From Pasta to Pigfoot (39 page)

He chuckled appreciatively and she sat up and smiled at him. ‘You're looking very sporty, Uncle Fred!' She took in the spotless white trainers on his feet. ‘Where are you off to?'

He pretended to shadow box for a few seconds, his generous stomach wobbling slightly as he lurched from foot to foot, then stopped, panting slightly as he answered.

‘Just keeping fit, my dear,' he said breathlessly. ‘I'm off to play tennis with an old friend of mine – we get together once in a while.' He winked at her broadly and dropped his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. ‘Actually, it's more of an excuse to have a few beers together and catch up, but it makes your Aunt feel better if she thinks I'm exercising!'

Faye giggled at the mischievous expression on his face. With a brief wave, he disappeared back inside, leaving her to finish the dregs of her now cool coffee. She took the empty cup back to the kitchen and had just deposited it by the sink
when Rocky sauntered in. Dressed in a pair of jeans and a faded denim shirt, he looked ridiculously handsome. The tiny lines of tiredness she had noted before seemed to have vanished, and he radiated energy as he walked towards her, hugging her briefly before stepping back.

‘Hey.' His wide smile displayed his even white teeth. ‘You look good enough to eat,' he added, taking in her slender figure shown off to advantage in the fitted midi dress she was wearing. The tiny buttons down the front were unbuttoned from just above her slim knees down to her shapely calves.

For the second time that morning, she felt the heat of a blush along her cheekbones and ducked her head self-consciously at his open scrutiny.

‘Good morning to you too,' she muttered, pushing away from him hastily before Martha walked in. ‘Do you want some coffee – I think there's still some left in the pot?' she asked.

‘I'd rather have you,' he answered slowly, then laughed at the confusion that flooded her features. Taking pity on her, he moved over to the table and poured himself a huge mug of coffee before turning back to her.

‘What time do you want to leave for the Arts Centre?' she asked, desperate to change the subject and bring her emotions under control. He sipped thoughtfully for a moment and then shrugged lightly.

‘Whenever you like,' he said equably. ‘I'm all yours, so just say the word.'

If only
, she sighed inwardly, staring hungrily at his lean handsome features. Conscious of his eyes upon her,
she turned back to the sink and slowly washed her used coffee cup.

‘Well, I'm ready, so we can go when you've finished your coffee,' she said, her back still turned to him. His only reply was to walk up to where she stood and to slide his arms around her waist. For a moment, she leaned back against his broad chest, breathing in the faint lemon scent of his aftershave.

‘Are you sure you have to go on Tuesday?' he murmured, resting his chin on the top of her head. ‘Why can't you stay longer?'

With a sigh, she placed the coffee cup in the draining tray and turned around slowly to face him. His arms continued to hold her possessively and his smile disappeared as he looked down at her, his eyes serious for once as they took in her troubled features.

‘You haven't answered me,' he said softly, bending to gently kiss her full lips. She kissed him back, leaning further into him as his arms tightened around her. After a few mindless moments, she pulled back. Shaking her head slightly, she reached up her hand and outlined his firm lips with her forefinger.

‘I have to go back,' she said, her smile tremulous. ‘I've used up all my holidays and my boss has probably driven the temp mad by now,' she added with a shaky laugh. Hearing Martha's voice in the corridor, she pushed Rocky away, smoothing down her hair self-consciously.

‘Well, what about me?
I
might go mad if you leave,' he asked sulkily. Faye smiled at the look of frustration on his face; the disappointed frown marring his perfect features
gave her a glimpse of what he might have looked like as a little boy.

‘Come on,' she said as Martha bustled into the kitchen. ‘Let's go. We'll talk about it later.'

He gulped down the rest of his coffee and followed her out of the kitchen. She ran upstairs to retrieve her shopping list and tidy her hair before heading out to the car. Rocky had already started the engine and he turned on the air conditioner as soon as they set off.

The traffic was light and they quickly sped down the dual carriageway that ran parallel to the beach. Fifteen minutes later, Rocky turned off the main road and drove slowly down the bumpy track leading to the Arts Centre car park. It was clearly a tourist haven as, despite the early hour, the place was already buzzing with visitors. Tourists and backpackers milled around the open grounds and wandered between the stalls, hotly pursued by salesmen peddling carvings and copper bracelets.

Faye stepped out of the car and was immediately besieged by two young men, one waving a small highly polished wooden elephant under her nose, while the other dangled several twisted copper bracelets in front of her, punctuating each shake of the bracelet with ‘Very cheap, very cheap'.

Rocky locked the car and walked around to her side. He waved the two salesmen away and led Faye into a large covered pavilion packed with stalls selling all manner of jewellery, fabrics and carvings. A few of the stalls sold a wide array of merchandise made from the traditional Ghanaian
kente
cloth and Faye looked around, completely
overwhelmed by the sheer number of merchants calling her to patronise their stalls.

Rocky bent to whisper in her ear. ‘When you see something you like, just let me know discreetly and I'll do the bargaining for you. Otherwise, you'll get ripped off and end up paying a fortune.'

She nodded, and then stepped back hastily as a plump saleswoman hastened forward to pin a highly embroidered pink
boubou
against her shoulders. Shaking her head, Faye pushed the garment back towards its owner and moved on quickly to the next stall. A profusion of copper-coloured jewellery was arranged on a dark tablecloth and she bent over to inspect the different designs.

‘Oh Rocky, look.' She held up a delicately twisted bracelet with tiny copper balls at each end. ‘Caroline would love this!'

The stall keeper leapt into action and quickly named a price that had Rocky exploding into laughter. Faye watched in fascination as Rocky haggled relentlessly with the merchant, at one point even walking away as though uninterested. Eventually, after complaining piteously that they were taking the bread from the mouth of his children, the stall keeper relented and grudgingly accepted the wad of notes Rocky instructed Faye to hand over. Immediately after pocketing the money, the stallholder winked cheerfully at them and moved on to a European tourist who had been examining the jewellery and was enquiring about a similar bracelet. As she moved away, Faye shook her head in disbelief when she heard the stall keeper glibly add half as much again to the original price he had offered her.

They walked past one stall after another, stopping occasionally for a closer look at the more unusual items. As he had promised, Rocky took over the negotiations whenever she found something she wanted until finally, almost two hours later, she had managed to buy presents for almost everyone on her list.

‘I still haven't seen anything yet that will be right for Lottie,' Faye said, frowning in concentration as she looked back at the stalls they had already visited. She clutched the rolled-up painting she had just bought for her father securely under one arm and looked in mounting frustration at the last uncrossed name on her list.

‘Let's go outside and see what's available there,' Rocky suggested patiently. He steered her through a wide doorway and they stepped outside into the bright sunlight. In a smaller open area, a number of tradesmen had set up stalls, most of which were filled with assorted items carved from teak, mahogany and other hardwoods.

Faye stopped abruptly as they passed the second stall, ignoring the calls from the owner of the first stand. ‘What do think about this?' she asked, pointing to a small jewellery box made from polished mahogany. It was shaped like a miniature travel trunk and held together by four tiny gold hinges. The lid had been engraved with a delicately carved rose, while the box itself was lined with cherry red felt.

Rocky picked it up and examined it carefully, turning it over in his strong hands to examine the finish before handing it over to Faye. ‘It's beautifully made,' he said appreciatively. ‘I'm sure she would love it.'

Faye nodded in agreement and Rocky turned to the stall keeper who immediately launched into a long speech about the unique design of the box. After fifteen minutes of heated debate between the two men, the vendor wiped his brow with a large soiled handkerchief and conceded defeat. Rocky took out his wallet and handed him a clutch of notes and then passed the carved box to Faye.

‘Tell Lottie this one's from me,' he said with a grin, pushing away the notes Faye tried to hand him. ‘Now, if you've finished with your list, let's go.'

Smiling happily, Faye strode alongside him as they headed back to the car and stowed her belongings safely in the boot.

‘Where to, now?' she asked, as she settled herself into the front passenger seat. Rocky started the engine and opened the car windows for a few minutes to allow the hot air to escape.

‘I'm sure you don't want to hear this since you said you'd turned down Amma's offer earlier on, but I forgot I'd promised to drive Stuart over to the fashion show this afternoon,' Rocky confessed.

‘Oh.' Faye stared at him in dismay.

‘His driver is away this weekend and the truth is that Stuart's been banned from driving any of the bank's cars.' Taking in her disappointment, he added quickly. ‘Look, why don't you come with me? We'll drop him off at the show and leave him in Baaba's hands and then we can carry on and do whatever you want.'

Faye shrugged in resignation. ‘Okay, then. Look, it's not that I don't want to go to the fashion show – I just don't
want to get caught in the usual crossfire between Baaba and Clarissa.'

The sun was high in the sky as they drove away and Faye looked around, basking in the now familiar sights and sounds of Accra. She smiled inwardly as she realised how quickly she had come to accept the manic driving and even the occasional herd of goats ambling across busy highways. Only too aware that she would be leaving in three days, she drank in the passing scenery and tried to capture it all to remember when she returned to England.

They were soon at Stuart's house and he came out to meet them as soon as the gates had closed behind the car. In the afternoon sunlight, the grounds of the house looked even more extensive than they had on the night of the party, and Faye looked round appreciatively at the beautifully landscaped garden.

‘You have a lovely house, Stuart,' she said, reaching up to kiss his cheek in greeting. ‘But don't you find it a bit big for just you?'

Ushering them inside into a large open plan living area, he chuckled in response to her question. ‘Yep, it's huge,' he agreed cheerfully. ‘When they brought me to take a look at the house when I first got to Ghana, I thought I'd be living here with a few other people. I couldn't believe it when they said it was just for me!'

A steward boy entered the room and smiled at the visitors, raising his right hand in a brief salute. ‘You are welcome, Mr Rocky, and madam. Please, what can I offer you?'

‘Have a drink, you two.' Stuart set off in the direction of
the stairs. ‘I'll change quickly and then we can go.'

Faye settled for an ice-cold Coke while Rocky quickly finished a small bottle of cold beer. She had just finished her drink when Stuart walked back in. He was wearing a pair of coffee-coloured linen trousers and a long loose linen shirt in the same fabric.

‘You look really nice!' Faye exclaimed, astonished at the transformation from the scruffy shorts and vest he had been wearing when they arrived.

Stuart winked at her knowingly. ‘Well, I've got to make an effort, eh, since Baaba's worked so hard for this show. Shall we go?'

They went out to the car and before long they were at the exhibition centre where the fashion show was taking place. Huge banners outside the centre advertised it as the show of the year and billboards displayed the bright logos of the event sponsors. After circling around the parking area a couple of times, Rocky eventually found a space and they stepped out of the cool air-conditioned vehicle into the hot sunshine.

Rocky's arm rested casually across Faye's shoulders as he steered her up a flight of wide shallow steps leading to the entrance of the exhibition hall. Stuart followed slowly, trying not to sweat into his linen shirt in the intense heat. After paying the entrance fee, the three of them walked into a huge pavilion where a number of designers had set up stands. They quickly spotted Amma and Baaba standing in front of a small exhibition stand that displayed a range of clothes similar to those on the mannequins in Auntie Amelia's shop. Amma saw them first and waved vigorously.

‘Hi, you guys,' she exclaimed, clearly excited to see them. ‘Faye, I'm so glad you decided to come! You've missed the first show but the second one will start in about an hour.'

Stuart reached out to hug Baaba. ‘Is that the one where they'll be modelling your clothes?'

Her voluptuous figure was moulded in a long figure-hugging black dress with dramatic slits on both sides rising up to mid-thigh. Her full bosom looked in danger of spilling out of the front of the dress as she returned Stuart's hug.

‘Yes – and I've managed to sell eight dresses already!'

Pausing in her jubilation, she looked over Stuart's shoulder and honed in on Rocky's arm resting possessively on Faye's shoulders.

‘Well, I see that you've been keeping busy, Faye,' she said with a sly smile. There was no malice in her tone and Faye was forced to laugh at the exaggeratedly knowing look Baaba was casting at her. From behind, a familiar shrill voice caused both her and Rocky to turn round sharply.