Read From Pasta to Pigfoot Online

Authors: Frances Mensah Williams

From Pasta to Pigfoot (16 page)

BOOK: From Pasta to Pigfoot
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Martha entered the room carrying a tray laden with steaming serving dishes piled high with food. She set them down carefully on woven cane place mats in the centre of the table and went back to the kitchen. Returning with more dishes, she arranged the serving spoons next to them and smiling sweetly at Faye, wished them all a good meal before leaving the room, this time closing the door behind her.

Faye looked at the mouth-watering spread in front of her. Not having eaten since the meal on the plane, she eyed the deliciously herbed tender chicken pieces, the steaming white rice, the bowl of rich red spiced tomato gravy and piping hot vegetables laid out on the table with appreciation.

Auntie Amelia passed the dishes round and the clinking of cutlery and the whirring of the ceiling fan were the only noises to be heard in the room until Amma finally leaned back with a sigh.

‘That was delicious! I can't believe I ate so much; I'm supposed to be on a diet,' she groaned and looked at Faye
enviously. ‘Faye, you're so lucky that you're tall and slim – do you exercise a lot?'

Faye snorted with laughter, nibbling at the remains of a piece of chicken she had picked up from her plate. ‘
Me! Exercise
? Okay, to be fair, I did try going to the gym with my best friend Caroline for a while. But it was all too much effort for me and I was really glad when she got fed up and stopped after three weeks.'

Uncle Fred finished the generous portion of food his wife had heaped on his plate and wiped his mouth with a white linen table napkin. ‘I don't think you need to worry about your weight, Faye. You have a lovely figure.'

He turned to Rocky who was briskly forking the last of his rice into his mouth, and added mischievously, ‘Doesn't she, son?'

Rocky almost choked on his last mouthful. His mother hid a smile behind her hand while Amma giggled openly. Faye looked across at him, a challenging expression in her eyes, and he wiped his mouth slowly and stared straight back at her.

‘Yes, Dad,' he said softly. ‘She's got a great figure.'

Faye's eyes dropped in confusion and she felt a powerful surge of heat rise up into her face and all the way to her hairline, causing her scalp to prickle. Concentrating fiercely on slowly removing the last succulent piece of chicken from the bone, she only dared to look up again when Martha came back into the dining room to clear the table.

Amma rose and helped to stack the used dishes. Waving away Faye's offer to help, she carried the plates to the kitchen while Martha collected the empty serving
dishes before following her out of the room. Amma returned after a couple of minutes and took her seat at the dining table.

‘You look tired, Faye.' She peered at their guest with concern. ‘I don't suppose you feel like going out anywhere this evening?'

Her mother gave a tut of annoyance and shot an impatient glare at her daughter. ‘Amma, of course she doesn't feel like going out! She must be exhausted after the long flight.'

She turned to look at Faye, her voice reassuring. ‘Martha is bringing some dessert in shortly and then you should get some rest. When we've finished dinner, you can call your father to let him know you've arrived safely?'

Faye nodded in agreement. Now that she had eaten, she was beginning to feel the effects of the day's events. She perked up slightly as Martha come back in, this time carrying a long platter, which she laid on the table with a flourish. Slices of golden yellow pineapple had been carefully arranged on the white platter and garnished with tiny sprigs of mint.

Faye gasped with delight as she tasted a piece of the juicy fruit. ‘Mmm...! Auntie Amelia, this pineapple is fabulous – I've never tasted anything so sweet!' Her expression was one of pure rapture as she leaned back with her eyes almost closed, savouring the delicious fruit.

Rocky smiled at her uninhibited enthusiasm. Swiftly disposing of two slices of pineapple, he wiped his mouth on his napkin and leant back in his chair.

‘You probably won't remember eating these when you
were a child but our pineapples are among the best in the world,' he said. ‘This particular variety is particularly sweet and comes from Cape Coast – that's further west along the coast from Accra.'

He went on, his tone casual. ‘If you have some free time while you're here, I can take you to see Cape Coast – they have some beautiful beaches there.'

Faye nodded dumbly, her appetite suddenly vanishing as butterflies took flight in her stomach at the thought of going out anywhere with him. She forced herself to eat her last piece of pineapple, now barely tasting its tangy sweetness.

The dessert was quickly consumed and when everyone had finished eating, Auntie Amelia ushered Faye into the study, another large room off the hallway and left her alone to phone her family. After a few minutes of conversation with her father and William, she exchanged a few words with Lottie and went back into the living room to find the older couple and Amma watching a film on TV.

‘Rocky sends his apologies, but he had to leave,' Auntie Amelia said, patting the seat beside her in invitation. Faye sat down next to the older woman and burrowed into the soft leather of the couch. ‘He has an appointment this evening with some business clients who are leaving Ghana tomorrow.'

Faye suppressed an unexpected pang of disappointment and watched the TV with the family for a few minutes, fascinated by the local drama involving a young village girl promised to the gods for a crime committed by her ancestors. But, despite herself, she soon found her eyelids drooping.

Uncle Fred nudged Auntie Amelia, who had been watching the film with barely concealed irritation at the
storyline. His wife took one look at her tired guest and gathered her up from the couch.

‘Look at me getting caught up in this foolish film when you are so exhausted!' she tutted in apology. After wishing Uncle Fred and Amma a good night, Faye followed as Auntie Amelia led the way to her room.

After her hostess had turned on the air conditioning unit and checked that fresh towels had been placed in the bathroom, she kissed Faye goodnight and hugged her. Once again her eyes moistened as she looked intently at the younger woman, and she shook her head from side to side as if she still could not believe what she was seeing. ‘My dear, I am so happy to have you here with us at last.' Her voice softened. ‘In a way, it's also like having Annie back again.'

Giving Faye a final hug, she released her and walked towards to the door. She turned back and added, ‘If I know your father, I'm sure you are a regular church-goer?'

At Faye's rueful nod, she smiled. ‘Uncle Fred and I go to the eight-thirty Mass and you're more than welcome to join us. But, if you're feeling tired tomorrow morning, just stay in bed – you can always go another time.'

With a final ‘goodnight', she left the room and Faye quickly brushed her teeth and changed into a cotton T-shirt. Shivering slightly at the cool air blasting from the air conditioner, she quickly climbed under the mosquito net into the large welcoming bed. Her last conscious thought as she snuggled under the covers was of a pair of caramel-coloured eyes looking into hers – and they didn't belong to Auntie Amelia.

8

Social Culture

The incongruous sound of a cock crowing roused Faye from a deep sleep. She lay quietly for a few moments, wondering if she had dreamt it. The cock crowed again, its plaintive cry wafting in through the windows. The room was still in semi-darkness as Faye peered at the luminous dial of her wristwatch. Realising with horror that it was only five-thirty, she pulled the covers up under her chin and forced herself to go back to sleep.

When she opened her eyes again, the room was flooded with sunlight straining through the thin cotton drapes. Blinking at the incredible brightness of the morning sun, Faye sat up and stretched slowly and luxuriously. She slumped back against the pillows and surveyed her bedroom through the mosquito netting.

I'm really here!'
she thought, squirming in excitement as the realisation of where she was finally hit her. Despite the gentle hum of the air conditioner, she could hear the strident toots of car horns, loud clucks from what sounded
like an entire brood of chickens, and piercingly loud voices in a language she didn't understand wafting in from outside her window.

‘I'm definitely not in Hampstead now,' she said aloud and plumped up her pillows before lying back against them. She thought back dreamily over the events of the previous evening and Rocky's face immediately came to mind.

She shook her head impatiently as if to dislodge the image, and wriggled out from under the mosquito net to walk over to the window. Pulling the metal tab, she peered through the louvre blades protected by the fine mosquito netting covering the window frames. Her room overlooked a large garden to the back of the house. At the far side of the garden, she could see part of a washing line with securely pegged clothes flapping lightly in the morning breeze. Directly behind the house, a green, neatly manicured lawn stretched back, surrounded by beds of brightly coloured flowering shrubs. To one side of the grass, a small open-sided structure with a thatched roof covered some tables and chairs. Alongside it was a large brick barbeque with a stand for a spit.

A knock at the door interrupted her survey of her temporary home.

‘Come in!' she called, turning round to see who it was. The door opened slowly and Amma's head came into view.

‘Good morning, Faye,' she said brightly. ‘I'm glad you're awake – I didn't want to disturb you.'

Faye gestured to her to enter and she bounded happily into the room. Dressed in well-worn denims and a long white cotton shirt, she perched on the edge of the bed and
looked at her guest critically.

‘You look well rested this morning', she pronounced. ‘I must say you were looking pretty tired last night. Which, I suppose is not surprising after flying all the way from London. I remember when we went to Canada a few years ago how tiring it was just sitting on the plane and doing nothing for hours!'

Amma's hair had been styled into a profusion of tiny braids that fell below her shoulders. She had twisted a bright red scarf into a hair band to keep the braids off her face and her soft round cheeks dimpled sweetly as she chattered non-stop.

‘Rocky didn't get back home until midnight, you know,' she carried on, barely pausing for breath. ‘Clarissa phoned me again after you went to bed and I could tell she didn't believe me when I said he'd gone out.'

‘How long had they been going out before they broke up?' Faye asked, trying to sound casual. She lifted away the corner of the mosquito net to make space on her bed and sat down facing Amma.

‘About a year or so,' Amma shrugged. She lowered her voice conspiratorially. ‘She's still crazy about Rocky and is absolutely desperate to marry him. The trouble is Clarissa just doesn't know when to stop – she was always dropping hints and going on and on about marriage, which is about the worst thing to do with my brother. If you know Rocky at all, you know you can't make him do
anything
he's not ready to do.'

Faye held her breath as Amma paused briefly to clear her throat before continuing.

‘Anyway, the whole bust-up happened because Clarissa decided that if she could get Rocky jealous, he'd go ahead and propose to her rather than lose her. So, what does she do? She starts flirting with Rocky's boss, Stuart. He's British – and a complete womaniser,' she whispered the last as an aside before continuing.

‘Well, unfortunately for Clarissa, she got completely the opposite reaction. Rocky was furious when she started flirting with Stuart right in front of him
and
some other friends they were out with. When he took her home, he told her that he couldn't trust her any more and ended things there and then!'

Amma paused dramatically and Faye leant forward, completely forgetting to look uninterested.

‘So what happened? How did she take it?' she asked impatiently.

Amma rolled her eyes in exasperation. ‘Not very well at all, to put it mildly. She still thinks Rocky didn't mean what he said. Again, if you know my brother, you know he's as stubborn as a mule and
never
goes back on something he's said.'

Flicking back an errant braid, she went back to her story. ‘So now she just keeps calling me or phoning the house line because he never picks up when she calls his mobile, and acting as if nothing's changed. I've told her to leave him alone for a while, but
she
thinks I don't really like her and that I'm trying to fix him up with my best friend Baaba, who's always had a huge crush on him.'

Confused at the sudden twist in the plot, Faye crossed her legs and shook her head in bewilderment.

‘Okay,' she said slowly, trying to keep up. ‘So, then how does Rocky feel about Baaba – I mean, is he interested in
her
?' She wondered why she was suddenly so interested in how Rocky felt about anything.

Amma gave a loud snort, slapping a hand against her plump thigh as she burst into hoots of laughter.

‘There are not many things my brother's scared of – but Baaba is definitely one of them! He runs a mile whenever she's around. He calls her a man-eater, which isn't very nice. But it doesn't help that the first time he met her, she was on the phone and all Rocky heard was her telling the guy at the other end, “No finance, no romance!”'

Unconsciously releasing a slow breath of relief, Faye ran a hand through her dishevelled hair and looked down at her crumpled shirt.

‘Well, it's getting late. I'd better have a shower and get dressed,' she said, getting up from the bed. ‘Have your parents gone to church?'

Amma stood up reluctantly and moved towards the door. ‘Yes – they'll probably get back about twelve,' she said. ‘They usually visit one or two of their friends after church before they come back home for lunch.'

She opened the door and turned back to Faye, who was rummaging through her suitcase for some clothes. ‘I'll be in the living room when you've finished getting ready. We can have breakfast together,' she said, before leaving the room.

Faye brushed her teeth, showered quickly and slipped into a pair of narrow cropped linen trousers she had bought in the summer sales. She teamed them with a white silk top that barely grazed the waistband of the trousers and
brushed her hair vigorously, relieved to see that, despite the humidity, it still fell into place.

Sliding her feet into her canvas wedges, she grabbed a cotton handkerchief from the economy pack of ten Lottie had insisted on buying for her, and switched off the air conditioner before leaving the room.

Amma was stretched out on the couch engrossed in a glossy magazine when Faye walked into the living room. Without getting up, she lowered the magazine to look at Faye and shook her head enviously.

‘I wish I had your figure,' she sighed. ‘My thighs are much too fat to wear trousers like those. Let's go and get some breakfast.' With that she stood up, dropped the publication on the centre table and led the way into the kitchen.

Like the other rooms Faye had seen so far, the kitchen was large and sunny and with an array of shining modern labour-saving devices that reminded her of Caroline's kitchen. There was a large bleached-wood table in the middle of the room with several chairs pushed neatly under it. Pulling out a chair, Amma gestured to Faye to take a seat while she got to work. Explaining that Sunday was Martha's day off, Amma busied herself opening the fridge and cupboards, chattering relentlessly as she prepared breakfast.

‘If it's okay with you, we can go to the beach after lunch.' She continued without waiting for a response. ‘It's only a short drive away and it's a popular place on Sundays. You'll be able to meet my boyfriend Edwin and a few of our friends—'

‘Some of whom you should avoid like the plague!'

Both girls jumped as Rocky's voice broke into Amma's rambling narration. He strode into the kitchen and pulled out another chair. Spinning it round, he straddled the chair, and rested his arms on the back, ignoring the look of irritation his sister directed at him. Instead, he smiled at Faye, his eyes taking in her long legs and the silk cropped top.

‘Good morning,' he said finally. ‘I hope you slept well.' He was wearing a loose pale blue cotton shirt with jeans and looked cheerful and relaxed.

Amma deposited a pot of coffee, slices of toast and a tray containing sugar, milk, cheese and an assortment of jams and marmalades on the table. Placing plates in front of Faye and Rocky, she gestured airily at the food.

‘Go ahead, help yourselves.' She poured herself a cup of coffee, then sat down and sipped the black liquid slowly.

Rocky offered the plate of toast to Faye first and then liberally spread two slices with butter before pouring coffee for Faye and then for himself. He glanced at Amma as he bit into his toast and almost choked at the expression of longing on her face.

‘What's wrong with you?' he demanded, when he could speak.

Amma shook her head and took another doleful sip of her coffee. Putting her cup down, she rested her elbows on the table and leant forward.

‘Edwin says I'm getting fat. So I'm dieting until he stops teasing me, or,' she grinned at Faye, ‘until I'm as slim as you.'

Rocky polished off a second slice of toast then shook
his head in exasperation.

‘If he doesn't like you the way you are, just get rid of him,' he said bluntly. He added two teaspoons of sugar to his coffee and sipped the drink with satisfaction. Looking up, he caught Faye's eye; she was grinning and he smiled back.

‘What's funny?' he enquired. His pale brown eyes watched her finish the last bit of toast.

‘You two remind me so much of my brother, William, and me,' she laughed. ‘He's always so critical of my boyfriend.'

The smile slowly faded from Rocky's lips and he continued drinking his coffee without comment. Amma's face, on the other hand, lit up with interest and she leant towards Faye excitedly.

‘What's your boyfriend like, Faye? Is he English?' she asked.

‘Well, I suppose I should say ex-boyfriend, really,' Faye admitted, aware that for the first time she didn't feel anything when she thought about Michael. She tested the feeling again, like a tongue probing against a once sore tooth. Again, she felt nothing.

Suddenly conscious of the two of them staring at her, she laughed again, a heady feeling of sheer joy sweeping through her.

Amma brushed the short explanation aside and repeated her questions impatiently. Still laughing, Faye raised her hand in surrender. ‘Okay, okay!' She went on more soberly. ‘Michael's British and his family is originally from Jamaica. We went out together for about two years. He was at school with my brother – which is how we met – although, to be honest, William never had much time for him.'

Swallowing the rest of her coffee, Faye thought back over the period she and Michael had been together. With hindsight, she realised how much their relationship had fallen into the pattern of Michael leading while she followed. At his own instigation, Michael had taken on the role of her culture guru while she had been content to shelter in the attention that it brought her even when that attention, as she now recognised, had been mostly negative and critical.

‘Is the relationship really over?' Surprisingly, this time the question came from Rocky, his eyes hooded as he studied his own empty coffee cup intently. She paused before answering and he looked straight up at her, his eyes probing hers. She flushed at the unexpected intensity of the look but this time she didn't drop her gaze and stared back steadily at him.

‘Yes,' she answered simply and smiled as he nodded his head in satisfaction.

Amma had observed the curious interchange with wide eyes and she rose from the table and collected the empty plates, for once lost for words. Faye forced her gaze away from Rocky and stood up to help clear the table and put the rest of the food back into the large refrigerator.

‘Rocky, do you want to come to the beach with us this afternoon?' Amma had found her voice again and a new mission was taking seed in her fertile brain.

Faye concentrated on wiping the dishes the younger girl was washing and tried not to look interested in Rocky's reply. Having done what he considered his share of the clearing – carrying two plates to the sink – he had
perched on the edge of the table, from where he watched them finish the washing up.

‘I'm not sure,' he replied, his face expressionless. ‘I have to go to the office for a couple of hours.'

‘On a Sunday?' Faye looked at him in surprise.

‘I have to write a report on the meeting we had with our clients last night. Unfortunately it needs to get to our London office tomorrow morning so I have to get it done today,' he explained.

Amma scrubbed hard at a coffee stain on the cup she was washing. ‘We're used to it, Faye. Rocky often goes to the office at weekends – Mama says he works too hard and that he's far too ambitious.' She smiled mischievously at her brother. ‘Anyway,' she added, ‘if everything goes well, he's likely to get a major promotion at work soon.'

BOOK: From Pasta to Pigfoot
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