evening that she finally completed all her tasks. Exhausted and hungry, she was cleaning the last of the debris and dust from the carpentry work when the doorbell rang. She ignored it, it was a mistake, maybe someone was ringing at the next flat, or a child was playing. Nobody knew where she lived yet, apart from her brother and...”

  The thought that it could be Eddie made her momentarily confused, but why would he come back to her flat? She went to the kitchen to dump the duster and walked slowly back to the living room. It was probably a friendly neighbor, or the landlord, or maybe Zubi had come back.

  She went towards the door and looked through the peephole.

  It was him! He was standing there, just waiting as if he had every reason to be sure that he was a welcome visitor. What in heaven’s name did he want?

  Ada paused at the door. She could pretend that she wasn’t at home. There was no reason on earth why she couldn’t leave him standing outside, well apart from the fact that he was technically her boss, a little voice reminded her. With a sigh, she unlocked the door and pulled it open.

  He looked fresh. He had changed his clothes and was now dressed in jeans and one of those short sleeve shirts that always looked stylish. In a moment of self-indulgence, she allowed her eyes to roam over his body. She had always thought that she didn’t particularly like typically handsome men. It was hard to remember that now as she looked at him.

  He smiled, letting loose a dimple. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.” He said.

  She folded her arms, suddenly and uncomfortably aware that while he looked clean and fresh, she was wearing the clothes with which she’d been cleaning and dusting the apartment since morning. “No, you’re not disturbing me.” She replied, sure that the expression her face totally implied the opposite.

  He nodded and then reached over. Before she could react, he had pulled something from her hair. It was a wood shaving. He handed it to her.

  She breathed, frowning slightly as she tried to ignore the fact that while her heart had practically stopped beating a moment ago, it was now hammering wildly. She took the shaving from him. What had she expected, that he was going to stroke her face or her hair?

  “Your flat looks good.” He stated, his eyes moving past her to the living room, she turned to follow his gaze. The rug had been laid, and the curtains hung, she hadn’t put up her pictures yet, but it did look good.

  “Thank you.” She replied.

  “I’m on my way to the Island.” He told her. “One of my sister’s demands my presence at her house.” He chuckled. “She probably needs someone to help her watch the kids.”

  Ada listened, a little confused. Why had he told her that? Why was he being so friendly with her? Did he think she was Sophie, or another one of his close friends? She wasn’t. They weren’t friends, and they had never been friends. He had no reason to think he could tell her things like that.

  “Anyway.” He continued, not at all looking as if he minded watching his sister’s kids, “I was thinking that, with all the things you had to do today, you might not be able to rustle up something to eat. So…” He handed her a package, and she took it on reflex.

  “It’s just dinner for one.” He smiled.

  Feeling slightly guilty, she thought about inviting him in, instead of leaving him standing outside like an incredibly well dressed deliveryman, but she didn’t want to, she didn’t want to be friends with Eddie Bakare. What did they have in common after all? How could he ever understand the kind of person she was, and the things that were important to her?

  “Alright.” He drew out the word, when she didn’t say anything. “I should get going.”

  He started to turn around.

  “Wait.” Ada said. “Wait.” She paused. “Thanks for the today.” She said softly, “Thanks for everything.”

  He smiled, more brightly than she had ever seen. Ada felt her stomach clench as the full brilliance of the glorious dimpled smile turned on her.

  This is why I don’t like handsome men, Ada said to herself, her fingers trembling as she watched him run down the stairs, taking them two at a time, and fast. This has to be why.

  Chapter Three

  It was a society wedding. The type where there were a lot of high profile people, no celebrities or sports people, just a lot of old money, a few politicians with old names, and their highly indulged offspring.

  It was noisy, but it was a refined sort of noise, well-modulated voices of society matrons in conversation, their exclamations as they met the children of their friends - potential spouses for their children, the deep laughter of men, not too loud, just self-possessed, the way rich men laughed, not the loud, self-conscious cackling often attributed to the obsequious poor. Above the din, the live band played, alternating between old classics and modern sounds.

  They were beautiful, Ada thought, these people. The women, with their expensive laces, sweet smelling perfumes and beautiful jewelry, - not the loud, heavy jewels of the classless rich, but subdued pieces of gold, pearls and precious stones that didn’t need to scream to get your attention. The men, with their distinguished airs, deep voices and impeccable manners, and their children, young, beautiful and stylish with musical voices adorned with the best of British and American private school accents.

  Ada had a camera hanging down her neck, but apart from that, she had dressed to fit in. Her hair had been flat ironed to fit into a loose chignon, her peach dress was stylish and elegant, as were her simple jewelry, and she had worn heels, short heels, very comfortable heels, but still heels. The bride’s mother had been emphatic about not wanting a young girl in jeans and a t-shirt, spoiling the aesthetics of the wedding.

  Well, they were paying a lot. Ada thought as she took pictures of the bride
feeding her new husband some of the wedding cake. Her hair would go back to its natural state, and her feet would stop hurting once she took off the shoes. With the money they were paying her, she would have worn a plastic bucket if they had insisted.

  She took some more pictures, the bridesmaids, all of them on one table, looking exotic in rose colored gowns, the bride’s mother and her friends all wearing the Aso-Ebi, the official wedding cloth for family and friends, the groomsmen toasting the groom, wine glasses raised, and also people just sitting at their tables. The M.C was saying something, Ada wasn’t really listening, any moment now the bride would toss the bouquet, that was one of the important moments, and her camera was ready.

  She neared another table occupied by young people, the guys in tuxedos and the girls in different colors of gorgeous dresses. Two guys were flirting with a striking girl in a red gown. There were three other people at the table, a guy and two girls. As Ada raised the camera to take a picture, she realized with a feeling of indescribable panic and dismay that the guy was Eddie Bakare.

  He was listening with a small smile on his face as one of the girls whispered something in his ear, Ada watched, a tight knot in her stomach, was she his current girlfriend? She wondered. She tried to imagine what it would be like if it were she sitting there, whispering something to him, would he be so attentive? Would he look at her with so much interest? She frowned and shook the thought away. What was her business whom Eddie Bakare flirted with? She raised the camera and took a picture just as he looked up, right at her.

  And smiled.

  That perfect smile! With the dimples, Ada took a deep breath, trying and failing to keep her knees from going weak. There is no reason on earth why Eddie Bakare should be able to make you feel this way, she lectured herself sternly, you don’t even like him!

  “Hi Ada.” He said warmly, standing up to greet her, his eyes travelled from her hair to her toes, taking in her state of dress with undisguised surprise and appreciation. She realized he had probably never seen her all dressed up before. “You look beautiful.” He stated with admiration.

  You don’t have to sound so surprised, Ada thought silently. “Thanks.” She said out loud. “It’s just my work attire.” She added wryly, eager to get away. One of the other girls at the table had turned to look at her, probably wondering who on earth she was, and why Eddie Bakare had stood up to greet her.

  The girl who had been whispering in Eddie’s ear was looking up and smiling at Ada, “Hi.” She said, in a voice that was both light and sweet and spoke of years in a British boarding school.

  “This is my cousin, Lola.” Eddie said. “Lola this is Ada, she is the star photographer at Living Lagos.”

  “Only photographer.” Ada corrected, smiling at the girl, she was very young, Ada saw now, too young to be his date as she had assumed. “Nice to meet you, Lola.”

  “I like Living Lagos.” Lola said. “I read every issue when I wasn’t living here. It made me feel close to home.”

  Ada smiled, there was something likable about the soft-spoken girl, but she was eager to get back to work, the girl in the red dress was now looking daggers at her, probably because one of her beaux was giving Ada a speculative look.

  Eddie was too well brought up not to introduce her to his friends, so even as Ada was thinking of a getaway, he was already doing the introductions. “This lot,” He waved in the general direction of the table, “Are some of my unsavory friends.” He smiled at her. “I have a lot of those.”

  There was a chorus of halfhearted waves and hellos from the rest of the table. Ada echoed them with the same level of feeling. “I have to get back to work.” She told Eddie, “See you around.” She added, with a smile at Lola.

  Eddie nodded. “I’m sure we’ll see each other before you leave.” He said. “You look really lovely.” He added, even though he had said so before. Ada smiled uncomfortably and made her escape.

  Later, after she had followed the bride and groom as they stopped by almost every table, to greet and thank people, and took pictures of them with all their friends and relatives, she found a place to sit and rest her legs. There was still music playing, and people were dancing, but there would be no need to get up again until the new couple was ready to leave.

  She felt, rather than saw Eddie walking towards her, his bow tie was now undone, too much dancing? She had seen him on the floor with his friends earlier. She hadn’t known he could dance like that! Watching him dance she had found herself trying hard to remember why she didn’t like him and being unable to come up with any reasons, and now, with his tux so casually undone, she couldn’t imagine any girl not liking him. She shook her head at her wayward thoughts. If she had drank anything at all she would have been able to excuse them on grounds of tipsiness, but it was all him.

  He was holding two wineglasses, and a bottle of wine, he handed her one of the glasses as he sat on a chair beside her.

  “You must be tired,” He observed as he poured her some wine. It was clear and sparkly, and she took it without argument, it was about time she had a drink anyway.

  She nodded in agreement. “I am.”

  He studied her face. “Have you eaten?” He looked concerned.

  Ada shook her head, she had been too busy to eat, but now that he had mentioned it, she felt the dull pangs of hunger in her stomach.

  Eddie was already signaling one of the waiters, this one was carrying small dishes of peppered snails. “I’m sure you’ll like these.” He said, picking up one of the dishes. “Funmi Savage, one of the girls at my table, ate enough of these to feed an army of elephants.” He laughed. “She swore they were too good not to eat.”

  And that means I’ll like them? Ada wanted to ask. But she dug into the snails with relish, too hungry to argue. They were fantastic of course. She found herself silently thanking Funmi Savage, whoever she was, for eating so many snails and yet leaving some for her.

  “Do you do weddings often?” He asked suddenly, his eyes going to the camera still hanging around her neck.

  She nodded. “I get about one a month.”

  “It looks like really strenuous work.” He said with a small frown. “With all that walking around for hours,” He studied her face for a moment. “Do you like it?”

  “I like photography.” She replied.

  He nodded. “But not necessarily wedding photography.” He stated.

  She shook her head. “I like scenery, nature and people.” She told him. “That’s what I’d really like to do all the time.”

  “So why do you do this?” He asked.

  This was the sort of artlessness that his type eventually displayed, Ada thought drily. They didn’t understand that people would work for money because they had never had to. Why else would she do it, when she didn’t particularly like it, if not for the money? All her resentment for people of his kind suddenly rose to the surface. They didn’t have to do anything they didn’t like, they just coasted through life in luxury, with the assurance that nothing and nobody would ever take it away from them, they could have anything they wanted, do anything they wanted. It was annoying.

  She glanced at Eddie, was he different? His father was reputed to be an exceptionally hardworking man, as was he, but the money that had established the family fortunes had come from corruption, from a grandfather who had profited from mismanaging public funds in the seventies. He didn’t have to work. He only did because he enjoyed his work. What had he ever done to deserve that option? Nothing at all, except having the good fortune of being born into a wealthy home, that good fortune that he seemed to think gave him the right to condescend to her and ask her why she did work that she didn’t like.

  She remembered just a week ago, when they had all gone out for drinks to celebrate the ‘Living Lagos’ nomination for the TRANSCEND awards, he had come alone, but one of the girls at the exclusive bar had soon picked up his scent. She was one of his type, young, beautiful, with the all-important foreign accent, she had hung on to him all n
ight, being polite only to Sophie and practically ignoring Ada, Oliver and Fadeke. Those were his people, ultra-privileged, ultra-entitled and ultra-selfish.

  “Somebody has to do it.” She finally replied his question with a small smile.

  He nodded slowly. As if he understood, Ada thought, still resentful.

  “Are you done yet?” He asked. “Or almost done, I could wait and take you home.”

  She gave him a level look. “You don’t have to.”

  He raised a brow. “I know I don’t have to.” He laughed. “I want to.”

  “Why?” She asked. “I’m not one of your... friends.” She glanced over to where his companions were still sitting at their table, laughing and having a good time. She shrugged. “Don’t worry I can manage on my own.” She spared a glance at his face. If her unfriendliness puzzled him, he didn’t show it. “Thanks for the wine,” She continued, “and the snails, but I really have to get back to work now.”

  He studied her for a long moment, his face retained the expression of easy amiability, but his eyes looked as if they were trying to bore into her mind, to read something there, her thoughts perhaps. Ada looked away, maybe it was the wine, but sitting so close to him while he looked at her like that was doing things to her head.

  “You don’t like me very much,” He stated finally. “Do you?”

  It must have been the wine, because, in her right senses, she would never have said what she said, but she had drained her glass, and courage was unlimited. She kept her chin up. “No, I don’t.” She replied flatly.

  “I wonder why,” He said, more to himself than to her. He shrugged and got up. “Alright then.” He said pleasantly. “Enjoy your work.”

  She watched him go with a small, petulant frown. She ought to have felt satisfied that she had put him in his place, but all she felt was childish and ashamed.

  It was dark when Ada finally got home, she had gone along as the new bride was taken to her husband’s family house, and her feet washed before she entered, to show she was no longer a member of her old family, but coming to her new one without the dust of the old one clinging to her feet. She took pictures, and more pictures, until she could hardly stand, then finally it was over and she called a taxi to take her home.