From Pasta to Pigfoot (18 page)

Amma choked on the water she was drinking. She spun her head round and gaped at the sight of her older brother striding towards them.

Before Amma could say a word, Baaba was on her feet. Her enormous hips swaying, she walked rapidly towards Rocky, reaching him before he had taken more than a few steps. Reaching up, she kissed him on the cheeks three times in the traditional Ghanaian fashion, and grasped his arm firmly as they walked to where Amma, Edwin and JB were sitting.

Rocky greeted the two men, shaking hands with Edwin and raising a hand in salute to JB, his sunglasses barely concealing his distaste at the sight of the latter. Baaba reluctantly released Rocky's arm as he sat on the mat beside Amma and contented herself with quickly sitting
down beside him and manoeuvring her curves as close to him as possible.

‘Where's Faye?' Rocky asked, looking around the crowded beach. He had changed into a pair of long white shorts and a black T-shirt that emphasised his compact muscles. Despite the heat, he somehow still managed to look cool.

‘She's swimming,' Amma said briefly, looking out to where Faye and Sonny were now splashing each other in the sea.

Baaba hid a sly smile as she watched Sonny in the distance playfully trying to duck Faye's head under the water. ‘It looks like Faye and Sonny are getting very friendly.'

Her voice was smooth and she watched Rocky covertly from under her long curly lashes. Her large breasts strained even harder against their tight covering as she leant against him, her face the picture of wide-eyed innocence as she reverted to her native
Fanti
, ‘Well, the girl's on holiday, isn't she? She should have some fun while she's here. And if
anyone
knows how to show a girl a good time, it's our gorgeous Sonny!'

Rocky stood up so abruptly that Baaba almost fell over. Shaking the sand from his leather sandals, he hitched up his shorts and smiled back impassively at the surprised faces looking up at him.

‘Where are you going?' Amma asked. Shading her eyes with her hand, she looked up at her brother in bewilderment.

‘I hadn't planned on staying – I just dropped by to tell
you that Stuart's having a party next weekend at his house and that you're all invited. I'll see you at home this evening.'

With a casual wave of farewell to the astonished quartet, he turned around and strode back in the direction of the car park.

Faye staggered out of the sea, with Sonny close behind her, both of them weak with laughter from their horseplay. Looking over to where Amma and the others were sitting, she stopped abruptly, causing Sonny to bump into her.

Grabbing her waist to prevent her from falling over, Sonny laughed, not releasing his hold even when she had regained her balance.

‘What's the matter?' His husky voice, so close to her ear, sent a small shiver through her.

‘Look! Isn't that Rocky over there – by the others?' Faye exclaimed, trying not to sound agitated.

Shrugging carelessly, Sonny wiped the lingering drops of seawater from his eyes with one hand, the other hand still on Faye's waist, and looked over to where his friends were sitting.

‘Yeah, that looks like Amma's brother,' he replied.

Just as he spoke, the receding figure turned and looked in their direction. Rocky paused for a moment, his face expressionless as he watched the two of them standing immobile at the water's edge, Sonny's hand resting possessively on Faye's waist.

Turning abruptly, he walked away without looking back.

9

Cultural Contrasts

The cock crowed relentlessly, its strident cry breaking through the gentle hum of the air conditioner. Faye turned over slowly in bed, groaning as her stiff muscles protested against the movement. Squinting through her mosquito net at the clock beside her bed, she saw that it was almost six o'clock in the morning.

That bloody animal is begging to be made into chicken soup!
she thought viciously, wincing again as she burrowed her head back into the warm hollow in the centre of her soft pillow. Willing her mind to go blank before a stream of conscious thoughts could enter her brain, she breathed in and out deeply for several minutes. Just as she began to float back into sleep, the cock crowed again, followed by the piercing sound of a car horn from the house next door.

Doesn't anyone sleep in this country
? With a deep sigh she rolled over gently onto her back and slowly opened her eyes. Pale shafts of morning sunlight filtered through the thin curtains. Through the white mosquito net, the advancing
swords of light gave her room a pale ghost-like aura.

The unaccustomed exercise of the previous day was making itself felt. She reached down to rub her aching thigh and felt a marked soreness in her shoulders and back from her swim. After Rocky's sudden departure, she and Sonny had returned to the sea, swimming and frolicking until the cooling temperature had forced them reluctantly out of the water.

The rest of the evening had been uneventful with a quiet dinner at home followed by an early night. Rocky had still not appeared by the time Faye, yawning and struggling to keep her eyes open, bade her host family good night. After a quick shower, she had fallen into the welcoming bed and slept soundly.

She stirred restlessly as the images of the previous day started to crowd into her consciousness. Unable to lie still any longer, she sat up cautiously and gently crawled out of bed. With the sound of the flowing water muffling her groans, she stood under the shower until the warmth brought some relief to her aching muscles.

Feeling more energised, she rummaged through the clothes hanging in the spacious wardrobe. After considering her options, she pulled out a straight dark-chocolate linen skirt with a high slit at the front and a multicoloured top in a mix of gold, brown and scarlet that she'd picked up from a street market in Southall. The top was cut in the style of a sari blouse and she shrugged helplessly as she realised that her belly button was exposed.

Checking her appearance in the mirror, she giggled as she thought of her father's frequently raised eyebrows at
the kind of clothes she wore and her ultra-conservative brother's constant pleas to tone down her – in his words – ‘seriously weird' outfits.

After one last fruitless effort to tug the blouse down, she left her room, wincing at the ache in her calves as she walked down the stairs, and headed for the kitchen.

Martha, back from her day off, was bustling around the large kitchen singing a church hymn very loudly and equally off-key. She stared dubiously at Faye's exposed midriff as she walked in and her singing faltered as her eyes wandered further down to the split skirt. Recovering quickly, she smiled at Faye and wished her a good morning.

‘Would you like some breakfast, Miss Faye?'

Faye shook her head, eyeing the full coffee pot longingly. She was just about to ask for a cup when Rocky sped into the kitchen. Dressed in dark navy tailored trousers and carrying the jacket of his suit, he stopped abruptly when he saw Faye before nodding coolly in greeting.

‘Good morning.' He sounded in a hurry and turned to Martha who silently handed him a cup of coffee. He gulped it down hastily, holding the cup well in front of him to avoid spilling coffee onto his pristine white shirt.

‘Isn't it a bit early for the office?' Faye looked at her watch in surprise.

Rocky took a final gulp and handed the cup back to Martha, who shook her head in exasperation at his idea of breakfast. Turning to Faye, he paused before answering, his dark caramel eyes taking in the slim exposed midriff with the peeking belly button. Resisting the impulse to tug the hem of her blouse down again in the face of his
naked scrutiny, Faye looked back at him coolly, waiting for an answer.

‘Not really,' he said, his eyes finally coming back up to meet hers. ‘In Ghana our working hours usually start at eight. You're up early for someone on holiday – do you have plans for today?'

Two short loud blasts of a car horn from outside the house cut off her response.

‘Damn! Sorry, I need to go. That's my father – I parked my car behind his last night,' he said, picking up his jacket as he spoke. With a hasty farewell, he dashed out of the kitchen, the sound of screeching tyres shortly afterwards confirming his departure.

Not wanting to get in Martha's way, Faye gratefully accepted a cup of coffee and wandered off to the dining room where Auntie Amelia was sitting reading a newspaper while finishing her breakfast. She looked up in surprise as Faye entered, then smiled warmly and gestured to her to take a seat across the table from her. On the table was a plate of sliced oranges along with a teapot and two clean teacups.

‘Good morning, my dear,' Auntie Amelia said cheerfully. ‘I hope you slept well? I'm surprised you are up so early – you looked so exhausted last night, I thought you would have a lie-in today.'

Faye sat down and placed her coffee cup carefully on the wicker coaster she had extracted from the rack in front of her.

‘I slept like a log after all the swimming I did in the afternoon,' she laughed. ‘Well, that is until a cock started crowing the national anthem at the crack of dawn!'

Auntie Amelia chuckled, her beautiful eyes crinkling in amusement. She offered the plate of oranges to Faye who shook her head and continued to sip her coffee.

‘I see you're a coffee drinker, not a tea person like me,' Auntie Amelia said, with a nod at Faye's cup. ‘Your mother was a coffee drinker too, you know,' she mused. ‘In our day, it was considered very ladylike and genteel to drink tea. But Annie, as usual, didn't care about such things. She loved her coffee and that was that!' Settling back in her chair, she sipped her tea and smiled in remembrance.

‘She sounds more like William than me,' said Faye, looking wistful. She was only too aware of her talent for bending over backwards to accommodate other people. While she always wanted to be liked, William was just the opposite and had never been known to compromise about anything if he could help it. It was a quality that had helped to make him a successful barrister but also a resolutely stubborn or – in Faye's words – pig-headed older brother.

‘Oh, I don't know,' Auntie Amelia said, looking at Faye over the top of her coffee cup. ‘I would say you have quite a bit of your mother in you. I mean, look at that striking combination of clothes you're wearing – I noticed it as soon as you walked in. You see, that's probably the way Annie would have dressed if she were your age today. She
loved
fashion and was always designing clothes for herself and her friends. Obviously you won't remember, but she used to make most of your clothes herself, and you always looked beautiful.' She paused for a moment in thought. ‘There was always something slightly
different
about the
way Annie put things together.'

‘Really? That's what William says about
me
,' said Faye in surprise, and a rush of pleasure flowed through her at the unexpected connection to her mother she had just discovered.

‘So what work do you do in London, Faye? Are you in the fashion business?' Auntie Amelia looked at her curiously.

Faye grimaced. ‘No, I'm the secretary to a partner in a law firm.'

Auntie Amelia raised her shapely eyebrows in surprise. ‘Really – why is that?' she queried. ‘Do you find it interesting?'

Faye shrugged awkwardly, embarrassed to admit that she didn't have the confidence or the brains to look for a better job. Auntie Amelia patted her arm and gave her a reassuring smile. ‘You are still young, my dear, I'm sure you'll find out what you really want to do in time. Just make sure it's something that really interests you and pursue it with all you've got. As I'm always telling Amma, look for what you feel passionate about and then just go for it, as you young people say.'

She paused for a moment, and then shook her head in resignation. ‘Unfortunately, my daughter seems to have interpreted my advice that she should focus on her passion to mean Edwin!'

Faye was still giggling as the subject of their conversation entered the room, yawning widely as she sat at the table next to her mother.

‘Good morning Mama, morning Faye.' Amma sounded tired and listless as she reached across for the plate of sliced oranges.

‘Good morning, Amma.' Her mother looked at her with amusement. ‘Did you sleep at all last night? You don't look to me like you've woken up yet.'

Amma shook her head and chewed slowly on a segment of the juicy fruit. Her braids were tied back with a red scarf, which matched the red shirt she wore over her jeans. ‘I was up until midnight on the phone with Edwin,' she said in between bites of orange. ‘He had a lot on his mind that he wanted my opinion about.'

Faye almost choked at the exaggerated ‘I-told-you-so' look Auntie Amelia cast in her direction.

‘Really, dear? Has he found a job yet?' Disregarding the mutinous expression that appeared on Amma's face, her mother stared back at her, her expression unwavering.

‘No, Mama,' Amma muttered sulkily. ‘You know, it's not his fault that he can't find a decent job that takes into account all the studying he's done. He's very clever –
and
he got a really good degree!'

She poured herself a cup of tea, frowning ferociously at the pot as if she held it personally responsible for Edwin's unemployment.

Her mother maintained a tactful silence. Her diet temporarily forgotten, Amma stirred two spoons of sugar into her cup before continuing moodily. ‘He won't even hear of us getting engaged until he's got a job. And now he's talking
again
about going to America! I thought that after the last time they refused him a visa, he'd finally given up, but he's obsessed with the place. Mama, what am I supposed to do if he goes away?' She looked at her mother, her brown eyes piteous and shadowed from lack of sleep.

‘Well, as I keep saying, it wouldn't hurt
you
to get a job either, my dear,' her mother retorted. ‘After all, you also have a good degree and now that you've finished your National Service, you should be applying to companies and starting your own career instead of worrying about Edwin.'

Her warm smile took the sting out of her words. ‘Anyway, never mind that now. Faye is here and at least this means that you are free to take her round and entertain her while she's with us.'

Amma nodded and turned to Faye. ‘Has Rocky left for work?'

Gazing back steadily at the younger girl whose face had lit up with a mischievous grin as she asked the question, Fay nodded. ‘Yes, he left about twenty minutes ago,' she said as casually as possible. Changing the subject before Amma could persist, she went on. ‘So, tell me. As my chief tour guide, what do you have planned for us today?'

‘Well, I have to collect an outfit from my dressmaker later today. That is, if she's actually finished making it – she's not the most reliable person in the world. She's always doing something or other at church. She's a big time
chrife –
sorry, Faye, that means a devout Christian – and she's so involved with her church that it's really hard to get her to finish making clothes on time. I have to tell her I need something about two weeks earlier than I really do, otherwise she just takes so
long
and—'

Auntie Amelia interrupted hastily, anxious to get her request in before Amma launched into full flow. ‘Well, if you don't mind, can you take the two new ceramic flowerpots outside over to the shop for me when you're
ready? I've asked Baaba to reorganise the place a bit – it's all starting to look very cluttered and uninspiring, so I'm hoping the pots will brighten it up a bit.'

After both girls refused the offer of toast and eggs, Auntie Amelia rose quickly to her feet and excused herself to see to things in the kitchen. Amma finished her tea quickly and Faye followed her outside to find the flowerpots.

Although it was not yet eight o'clock, the sun was shining brightly, casting a clean, cheerful glow on the green lawn behind the house. A profusion of well-tended colourful flowers spilled gracefully out of their beds and added to the early morning brightness. The flowerpots were on the covered veranda next to a wicker sofa and armchairs covered with plump blue and white floral cushions. The veranda was cool and shaded and, for a moment, Faye was sorely tempted to collapse into one of the basket chairs.

After shouting for Togo to come and help, Amma sighed and tested the weight of one of the pots.

‘Togo always conveniently goes deaf when you need him to do something,' she grumbled as she tried to lift it. ‘You'll have to help me with these, Faye.' Puffing a little, she managed to lift one of the large hand-painted pots. Faye stooped and picked up the second one, grimacing at the combination of its weight and her sore calves. The two of them staggered around the side of the house and, after much pushing and pulling, managed to get both pots safely into Amma's car.

Faye ran up the stairs to her room to collect her bag and went back down to join Amma at the car, stopping for a few seconds to pop her head around the kitchen door
and say goodbye to Martha and Auntie Amelia.

Driving out of Labone towards the shop, they had to contend with considerably more traffic than on the day before. After a lengthy period of sitting in a slow moving procession of cars, Amma parked in front of a small parade of shops. Her mother's was the first in the line of stores, with the words
Unique Clothing and Gifts
painted in a dashing font on the black awning above the door. In the large glass window, a few headless pink mannequins stood locked in a pose designed to display their brightly coloured outfits. Faye slid out of the air-conditioned comfort of the car and helped Amma carry the pots into the shop. Baaba was standing at the cash desk drinking a cup of tea and flicking through a newspaper as they walked in. She wore a tight knee-length skirt in a batik fabric, that somehow managed to encompass her huge hips, and a matching fitted top that hugged her straining bosom. She greeted them coolly and watched them hump the heavy pots inside.