The next day, Laura lectured me on what to expect and how to behave on a date like that. She was so good, pretty good on any stuff relating to etiquette. At first, she suggested I needed a nice hair do. I obliged though reluctantly. I had this long natural ebony hair that almost reached my buttocks. I hated plaiting my hair for a reason best known to me. I regularly washed, brushed and styled it. And that was all.
Mirabel before leaving that morning offered to help out with the hair. I restrained myself for a while until Laura reassured me that I was in safe hands. One could hardly trust a girl like Mirabel. For a start, I was given a magazine to kill time while Mirabel set to work. Laura went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. The way Mirabel handled scissors recklessly scared me that I had to look at the mirror placed before me more often than I looked at the magazine I held. I watched sorrowfully as my hair fell off in heaps.
I didn't know how it happened but I just dozed off. By the time I woke up, Mirabel had consumed half and a dozen of the long hair I spent decades growing. I sought revenge at once. I searched frantically for Mirabel to strangle her for ruining my hair but Laura told me she was gone. Oh my lovely hair! I wept bitterly. Laura tried consoling me. She hugged me tightly as I laid my head on her shoulder, crying out my eyeballs. Despite the soothing words she uttered, I caught her twice or thereabout smiling secretly at my misfortune when I peeped at the mirror.
The day went on, boring as usual. I took almost an hour of the day sorting the outfit to put on. At last, Laura got me a royal blue floral gown. I did not argue much, at least, It was somewhat decent.
Evening was fast approaching. I looked forward to meeting Francis. I had never felt this way before. Perhaps I was beginning to develop affection for him, but I wouldn't just admit that, would I? The previous day, when I inquired of Francis from Laura, she did tell me that Francis was her secondary schoolmate — a cool and reserved guy. I had a thousand and one questions to fire at Laura, but I kept them to myself.
Finally, 4:30 p.m. struck, and I set to leave, but Laura hauled me back. She gave the impression that a lady should not hurry to catch up on a date. She teased me and said that I wasn't going for Sunday school where I could easily secure a godly pamphlet for maintaining punctuality.
Laura always had her way, so I waited till 5:00 p.m. I got to Deluxe Hotel Suite at exactly twenty minutes after five. The tricycle driver had delayed me as we kept haggling over the transport fare. I thought that perhaps Francis would have gone, but there he was, seated calmly and looking more handsome than the day before. On seeing me, he stood up like the gentleman he was and helped me to a seat reserved for me.
"Thank you," I said.
"You're welcome," Francis replied. "What would you like to have?" he asked.
Laura had earlier instructed me to say, "A glass of water will do," as a matter of courtesy. But had Francis not caught me the other time devouring a bowl of semolina and melon soup ravenously beyond spare? Damn it!
"Anything," I replied, revealing my gap tooth. Only if he knew how the worms in my belly were twerking!
Francis beckoned on the waiter standing by and ticked the menu for our order.
"Where do you live?" he began.
Lord of host! How was I going to tell this dude that I was a tenant living in a one-room apartment? I thought he would have started by complimenting my beauty or my dress even, as most gentlemen would.
"I… don't have a house of my own yet, but soon enough, I will, as soon as I start working," came the reply.
"You mean, you don't work right now?"
"Yeah. I'm still searching. Actually, I studied Business Administration at the university, but you know, this economy could be frustrating at times, so I haven't found any job yet."
"Wow, that's incredible! I can introduce you to my father if you don't mind. He owns a big firm here in Ibadan and certainly needs a qualified hand like yours. I'll speak to him on your behalf."
"Are you serious?" I asked rhetorically amidst shock and ecstasy.
"Of course I am."
"Thank you so much, Franklin. You are a life saver."
"Foremost, it is Francis and not Franklin. And then, you are welcome, as always," he smiled.
At that very moment, the waiter came in and dropped our order. Francis settled the bills as the waiter left as swiftly as he came.
Francis and I ate our meals in utter silence. My sudden timidity returned when I observed that Francis wouldn't stop staring at me. Boom! I couldn't tell how it happened, but I did finish up my meal before Francis and with a spotless dish. Laura won't be proud of the terrible "student" I had become.
After some while, Francis poured out some content of the wine bottle into two glasses. I knew that the wine was alcoholic, and I never drank alcohol, come what may. My mum had brought us up—my sister Joan and I—in such a way that we never tasted an alcoholic drink, not once, not ever.
But here I was, seated with a glass of alcoholic wine before me. How was I going to tell Francis that I never drank alcohol? I rather kept mute.
My countenance changed as I sipped from the glass.
"You don't like it?" Francis queried.
"I do. It's nice," I replied absurdly.
I gulped down the whole stuff to impress Francis and make him feel proud of me. He refilled my glass, and I drank too.
By the time late evening drew near and it was time to go, I started acting funny. I was obviously inebriated. I talked balderdash, and it dawned on Francis that I wasn't the kind that took alcohol.
Francis helped me to my feet and took me to his car. Under the intoxicating effect of alcohol, I began to recite some nursery poems from the good old days when I taught as a nursery pupils' teacher. If Francis had laughed, I couldn't remember. All I did remember was that he took me to his house, phoned Laura, and explained my drunken state to her.
I woke up the next morning to find myself covered in an immaculate white duvet. The room was quite strange. I had expected Madam Bisi, as usual, waking up all other neighbours with her croaky voice. I tried recalling what transpired the past night or where I was, but my head was throbbing as if three elderly women were pounding amala delicacy in there.
Just then, Francis walked in on a white vest and blue shorts with a tray of toast bread and coffee. That was when it occurred to me that I must have been drunk the night before. What baffled me most was that Francis did not take advantage of me regardless.
"The beauty awakes!" he exclaimed on coming in, all smiles.
"Good morning," I mumbled.
"Same here. How was your night?"
"Fantastic," I replied cheerfully, though my head still ached.
"Here, I brought you some breakfast," Francis said as he dropped the tray on a wooden stool adjacent to the bed.
"Thank you," I said.
"Never mind. Let me know if you need anything. I'll be right back," he said before leaving.
Francis was such a darling, I must say. Later that morning, he dropped me off at Laura's house. The way Laura laughed at me like a pre-teen wearing two different shoes to school, I wondered what Mirabel would have done either. I couldn't help but join her to laugh at myself to nothingness.