Prologue,

She knew he never would have let her go; just like she knew that when he asked her to stay, and he definitely would, she would probably not want to go. So she did the only thing she knew would make him be the one to leave her; she gambled on the one lie that she was sure would break any bond that he might have chosen to harbor for her after the split. She did what she at the time thought was best for both of them: from there he could concentrate on making a better life for himself and she would be free to start her better life with her daughter. It was not that she wanted to, but more that she had to: at least that was how it started out. But then the terms of contract had changed, it was a seat for one only.

Pamela Masinde had grown up in a trailer park lot; care of an alcoholic father and an abusive mother. Most of her childhood dreams had already been destroyed, either by time or circumstance by the time she was 16. She had seen some things and lived through other things: done things that some people hadn’t had cross their minds even in their sunset years. She promised herself that she would never end up like them. She would not; like her mother be swept off her feet by the handsome blockhead who just so happened to be the captain of the football team, get knocked up and have to resign herself to watching the world go by as she cared for a child that she had only kept because the risk of abortion was more upon her than on the nameless foetus that grew within her. Neither would she like her father be trapped by the demands of a choking relationship that took up all your waking time providing for only to strangle you with meaningless arguments when you got home at night.

No, she would do what she must to reach where she must get. She would use who she would, stop at nothing to achieve her objective, stoop to new lows if she had to realize her perfect life. And she had started well; moving out of home at 17 after her mother tried to pawn her off for a fix of heroine- her latest addiction. She should have known better but she had run and waited for her dad to come home. When she told him, he had slapped her, accusing her of being a whore in his house. After he had tired of hitting them, he had collapsed in his favorite chair and looking her straight in the eye told her that she had to start earning her keep.

Whatever semblance of emotion that she still had for humanity was snuffled that night. She had sneaked out that evening and never looked back. She had hot trailed it across 3 cities in just under 5 years, doing things that she still refused to apologize for; earning herself a host of enemies along the way. A few men had offered to provide for her every need; others had gone as far as professing their undying love. For all of them she felt nothing, for most she did not even give a second thought. But that was before she has landed in Nairobi, before she met the man who had literally saved her life.
She had gotten a ride from Naivasha from a couple who were disgustingly normal, with their feelings hung out for the entire world to see. They had talked much and often, trying to get her to cheer up, and succeeded only in further darkening her mood. She was still brooding about how unfair life was as she walked away from the stage where they had dropped her. Why did she have to be the one wandering aimlessly around a city she did not know in the middle of the bloody night while a woman who could not compare to her beauty on her worst day was driven to some plush home by some mollycoddled man? Why was she the one who would go hungry when fat bitches stuffed their faces in all these fancy restaurants with men who would most probably pay her a visit right after they drove their repugnant asses’ home? That was the only thing on her mind as she ambled further and further from the light, it was that exact question that stopped her from realizing she was not only lost but had just turned into a closed alley.

She might not even have noticed save for the noise that came from behind her and even then her reaction was not immediate. Her left brain identified it as a falling trash can, nothing major; her right side on the other hand quickly recounted the facts. She had been on her own for the most part of her walk down that particular street; there were no cafes, not even the seedy ones for blocks around so there should have been no cats or dogs for about the same cycle- true to which she had seen none as she turned into the side street. Interpretation, she was not alone in that which she now recognized as a dead end alley; and at that time of the night whoever it was could not be friendly. Turning slowly her worst fear was realized. 3 men walked purposefully towards her; fangs bared intentions clear and for the first time in as long as she could recall she knew fear.

She had nothing of value for them to steal, well of course except….. It struck her as ironic. That which they came for, she gave to strangers all the time with little thought of virtue or love. To her it was merely a business transaction. And technically it should have been the same even now, her life for her body, but she couldn’t help but shudder with revulsion. She had built her life around the allure that her body had over men; it was where she derived her confidence and will to live from, if they took that away, she would have nothing but her trailer trash memories and a well worn existence.
She noticed the 4th guy sneak into the alley; he bent down to put something down, or was he picking something up- she couldn’t tell her mind was already going into automatic shutdown, like it did every time sex was involved. She saw him run towards them and a small part of her ego actually smiled, thinking that at least the most handsome of them would be first- he was so taken that he couldn’t wait for the rest to finish. To her surprise though she saw one of her would be assailants fall to the ground; a shocked and frozen expression on his face, just seconds before a second one let out a shrill scream and topple like a sack of something to join his friend in the dirt. Thug number 3 whipped out a blade and turned to face the enemy, brandishing the rusted metal from side to side. The enemy on the other hand cracked his knuckles and held his ground, his gaze never moving from Pamela. The blade sliced at him through the night. He faked left but dodged right while his left leg came up to pound the shoulder holding the weapon. The arm became instantly listless; before the bastard could gather his wits about him, there was an arm choking the color out of his scared expression. The last thing he saw was a large fist headed straight for his face.

“Are you okay?” he had asked her. Pamela was too stunned to talk. It had all happened in like a second. Ask her in the morning and she probably have sworn otherwise, but right in front of her eyes were 3 able bodied men passed out on the ground while one with a not so impressive physique hovered before her. He moved to touch her and she flinched. A frown crossed his face, but as quickly as it had appeared it disappeared. He reached into his back pocket. ‘So that’s what he wanted after all?’ It was only fair, she thought to herself, after all had he not just saved her from a fate just like death? At least with him she could exert some extent of control.

She dropped the strap off one hand and smiled when the guys hand stilled in his pocket. ‘All these bastards were the same, only interested in her flesh. Well she would be fool enough tom let them enjoy it for free.’ His pulled his hand out of the pocket and let it rest on her shoulder. ‘At least it looks big enough and rough enough; she might actually derive some enjoyment from this.’ When at least a minute had passed and there had been no caress she looked up at him. His eyes bored into her with such intensity that her breath literally caught in her throat. Just then his still hand moved, but only to cover her exposed breast, before he reached into his back pocket- again. Only it did not pull out a rubber as she had originally thought but instead came out with a slip of paper which he put in her hand.

“Go there; they will be able to help you.” He had told her and with that he stood up and started to walk away. Pamela looked down and saw an address it. “Fuck you!” She hissed although she wasn’t sure what exactly had pissed her off. Was it that he had so coldly rejected her offer of unbridled erotica, was it that he had the gall to actually pity her or was it the fact that he was destroying the perception of men that she had used to squelch those pangs of guilt that sometimes bubbled to the surface? She could not be sure, in fact she did not even think about it as she launched into her tirade. “Just who the hell do you think you are, huh?” she asked. He stopped. Do you think I needed your help in the first place?” he turned to face her. “I could have handled those sonsofbitches on my own thank you very much.”

“I have no doubt that you would have.” He assured her, “But I had a bone to pick with them.” That knocked her off her crusade a bit. “Oh!” she said as she rallied her thoughts, “well you could have had the decency to wait for your own chance to, not stealing someone else’s.”
“I agree, and I apologize.” The second part of that was accompanied by a deep bow, “It won’t ever happen again.” And that came with a smile so dazzling that she could not be sure whether she stumbled because of the ordeal she had so narrowly escaped or from the effects of his manliness. “Do I look like I need your pity.” She quickly covered. “Do I look like one of those losers who have to look for help from other people? Do I seem to you the type to prostate at your feet looking for a hand out, or kiss ass to get ahead?” God damnit, the bastard was smiling while she ranted. “And what exactly is so damn funny?”

“Oh I don’t know,” he said. “I guess it’s just some time since I saw so much spirit.” Damn! It was hard keeping the mad on when the object of your wrath had not only saved you, but was quietly handsome and came complete with that devastating smile and potent charm. “Look if I pitied you I would have simply given you some money and walked away, my good deed done for the day; if I wanted to take advantage of you, I would have pretended to care and invited you to crash at my place until you were settled; and if I looked down on you I would have sent you to a shelter, where you would be provided for. Instead I have directed you to a safe house where you actually have to earn your stay at the house. Now if you despise your station in life right now you will take the offer and go make something of yourself, if not well you can let it be blown away by the wind while you bitch about how unfair life is. And just so you know, in the capital, nobody gives a shit.”
And just like that she had fallen in love with him. She might not have known it then but in retrospect, she now realized she had loved him probably before she ever met him. She might have stubbed her toe on it that first night, tripped into it when he actually went to check up on her after she had joined the safe house, stumbled a bit when she got to know him better and fallen face first into love when he had told her he cared. It had been a glorious 5 years; she had never known such complete peace, never dreamt of an all consuming love, never imagined that she could want to protect a bond that fiercely. But when faced with the option between the serene life she already had and opulence promised, she had made her choice; one that she now had to live with.

HiStory,
It had been a long time coming. It had been hard and at times impossibly bleak but he had persevered for the sake of his family, just as she had pushed him to realize his dream and his daughter had always been the inspiration he needed to scale the most daunting of mountains. He walked out of the house pockets full of gadgets, arms loaded with his supplies, English muffin clamped in his mouth. This was definitely going to be a tough day. It had been a while since he had gone out on a job himself but this particular client had been adamant that he was the only one to do it. And the call from his good friend and long time client hadn’t hurt either, so here he was about to juggle an 8:00am meeting with his board, rush all the way across town to work on a quarter acre piece of land that needed to be ready by midday and be in the office at 2:00 for a conference call with some potential strategic partners; and all this while attending to his regular duties. Not to mention that it was he was supposed to attend his baby’s first recital at 5:00pm and it was his turn to make dinner too.

Any other man would feel suffocated under all this pressure; most would run at the first chance. But he was not like other men, never had been. Where you saw pressure, he saw family. Of course it hadn’t always been like that. His most prominent memories were of the street side kids at the shopping mall. They had been the closest thing to a home that he had come into the world knowing. He had gone hungry more often than he had eaten. He had been beaten and robbed by other street kids whenever his scrounges in the Dandora garbage heap proved fruitful. So he had learnt to fight early; to stand up for himself- to protect what was his. But even then he knew that he was not going to be there for long; he had understood that he was but at a station in the journey of life. And that the destination he would ultimately arrive at, would depend solely on which direction he chose to travel. With that in mind, he had started collecting trash at age 13; after all, he spent most of the day forging in trash bins around town trying to find food- why not use the opportunity to dispose of the trash in exchange for a little consideration from the owners? After all it’s not like the city’s bin agency was any good. After 2 years he discovered the merits of recycling. That had more than doubled his daily wage.
He still remembered the day he had walked into the bank to deposit his first savings. He had gone to the city’s only river and taken a thorough scrub, not that that was saying much seeing how grimy the water was but beggars could not be choosers, put on the best clothes he owned with shoes he had found recently. He had walked into the banking hall and immediately drew the attention of the manager who after a brief word with the guards had walked over to him and asked him to leave. He could not understand at first; was it that they could not recognize him coz of the bath he had taken? Surely wasn’t he the one who had disposed of their trash 3 times a week without fail for the past year and a half? it was his first encounter with the ugly side of human nature; he knew that the manager did not want the trash collector to be seen banking in the same hall as his esteemed customers but he couldn’t understand it- wasn’t his money the same as any of the ones all those people in the line had? Why was it any different?
But it was also where he had discovered the beauty of the human soul. There had been a woman walking out of the hall around the same time as he was entering and she saw what happened. When Vincent walked out of the bank tears stinging his eyes, she was there waiting.

“Tell you what.” She had said, “Why don’t you give me that money and I will keep it for you?” he had been a street child all his life and so his trust of man should have been next to nil. But there was an honesty in the lady’s eyes, a sincerity in her voice that made him trust her. A decision that turned out to be the best he had ever made. Over the course of the next 3 months they would meet once a week outside the same bank branch, where she would take the money he had made and bank it under the account she had opened for him before taking him out to lunch where he would regale her with tales of his escapades on the streets that week. When he turned 17 she had asked him to move in with her, but only on condition that he would take the secondary school exam. “Yeah, in case you haven’t noticed I live on the street, I have lived on the streets my entire life.” “And…you think that would make me not trust you?” she had wanted to know and he was sorely tempted to answer in the affirmative. “I have never set foot inside a classroom since I was born; going into 1 now is not only pointless, it’s sad.”
“I have known you for 2 years now,” she had said “and in that time you have proven to be smarter than most graduates that I know.” That had made him smile; he had noticed that he tended to smile a lot where she was concerned. “You have a better command of English than most people I know, you speak better Swahili than I do, and you work wonders with numbers. With a mind like that I am sure Chemistry will be a breeze and you have on more than one occasion excelled at Physics.” That was met with a blank stare “All the appliances and contraptions you have either fixed or put up for me. Seriously Vin, all you need is just a little tutoring and you could go places.” But he still was not convinced and when she noticed that she was losing him she had offered a compromise. She would organize for him to get access her school’s books and facilities for a year and then sit for the exam at year’s end as a private candidate. In exchange he would get a roof over his head and an average of what he used to make while disposing of trash and selling recycle materials. “It doesn’t matter whether you pass or fail, just as long as you have the certificate.” She had told him, though they both knew that was a load of crock. As the principal of a prestigious academy, nay as an educator, there was no doubt that she wished that he would excel. Not that she needed worry; he had brought himself up with the mantra ‘anything worth doing should be done well.’ so there was no chance that he would let the system beat him. He opted to wait an extra year but she had given him his first real shot at life. And 16 years later she had gone and done it again; leaving him everything she owned.

“Honey?” his wife called from the door as he opened the door to his truck, “Aren’t you forgetting something.” He snapped out of his little reverie, dropped his baggage on the passenger seat and ran back to the door to give his wife of 2 years a long meaningful kiss. “Well, wow!”She breathed. “That’s not exactly what I was referring to but thank you anyway.” “Huh?” he asked. “Good luck at your presentations today.” She said. “Thanks babe.” he said already turning towards the car. “I swear if your head wasn’t screwed on…” in her hand she held both his palm pilot which carried his conference call details and presentation for the investors as well as a file that had the performance and projections for his board. “I knew I had forgotten something.” He said reaching for them; she pulled them out of his reach. “Ah ah boyfriend, if you want these, then I’m demanding payment.” And since there was a twinkle in her eyes, he pushed her up against the door and moved in close. “And what exactly did you have in mind miss?” he whispered as his hands roamed her back and his tongue explored her neck. “Stop it.” She laughed. “Not here, not now.” “Why?” He wanted to know ad dear God so did she. “I thought you wanted payment for them” “Um yeah…ooh, ah huh… right there. That’s not fair; you know my neck is sensitive.” She managed when she finally pushed him away. “I will settle for one of these and the promise of more tonight.” She declared as she slid into his arms for a brief kiss and a warm embrace.

Her – Story,
She waved at him until he turned down the street before going to get their daughter ready for another day at school. As she walked towards her frantic baby’s room she couldn’t help but smile. Who would have thought that Plain Jane from down the street would have tales more than ordinary for the rest of her life? She had grown up in a middle class home with working class parents; an auditor father and a school teacher mother, in a nice neighborhood and gone to respectable schools where she joined the expected clubs ad got acceptable grades. At 19, while participating in a track event she had seen herself becoming her parents. And as much as loved them, truth be told their lifestyle was drab. They never did anything notable, they didn’t even argue; her father would have been arch enemies with whoever depicted spontaneity and her mother was the opposite of whatever was exciting. She did not want to end up like them. She did not want to be trapped in a life with no life. But as she got older she realized hers was taking pretty much the direction theirs took and she seemed to be helpless to change that. That was then. Now she had a hysterical 10 year old girl who was every bit her own as the woman who had birthed her who loved her and that she doted on and an impulsive husband she was crazy about and whom she was sure adored her. She had her dream job and the best family in the world- funny that before they met she did not even like going to parties.
She met him at a friend’s party, one that she was dragged to about 3 years back. He was standing in the middle of this huge crowd and everyone was gripped by whatever saga he was recounting. “He’s cute.” She remembered one of the girls she was standing with say. “And he has a tight butt … body. I mean in an absolutely health relate way.” Offered another who had introduced herself as a gym instructor and who she was sure had also said she was married. And looking at him was quite something. He captivated even the interest of people who were all the way across the room and had no way whatsoever of hearing his voice. Maybe it was his expansive arm gestures or maybe it was his abrupt movements or maybe it was the way his expression changed with the scenes in his tale. Martha was sure a lot more was said of the dashing young man that had accompanied Miss Ismail to the party. But she couldn’t help but feel that she knew something that other people didn’t. They saw what was on the surface and not what lay underneath. Sure he was handsome and had a beautiful smile and was intriguing, but he was also dead inside. You could see it but only if you looked into his eyes. Whilst everything else changed and shifted with the story his eyes remained the same: lifeless.
She had sought him ought and when she could not ‘accidentally run into him’ at any one of the places where people were sure they usually saw him, she had walked into Miss Ismail’s office and asked for his number. She had smiled knowingly and instead called her son and after a brief catch up handed her the phone. Martha was so shocked her voice stuck in the throat and her mind turned to mush. She would never forget their first conversation; one sided though it was. After he had said “Hallo?” a couple of times with no response, he had proceeded to make them a date. “Hallo?” he had said for the last time. After a spell, he mimicked a female voice “Hi, sorry the cat literally got my tongue.” “Oh so you love cats too?” he’d asked in his own voice. “I’m more of a dog person myself but I love all them little critters the same.” Then he turned back into her. “Exactly, I figure why not have both if you can’t decide on 1, right?” “I don’t know who you are lady, but did my mum put you up to this? Did she tell you exactly what to say to me?” he wanted to know.
“No! Silly, if anything she has made it extremely clear that the one thing you cannot condone are people who are not honest, apparently you feel the same way about liars as I do about politicians.” :”Oh my God.” He had exploded. “I think I might have found my soul mate. But just so I am sure my mum isn’t feeding you lines, why don’t we hook up say…..today evening; its Friday and neither of us is working tomorrow so even if we decide we like each other enough to share a meal and some drinks and then go dancing afterwards to burn the calories off, no one is worse for wear in the morning.” “I’d love to,” his female alter-ego had stammered but “This is a big step for me, you know? 3 dates in 1 night is a lot to ask of a woman.” “So I take it that’s a no?” he asked. “It might be depending on how you answer the following questions: Tea or coffee?”
“Tea for breakfast, chocolate for snacks and coffee for dates.” “Wood or marble?” “Woman, are you out of your marbles, wood would win any day.” “Bruce Lee or Jet Li?” “I’m sorry that is so not a question, how could you possibly compare the lethal poetry of Jet Li’s attacks to the Bruce’s brute power?” “Dinner or a movie?” “What’s wrong with a movie and then dinner?” “Oh my! I am so giddy right now; you could knock me down with a feather. Get this right and I just might marry you. European or Chinese cuisine?” “I’d go with Chinese.” He said. “Because I am sure you would go with European, and it’s no fun me picking from your plate if we are both eating oriental, now is it?” “Pick me up at 5:00pm outside the school with a vicar and two rings; I will bring the 3 witnesses.” She remembered smiling as she put down the phone and laughing all the way back to her classroom. She was giddy all afternoon in anticipation of her date.
In the days to follow she saw the eyes more and more and even though everything seemed to be fine, in fact more than fine she could not let it go. She was not going to sweep it under the rug and pretend like it was okay when something so obviously wasn’t; she would not be her parents. She first asked him 3 months after they started dating and his response was to get up and walk away. He kept away from her for 2 weeks, didn’t call or text her and wouldn’t return her mail or chat messages. When she couldn’t take it anymore she had called to ask Miss Ismail what could have happened to kill someone’s soul that much. “Not one to meddle, she had told her nothing; instead she invited her over to dinner giving her directions as to where to go. “ Martha rang the bell promptly at 8:00am and was answered by the cutest 7 year old girl. “Are you going to be my new mommy.” She had inquired outright. “Honey, who is at the door?” Boomed Vincent’s voice a second before he pulled the door all the way open. After a strained dinner, Miss. Ismail had offered to take Daniella out for ice cream. “Oh for crying out loud, it’s the weekend and don’t worry, if it takes too long she can just sleep over at my place.” She chided when it seemed like he was hesitant.
And that night she heard all about how he had met and fallen in love with Daniella’s mother and how she had chosen to leave them for a life of money. “I don’t blame her.” He had said. “No! no you don’t.” she had concurred but because of her you have shut yourself off from everyone else emotionally.” She had returned. “Almost everyone.” She amended before he had a chance to protest. “The only time you seem to be real to me is when you are with your mother and tonight, with your daughter, is the first time I have actually seen a smile reach your eyes.” He was quiet for a long time and then he got up to go fill up their wine glasses. When he sat back down he had this far away expression on his face and it took quite a while more before he said. “She likes you.” At first she didn’t follow who he was referring to. “My daughter,” he said fully turning to face her. “She likes you, which is saying a lot. I trust her and I have to consider her, so when she does not jive with any woman I bring home and that happens often, I have to walk away.” “Oh!” was all she could say. “This is why I put off introducing you to her for so long.”
“Why?” she had croaked out. “Why she asks! Why? Because I like you… a lot. And I was afraid that she would not accept you and I didn’t know how I would deal with that. Because I love her and after her mother left, it has just been the 2 of us and if it is within my power I will give her what she wants. But I can’t bear to lose you either because you are the best thing that has happened to me in a long time and…” she had put a finger to his lips then and no kiss had ever been as sweet or as savage, as patient or as hungry as the one that had followed. She had not been sure whether she was ready to let herself fall for someone who came with so much baggage, but after he had run through the story of his life; from his earliest memories through his meeting with and subsequent adoption by Miss Ismail to the present day, she just couldn’t help herself. She had been saving herself for marriage all these years but felt that what she had just shared with this man who so completely covered her soul, was more than any vows or golden bands could ever signify. And that was enough for her.
They woke up to the sounds of a child’s laughter and the smell of sizzling bacon. After a harried shower they had both headed downstairs and found Miss Ismail on the stove while Daniella set the table. “Danny, you need to finish up that homework or else you will get a smaller than usual portion of eggs.” Miss Ismail had told her granddaughter. “But that is so unfair gran-gran, I’ve done them all except this last part that is so not supposed to be for my grade.” Maybe it was just the picturesque way they were all standing in that sunlit kitchen or maybe it was the obvious love that was evident between them or maybe it was the fabulous sex she had just woken up from, but she heard her voice ring out, “Here let me help you. You see Math is actually lots of fun…” And just like that they became family.

The end,
She had been parked outside, in the space between the target house and the neighbor’s yard for a while. She was trying to work up the courage to approach the house; and that was the easy part, after she knocked on the door she had no idea what to say to whoever opened it. So far every angle she opted for came back to the same opening, “Hallo, I know you probably don’t know me but I used to be married to one of your workers….the reason you have not seen me before is because I left him years ago in search of a better life…oh no I actually achieved my dream but realized that not only did I love him, I also missed our simple life together…yes that’s why I look like his daughter…would you mind giving us a minute alone?” and being who he was she was sure he had already warmed his way into their hearts; why else would they allow him to move in, with his daughter none the less, to their house in an exclusive suburb?
She wasn’t supposed to feel this way, about either of them! And yet here she was parked outside of her baby daddy’s address. She had moved through life with one ambition and one ambition only- to live rich. When she met him 11 years ago, he was supposed to be a mark; she had convinced herself that she was the one using him in order to further herself. When she found herself constantly thinking of him, she convinced herself that it was because she was just worried about where her next meal would come from; when she found that it was his attention that she craved more than anything in life, she persuaded herself that it was simply because she needed a sounding board and which better than the smart man he was?; when she shared her joy with him in both the very simple and most primal of ways, she told herself that it was because every man needed his ego assuaged. And when she got pregnant by him assured herself that it was because she wanted to clamp a hold on him before some other bitch got her claws in him; not that she really cared about him, but rather she did not want anyone messing with her rainbow until she reached its pot of gold.
So when one of the regular patrons at the club had taken an interest in her she had wasted no time ensuring that he knew she was available. It was not rocket science; a hot and wealthy heir or a cute and sweet gardener. So she flirted and flaunted, laughed at stale jokes and pouted, made all the requisite noises and comments until she was sure that the man was totally drunk with her. When her rich beau finally proposed she had wasted no time telling her live in boyfriend that her daughter and her would be moving on. He had tried to protest but she had shut him down. That look, the one he had given her when she told him that she had never loved him; that she had only used him to get to that point was nothing compared to the one that followed after she lied to him about their daughter’s paternity. If there had been pain for the former then it was death which accompanied the latter claim. She had seen the light dim in his eyes and could have sworn that she saw the smile lines on his face hardened with hate, but she couldn’t be bothered to care about that; wouldn’t be bothered to. She had a chance and she was going to take it. He had left that night, where to, she did not know, and left her packing up their stuff.
But things don’t always go as planned. Her beau refused to father another man’s child, in fact he refused to father any child and so she had a second choice here; keep the child or take the life. She had opted for option number 2, a decision she sorely regretted. She spent 2 years being swept up by the trips and gifts and parties and people while sweeping under the carpet any thoughts of or emotions of the man she had jilted and the 4 year old she had left behind. She wanted so much to believe that she had made the right choice that she pointedly ignored all the signs that showed her new husband was serially unfaithful. She busied herself with committees and causes and events and found that bit by bit she had reverted back to that trailer park girl she had so despised. It was around this time that memories of her rebirth had started to haunt her. Whereas her husband did not want her as much as admitting to his colleagues that she had once worked as a cocktail waitress, Vinny had been unaffected when it came out that she had been a Commercial Sex Worker. He had told his friends that she had made a mistake, like all men were prone to but that from it she had learnt and she had grown and if anyone had an issue with it they could go hang.
But still she had held on to the illusion of grandeur and continued to make excuses for almost 2 years more. Until finally one night she had been woken up by a tune; at first she had thought that Charles had forgotten to turn of the music system. A little later it struck her that the song seemed to be looped on one part of the lyrics. Her eyes flew open in the dark and though she lay unmoving, Alicia’s words came clearly to her “…you give him one more chance just like the time before, but he already knows you’ll give a hundred more. Until that night in bed you wake up in a sweat, you’re racing to the door- can’t take it anymore…” Question that remained once she realized that was whether this would be another sad love story with broken hearts and lost loves or whether 50 years later Vincent and her would sit on a beach somewhere and call it a lesson learned. So the next morning she had commissioned a PI firm to track Vincent and Daniella down. It had taken more than a year, but when 3 days prior he had called on her to deliver his final report; she had wasted no time boarding a plane from Raleigh to Kenya to find them.
Of course not everything in the report could be factual, what with the man claiming that the address outside of where she was parked was Vinny’s and not his employer’s; but that could be overlooked, provided he actually could be found there. So she sat and waited for God only knows. The door to the house opened and a tall, slender, caramel skinned lady with long ebony hair and a striking resemblance to Keri Hilson stepped out. She had what Pamela assumed was mug of coffee in one hand and a phone in the other. She was in an animated conversation and seemed to be smiling a lot. She was looking over her car, down the street, and Pamela congratulated herself again on the foresight to watch the house in a car with tinted windows. ‘Beautiful.’ She thought and from the dress sense classy. She had an easy way about her and a confident gait that indicated a career woman and a good one at that. The type of woman that Pam dearly detested: it was unfair for you to be that rich and still be so happy. ‘She probably has a thing for Vinny.’ She thought. ‘Yeah she must be married to some somber bastard who was about as interesting as a door knob and so passed the night dreaming about Vinny and her day flirting with him. He was probably the one she was on the phone with even then.’ She convinced herself.
A black beamer came up the drive and parked across the street and she saw the woman move towards it. The door opened before the come had fully come to a stop and a perfect little angel jumped out giggling with glee, “Mama!” she cried out and leapt out of the car. A tear slid down her cheek and emotion swelled in her breast as she saw her little girl, who of course after 6 years was no longer all that little, run towards her. But she ran right past the car and jumped into Keri Hilson’s arms, hugging her fiercly and wiggling away as she was smothered with sloppy kisses.
“Mummy, it was just the best.” Daniella gushed. “I knew all the words and I was not scared at all..okay maybe a little before I saw daddy in the front row. He was right there in the middle and he kept smiling and clapping even when I got some of them wrong.” Martha looked at her daughter with pride, love and just a tinge of envy; a combination only a mother could pull off. She was so proud that her baby girl was coming out of her shell, she loved the fact that she had found something that she could be so passionate about and she was envious of her extreme belief in herself. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t come baby.” “That’s right, how comes you weren’t there?” Daniella remembered. “I had an unexpected visitor show up at my office out of the blue and then I had to drive over to some school in Buruburu to chair a meeting.” Since her move to the Ministry of Education about 7 months ago she was getting more and more time carved away from her family commitments and it was starting to affect her relationship with her daughter. Vincent didn’t complain; claimed to understand that it was the demands of the job, but she could not accept that. He might have been okay about her building up her career and all, but she wasn’t, not at the expense of their time together. Sometimes she wished he could just stop being so goddamn sweet; you know be a bastard, throw a tantrum, tell her he wanted her home more.
But she knew that would not likely happen any time soon. If he felt that there wasn’t enough time for them he would make it, he always did. Like that year’s valentine when she told him she had to work to beat a deadline he hadn’t complained. Instead he had sent a bouquet of flowers in the morning, a basket of fruit in the afternoon and had taken her a picnic basket for dinner. That was what she loved most about him, but it was also the one thing about him that drove her crazy. “But don’t worry honey, I have a surprise for both you and daddy.” She told Daniella, “Speaking of which, where is your father? How comes he is not leaving the car?” Daniella pointed back and whispered conspirationaly, “He says he has to go back to the office and work on some things.” She looked over her shoulder and then added in a loud stage whisper. “I’m not supposed to tell you this but, I was supposed to come out the car with my bag so that he could drive away.” “Is that so?” Martha asked as she pressed redial on the phone. “What is this nonsense about you having to go back to the office?” she asked in the most severe tone she could muster at the time. I mean come on, it was pretty funny; a grown man that she had seen floor 2 vagabonds who had tried to get fresh with her the week before was too scared to tell her to her face that he would not be joining her the dinner she had slaved over because he had to work. “Vincent Ismail, you had better open that door right now and explain yourself.”
He had suspected that his plan would fail; Daniella did not take well to having time with her parents interrupted, even as she recounted the strategy to his little girl. He knew he had been sold out when he saw her glance back at the car and whisper something to Martha. “Oh darn!” he muttered and locked the car doors. His car phone rang. It was one thing dealing with an irate wife while telling her that you would not attend your family dinner and it was quite another dealing with her 5 hours after you stood up Friday night dinner. “There’s no need for that dear we can just talk over the phone.” He said after listening to her opening remarks. “Like hell there isn’t! You open this door now or I swear to God…” “Sweety, I really have to get this report done by tonight in order to send it out tomorrow morning. I have no choice…” “No choice, my luscious lips. Last time I checked you were CEO of your own company; meaning you can pretty much do whatever the hell you like.” She knew that he had that cute crinkle on his forehead as he replied. “I did not start up this company with the policy that once in management you can slack off.” “Neither did you start up the company with people who were unable to be delegated to.”
She knew she had him when he took a deep breath and said ‘shit’. So she started towards the car. “Did you just curse at me?” “No of course not. But I still have to go…” He began. “No you don’t. Have Anna mail them over, being the efficient PA that she is I am sure she will not leave the office until she sees you get back. “They are hard copies.” He said. “I brought home my old fax machine today, so she can fax them over.” There was a brief pause, “There was never any chance of me winning this argument, was there?” “Not a snowball’s chance in hell.” She affirmed. “Now open this door.” “Why? I am coming out. ” Knowing the reaction it would have on Daniella, she turned around and said it so that she could hear. “Why do I need you to open the door for me? Because I want to make out with my husband before we go in for dinner.” Danni made a gagging noise and ran into the house shrieking “The horror! The horror!” shouting after their fleeing daughter she added. “Preferably in a conducive environment.”
Vincent stepped out of the car first, his laptop bag bulging with paperwork, his coat draped over his arm and his daughters school bag slung over his shoulder. He came around the car and opened the door for a visibly flushed Martha and offered his arm. “Well,” she said, patting her hair back in place and fanning herself. “I would like very much to continue this conversation at a later date in a more appropriate venue.” “You wish my dear.” He said giving a mock bow and waiting until she started carping, “Oh so now because I made you not go back to the office you are going to get me all flushed and then do nothing abo…” before he continued- “And I facilitate that very wish.” “Well.” She said again before she took o a new hue of blush. “You know I love you.” She said as they reached the door, “And I you.” He replied as he shut it. “
Pamela lost all sense of reality when she saw him. She had fretted while waiting in the car; would he be the same? Would 5 years have changed him? Was he happy? Would he ever forgive her? Was there any chance of them getting back together? That little episode that had just played out in front of her though left her with no uncertainty whatsoever. The answers to her questions were written on the wall with bold gold letters and they were: No; he was much more handsome than she remembered, Yes; he had so much more vitality now, Yes; he seemed ecstatic, No; he would probably still hate her while she was burning in hell, No; she had more of a chance getting Mandela to turn white.
Knowing this, she should have backed away from the curb and driven back to her lack luster existence with a man who constantly demeaned her, often cheated on her and would never care about her. She should have swallowed the pie she had baked herself and gone on to become one of those typical rich men’s wives. The type who had too much money and not enough affection; the type who lived an empty shell of a life occasioned by lavish parties, worldwide shopping sprees and friends who didn’t really give a damn about you. But no, she stayed parked out there. She knew it was a long shot. But she felt that if only he could forgive her, if maybe he could tell her that they were okay, then she could move on. But she knew that was a lie. How could she ever go back to pretending that her existence had any real substance when the life she had departed had so much meaning?
The man she had turned her back on had his own company, and by the looks of things- read luxury European car and palatial suburban home, was in the league of the rich and famous. His celebrity look alike wife was not only fabulous to look at, it seemed that she could give him and her daughter everything that Pamela never could or rather chose not to. Tears of loss, tears of longing, tears of regret all flowed freely down from hr aching head to pool at her wounded heart. Skies which had erstwhile been clear and sunny turned dark and gray, almost as though to mirror her mood and when the rain started to fall, she couldn’t help thinking that this was fate’s way of rubbing it in. She had loved; she had lost and now had to content herself with fantasies of what might have been.
A ringing phone jolted her out of her self pity. She composed her mind, drained the tears from her voice and took 3 deep breaths before answering. Her husband might have been a shameless philanderer but he did not brook her as much as flirting with any other man and a broken girl on the other end of the line would constitute more than just harmless flirting. “Hallo?” she said. “Are you going to sit in the car even in this pouring rain, or would you like to come in for a hot cup of cocoa.” Vincent asked. She looked up and saw him standing at the foot of the open door with an umbrella in hand. His wife looked on from behind him, her arm territorially encircling his waist while Daniella hugged her around the hips. That was a family; and she had long since burnt any bridge that would have offered her a place there. She opened the door and stepped out in the downpour hoping that the rain would mask the fresh batch of tears. Vincent reached her in a few quick strides. She took a quick glance at the two ladies by the door, waiting for their man of the house, and resignation sunk in, completely swathing the regret. He needed to make this right by her, probably as much as she needed closure.
This would be the final chapter in the book of her life. She had lived hard, she had loved deeply and then she had lost greatly. Now all that was left was REGRET.

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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 11.01.2010

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