In the distance, Sango saw a lorry bearing the colourful letters:
TRAVEL TO GOLD COAST OVERLAND
He sat up. It was Kofi. He ran into the street, waving. The lorry slid clumsily to the left side of the road and stopped. Kofi came down.
‘Sango, is that you?’
‘What’s wrong, Kofi? Where’s Beatrice? Why are your eyes so red?’
He took out a handkerchief and pressed to his eyes. Sango was embarrassed. The poor man was weeping.
‘Dead . . . she died last week.’ He coughed and blew. ‘And what pains me most . . . she was buried as a pauper. No one to claim her. I – I —’ He could say no more.
They crossed the street to the barber’s shop. Kofi found a seat. He was breathing deeply as though trying to compose his feelings.
‘I have often asked, why do girls leave their happy homes and come here on their own? No brothers, no knowledge of anything, no hope . . . They just come to the city, hoping that some man will pick them up and make them into something. Not just one man. You can’t find him at the right time. But many men. And some disease, something incurable picks them up. You see them dressed, and they are just shells. Hollow and sick . . .’ He did not lift his head as he talked.
‘But she was happy with you, Kofi! When I saw you on that day, you were just returning from the Gold Coast —’
‘That’s what you saw. We looked happy. You did not understand what was underneath. How could you? The girl was finished, man.’ He looked up and Sango could not bear to see his red eyes. ‘Finished, I say. I was trying to help her back. She was finished, I tell you; and I was the last man, and too late. The helping hand had come too late. Look, man to man, I have my own wife at home on the Gold Coast, and I rent a house here. And these your girls, I can’t resist them! They’re too beautiful. And I can’t bring my own wife here. Of course she does not know about Beatrice, how can she? But now I must stop all that nonsense; it is not sweet when you lose a woman you love. You know, I did not know I could love her. It was a business arrangement, pure and simple.’
He stared into the street. A woman carrying oranges swung her hips and made eyes. She had balanced the oranges precariously and was peeling one. Kofi looked at her, then turned to Sango.
‘Tell me, why did she come to this city at all? Why did I have to know her?’
‘I’ll tell you why she came, Kofi. She was not content with poverty. Remember, not many people like to remain where fate has placed them. I have known the home of Beatrice. I can tell you. And if you have been there yourself, you would not condemn her actions. She was running away from it.’
Kofi shook his head slowly, no less than a hundred times. The truth was sinking in. ‘But she threw her life away. The city eats many an innocent life like hers every year. It is a waste of our youth! It must stop.’
Sango laughed. ‘Secret societies eat a lot more. But what do the People of the City care? Nothing whatever. They have created the flitter and they are content to live in it. Yes, yes. The irony of Fate. The strange turns of justice . . .’
Kofi was weeping again. If he continued in this manner he would never be able to see the road for tears. He sat with Sango and they talked and talked and still he wanted to know why Beatrice had come to the city. He would never be satisfied with any answer because he was not really seeking an answer, only venting his bitterness at the loss.
When Sango accompanied him across the street he was talking to himself like a man distracted. It was something very sad to see.
•
She rose when he entered; tied the cloth more firmly about her hips, swelling out her breasts as she did so. She walked vainly to the table, poured herself a glass of water. There was a time when Sango would have thought the dimples at the back of her knees nice and soft, but not now. When she turned and faced him he recognized her for what she was – the dark temptress who was such a threat to his happiness, especially now that his mother was here.
‘What are you doing here, Aina?’
‘No need to shout, Sango. I’ve come to rest. I’m short of money, so I came.’
‘Short of money? Is this the bank? And did I not give you some money a short time ago?’
‘Five pounds will not last for ever. I tried to manage it, but I have a lot of things to buy, to prepare myself for the coming baby—’
‘Quickly now! I don’t want you here again!’
Nothing showed the condition she claimed to be in; in fact, if anything, she had grown more attractive. Sango admitted this grudgingly and at the same time decided what he must do. It must have shown in his eyes.
‘Amusa, why do you look at me so? You frighten me with your eyes! Oh, let me go before you kill me!’
‘Quickly!
‘I beg you – let me tie my wrapper properly before entering the street.’ She was at the door.
‘Aina, come back! You silly fool.’