Love Finds A Way To The Heart - Episode 1

 

Langbejina ooooooooo!

    The street resounded with the voice of the roasted maize seller as she echoed and re-echoed that rallying cry for potential customers’ patronage of her corn. Like prostitutes soliciting openly in the streets, the corn caught Gbemisola’s eye. She was almost walking past, yet finally stopped in front of the maize and the seller.

    ‘Gud aftunun, aunty . My corn sweet wel-wel o!’ The woman was fanning the charcoal flames, making them blaze above the wire gauze. Loads of corn lay on the wire gauze like logs for the fire. ‘How much own you wan buy?’

    ‘Hundred naira.’

    ‘Oookay.’ The woman tore a paper in readiness to wrap a hundred naira’s worth of corn. It was at that point that Gbemisola heard a voice behind her.

    ‘It appears there’s been an accident,’ came the rich smoky voice, which brought Barry White to mind. Gbemisola turned and saw the bearer of the voice. He was now standing beside her. He was of average height – but there was nothing average about him. His torso breathed fitness, the limbs athletic

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. The face shouted out a wide-bridged nose, full lips, and large dark eyes.

    ‘Er… an accident, you said?’

    ‘Yeah’

    ‘Where? H-has an ambulance been called?’ Gbemisola looked round.

    ‘I’m afraid you’re the one involved in the accident.’

    Gbemisola looked askance at the guy, almost thinking he must be out of his mind. Then the guy’s voice dropped to a whisper as he said: ‘Your backside is…bloodstained.’

    Gbemisola stiffened with shock, her eyes dilating in embarrassment upon digesting what he’d been trying to say. Realization struck her like a blow. ‘Oh, no. It couldn’t have crept up on me just like that,’ she muttered under her breath.

    ‘Aunty see your corn o.’

    Gbemisola took the corn from the woman’s outstretched hands, put the corn in her bag, and gave the woman five hundred naira. Just when she was making a mental note of what to do, the guy took off the stonewashed denim jacket he was wearing. That now left him with just the white t-shirt he’d worn beneath the jacket – which was a perfect fit with his frayed faded blue jeans. He held out the jacket to her. ‘Wrap it around yourself. It should at least serve as a good cover.’

    Gbemisola held his gaze as she slowly took the jacket and wound it around her. He contemplated her in silence, as if he would see through her or something, which made Gbemisola feel exposed.

    ‘Aunty, take your change o.’

    ‘Oh. Thank you.’ Gbemisola turned and received the change. Her eyes re-settled on the guy’s, which seemed to bore into her. The guy made up his mind what to do.

    ‘Let’s go.’

    ‘Where?’

    The gentle touch of his hand as he laid it on Gbemisola’s arm felt so assuring. ‘Come.’

    ‘What’s your name?’ Gbemisola asked.

    ‘Ejiroghene. Yours?’

    ‘Gbemisola’

    ‘OK.’

Gbemisola was led in acquiescence, and for reasons she understood, along the street, past a corner shop, until they came to a lane at the end of which stood a block of flats. Gbemisola was beginning to feel at ease with this dude who had clean-cut good looks. All the same, she felt around in her bag and was relieved that her pepper spray was there. You never can tell.

    ‘This is where I live,’ the guy said as they approached the block of flats. Actually, he had Gbemisola walking in front now, so he could regard her behind meticulously. ‘On the ground floor,’ he added. Presently, Ejiro moved ahead of Gbemisola. He took out a key when they got to his door. ‘After you,’ he said upon opening the door. Gbemisola was greeted by the mixed smell of Drummer air freshener and camphor. He threw open the windows. She removed her shoes and placed them by the door. The apartment was simply furnished. Gbemisola looked around to see if there were any photographs of him on the wall. But all she saw were wall hangings. ‘You’re most welcome to my humble abode.’

    ‘Thank you.’ Gbemisola was about to sit on the couch but stopped short. ‘Er, could I use your bathroom now?’

    ‘Certainly.  I mean, I expressly brought you to my place so you could clean yourself up. Give me a sec. I’ll be back shortly.’

    ‘OK.’

    Gbemisola saw him disappear through a door that led to, she believed, his bedroom. Before long he came out.

    ‘You can go in now. The bathroom isn’t hard to find once you get inside the bedroom. Do check the bathroom cabinet and see if there’s any thing you might find useful. Feel free to use the towel on the rack. You may rest assured that it’s germ free. I placed it brand new on the towel rack this morning.’

    ‘OK.’

    ‘And one more thing…’

    ‘What?’

    ‘You’ll find what I’ve kept for you on the bed. I felt you might need them, considering.’   

    Gbemisola wondered what exactly he meant, but she thanked him and went towards the door, which he now held open for her, shutting it gently immediately she got inside.

    It was a double-bed room with a fitted carpet, a bedside table, a built-in wardrobe, a full-length mirror, chest of drawers, even a dressing table. To Gbemisola’s astonishment she found a change of clothes lying on the bed. She checked each article of clothing: the skort caught her fancy, and the scoop-neck tee. Then her eye fell on something else. She placed the skort and shirt back on the bed and picked what she’d espied. Taking a close look she was amazed to find out what it was: a pair of panties sealed in a zip-locked plastic bag.

    ‘Mm. How interesting!’ Gbemisola smiled. ‘I may have to get back to this.’ She dropped the plastic bag. The bathroom door was ajar, reminding her that it was about time she cleaned up. She entered the bathroom, the tiling cool against soles of her feet. She placed her handbag on the vanity unit and opened the cabinet: it was filled with toiletries. But it was the extra-large toilet roll particularly that her eyes welcomed. She brought out the toilet roll, wrapped some of it neatly around her hand over and over, again and again, until she had a good amount and flattened it. ‘This should provide a semi-permanent solution to the flow of the red sea until I get home.’ She chuckled at her pun. ‘As if the Red Sea itself is blood-red at all!’ She gave another chuckle of amusement.

    Placing in her handbag the toilet paper she’d detached thickly from the roll, Gbemisola removed the jacket she’d covered herself with. She dropped the jacket beside the vanity unit and entered the shower cubicle. Reaching for her fastener, she felt it was a good thing the dress fastened at the front.

    She could hardly wait to strip off and wash herself all over