After the storm (46 page)

Hasan
eyed him slyly. "I know another lady who cooks very well too. Her
name is Yemi Kadiri. Would you know her, by any chance?"

"Not
sure, but I've got a very good cook at home by the name of Bassey
Ekeng."

"I've
eaten several types of food from acclaimed chefs worldwide, but no
one does it like a loving wife."

"The key
words there are 'loving' and 'wife,'" Akeem pointed out. "Mine
doesn't love me. She's about to divorce me."

"Go
after your wife, A. K.," Hasan said sombrely. "Pursue her like you
did at the beginning. She's bound to give in."

He
ignored Hasan's comment. "Tell me more about this new project of
yours. When do you start exactly?"

"We're
planning to…" He stopped. Akeem's phone was vibrating.

Akeem
looked at the caller ID. It was the minister's personal assistant.
He mouthed the minister's name to Hasan, and the latter raised his
brows questioningly. Akeem shrugged; he didn't know why the
assistant was calling either. Probably to fix another
appointment.

"Mr.
Kadiri, Honourable Dankaro can see you today after all," the
assistant said when Akeem connected the call. "He has an hour free
this afternoon at 1:30 p.m., if that is okay with you."

Akeem
looked at his watch, it was almost noon. He was definitely going to
miss his flight to Lagos if he saw the minister. "I'll be there,"
he said.

"I think
it is better that you see him," Hasan agreed when Akeem told him
what the personal assistant had said to him. "Who knows when you
will get another appointment with him?"

"I
know," Akeem said. "Why don't we both push our flights back to
later this evening so that we can still fly back
together?"

"Hmmm…could work. Fayona's handling an event and won't be
home until much later anyway."

Akeem
grinned slyly. "At least we know she won't be pining for you."
Fayona had recently started an events planning business. Both Sara
and Fayona had been motivated by Yemi's success in her business,
and that had prompted them to start their own businesses
too.

"Go get
your wife back. Then you can talk to me about pining."

Hasan
called his personal assistant to reschedule their flights. While he
was doing that, Akeem placed a call to his driver and asked him to
return back to the hotel. He didn't want to take chances with
traffic.

He had
been right not to have gotten himself into a twist earlier on, he
thought to himself as he made his way back into the minister's
reception office about an hour later. Things always worked out with
a little bit of patience.

Just as
he was waiting to be called in for his appointment, his phone
beeped. It was Hasan.

"Sorry,
A. K., I'm going to catch the earlier flight after all. Some things
have come up, and I have to get to Lagos on time today so that I
can start dealing with them first thing in the morning."

"Oh, all
right then," Akeem responded, his eyes moving towards the door. The
assistant was already motioning to him that the minister was ready
to see him.

"The
other flight is still on as scheduled by my office. See you in
Lagos, bro."

"Take
care," Akeem said and disconnected the call, before walking into
the minister's office.

∞∞∞

A few
hours later, Akeem glanced at his wristwatch. He was happy that he
had decided to stay behind for the meeting. The minister had been
amiable, and the meeting had gone very well.

But now
he had over four hours to kill before his flight back to Lagos.
That had been the earliest flight Hasan could arrange on such short
notice.

"Take me
to Navagne, please," he told the driver. He would just relax at the
club before leaving for the airport. He didn't have any luggage to
check in and would only need to go through security.

He ordered drinks when he got to the club and sat back to
relax. He leafed through his copy of the
Times
magazine. Glancing up casually
a few minutes later, his eyes were arrested by a tall, slim lady
making her way into the lounge. Similar height and build, but it
wasn't her. He kicked himself mentally, angry at his thoughts. What
would Yemi be doing here anyway? he asked himself, feeling
irritated.
Someday I'll be able to purge
that lady completely from my system.
He
took a sip of his drink and forced his mind back to the
magazine.

"Mr.
Akeem Kadiri?"

He
looked up. It was the lady he had seen earlier. "Hello?"

She
smiled. "Whoa! Thought it was you. I'm Shola Dougherty," she said,
extending her hand towards him.

He clasped her hand while giving her a quick
look-over.
Pretty lady
. "Pleasure meeting you."

"I'm a
huge fan of yours!" she gushed. "I think what you're doing in the
telecoms industry is amazing!"

He
smiled. "Thanks, you're kind." He could see the look of interest in
her eyes as she looked at his bare fingers.

"Can I
join you? I came to see my brother. He owns this place. Just
checked on him but he's busy at the moment."

"Of
course you can." Akeem pulled out a chair for her. He had some time
to kill. What better way to spend it than with a pretty lady? "You
live in Abuja?" he asked.

"That's
correct, but I also have a home in Lagos."

He
listened to her talk about herself, all the while thinking that her
resemblance to Yemi ended in her height and build, because Yemi
would never chat up a strange guy, even if he was the president of
the United States.

Her
brother came into the bar a little while later. He came over to say
hello to Akeem, but Shola didn't seem interested in seeing him
anymore. Akeem was amused to see the look that passed between Shola
and her brother. She was a pretty lady, but he didn't think he was
going to pursue it any more than that. He was still thinking of
going after Lois. He was fond of her, and she got on well with his
daughter. They could work something out.

An hour
and a half later, it was time to head to the airport. He exchanged
phone numbers with Shola. It was then that he remembered that his
phone had been on silent since his meeting with the minister. He
picked it out of his pocket to reset it, only to find several
missed calls from Fola.

"Akeem!
Is that you?" Fola sounded agitated when he returned the
call.

The guy
was calling his direct line. Who else could it be? "What's going
on?" He had never heard Fola sound so ruffled in all the time that
he had known him.

Fola
sounded relieved. "There's been a plane crash! Your assistant said
you changed your travel plans, but I had to make sure. The plane
that crashed was the original flight you were scheduled to
take…"

Akeem's
heart froze. "Hold on, Fola," he cut in abruptly. "Are you sure of
what you are saying?"

"It's on
the news! Has been flashing every few minutes for a while now.
Where are you?"

Akeem
could not answer. Some soft music was playing in the car. "Change
to a news channel, Peter," he almost shouted at the
driver.

His
heart was thudding hard against his chest. He opened his briefcase
with shaky hands and brought out the initial boarding pass to
confirm the flight number of the plane he had been meant to
catch.

"Where
are you, Akeem?" Fola asked again. His voice sounded faint over the
phone, as Akeem was no longer holding it to his ear.

He could
not answer. He waited impatiently for news of the crash. There was
a commercial going on and then just afterwards, the news flash came
on. He strained his ears to listen and then looked at the flight
details on the boarding pass. His heart stopped
momentarily.

"Akeem,
are you still there?" Fola asked again.

Akeem's
head felt woozy. He didn't know when he disconnected the call to
Fola. "Take me to NiconNoga hotel," he said shakily to the
driver.

It
couldn't be true. Hasan could not be on that flight! He dialled his
number frantically several times on the way to the hotel. It kept
going to voice mail.

"C'mon,
Hasan, pick up your phone!" he said desperately over and over
again. "Pick up, man!" he repeated as he kept redialling the
number.

When he
arrived at the hotel, he almost ran into the reception in his haste
to get in. From the sombre looks on the faces of the staff at the
reception, he knew they were already aware of the plane crash
too.

"Please,
I'd like to see Mr. Hasan Idris," he told the receptionist and gave
her Hasan's room number. He was hoping against hope that he would
be told to go right up.

The
receptionist checked the computer. "I'm afraid Mr. Idris has
already checked out."

"About
what time did he leave?" Akeem asked, still clinging on to hope.
Hasan had two plane tickets after all. He might have just left for
the airport a few minutes ago and wanted to surprise
Akeem.

The
receptionist seemed hesitant about giving him information about a
customer. She looked towards a guy who appeared to be a more senior
member of staff. The guy nodded.

"He left
here about four hours ago," she replied.

Akeem
gripped the edge of the reception desk tightly. The room seemed to
be closing in on him.

"Are you
okay, sir?" the guy that appeared to be the head receptionist
asked.

He
nodded even though he didn't feel like it. He held up a hand in
silent thanks to the lady who had given him the information. At the
same time, his phone rang again. It was Fola.

"Akeem,
are you okay? Are you still in Abuja?"

"I am,"
he replied, inhaling and exhaling deeply. The faces of Fayona,
Jayden, and Farah swam before him in slow motion. How would he face
them?

The
reception staff was looking at him, their faces registering concern
and curiosity.

He
forced his feet to move towards the entrance.

"Akeem?"
Fola was still on the line. He was sounding worried.

"Fola, I
think my friend, Hasan, was on that flight."

Chapter
25

Yemi
tried to keep herself busy in Fayona and Hasan's house. It was the
only way to keep herself from breaking down in tears. Sara and some
other close friends were doing the same. Everyone was doing stuff,
tidying, serving drinks, and whatever else needed to be done.
Hushed voices. Averted faces. Eyes reddened from frequent trips to
the bathroom to cry secretly.

She
looked over at Fayona. Many times Fayona simply stared into space;
other times tears flowed unchecked down her cheeks. Yemi bit her
lower lip. How would Fayona cope with the loss of her adoring
husband?

She had
heard about Akeem almost taking the same flight, and the news had
shaken her to her very core. He had been in and out of the house
several times that day, trying to help coordinate things for
Hasan's funeral.

"I'm
really sorry, Akeem," she had said, going to him when she first saw
him. His Giorgio Armani sunglasses were constantly on his face,
whether indoors or outdoors. Her heart filled with compassion at
what he must be going through. She knew how close they had
been.

"He
is…was your friend too," he replied quietly. "Still spoke of you
yesterday."

She had
choked up then. The lump in her throat was too painful. "Can't
believe he's gone," she said as a tear drifted down her cheek.
Another one followed in quick succession.

"I can't
either," he replied, taking her hand in his and squeezing it
gently. They talked for a few more minutes, and then he had to go
and attend to other things.

The
funeral was held a week later. Fayona's short eulogy to her husband
moved anyone who was still dry-eyed to tears.

"I can't
say good-bye because there are no good-byes between soulmates," she
said, staring at his coffin. "But I know where you are, and honey,
someday we'll be together again…"

Her eyes
had been dry, as if she was too spent to cry anymore. But that had
changed when she got back home. It was as if it just dawned on her
afresh that her husband was really gone. She became almost
hysterical and had to be sedated again.

Yemi
left after Fayona fell asleep. She planned to go back the next day.
Fayona's younger sister and cousins were going to be staying with
her for some time. The plan was for her to travel with her kids to
England when the schools broke up in a couple of weeks.

She kept
thinking of Akeem when she got home. Her eyes had kept darting to
his face during the funeral. His eyes were still hidden behind his
Giorgio Armani sunglasses, but his face had been grim all through.
She debated within herself a little bit but shrugged off her
hesitation and decided to call him later that evening.

"Are you
okay?" she asked him when he picked the call.