From Pasta to Pigfoot (45 page)

The house lights came on and they stood up to leave.

‘That was brilliant, Faye,' Caroline said. ‘I really enjoyed it.' She struggled back into her coat and added mischievously, ‘I think I should go to Ghana too, or maybe Senegal, after seeing that beautiful landscape. I can just imagine Marcus bare-chested and toiling in the fields.'

Faye was still laughing when she heard a high-pitched voice calling her name. She turned back sharply and stood still in shock, staring at the petite girl standing in the row behind them, her red gold curls tumbling over a black roll-neck jumper.

‘Jasmine!' she exclaimed. Her eyes darted to the man standing beside her, but he was completely unfamiliar to her and Faye relaxed slightly, relieved not to have to exchange pleasantries with Michael.

‘What a surprise, no? It's been ages since we last met,' Jasmine purred.

‘Yes, it has,' Faye replied evenly. She buttoned her coat and continued along the row of seats, heading for the stairs that led up to the exit. Undaunted, Jasmine followed in the adjoining row, her companion trailing after her.

‘So, how's everyone?' Faye stopped and asked politely when it became clear that Jasmine wasn't about to be shaken off easily. ‘Have you seen Michael lately?' She felt no emotion when she mentioned his name.

Jasmine pouted in the manner Faye remembered so well from the night at the pigfoot restaurant. ‘Oh, please!' she said, her voice heavy with scorn. ‘I finished with him months ago – he is so terribly
insular
.'

Caroline had been waiting at the end of the row and waved impatiently at Faye. Jasmine's eyes noted the gesture and her expression immediately changed.

‘Is that who you came with?' Although the question sounded harmless, the hostility in the look she directed at Caroline was unmistakable.

‘Yes. Why do you ask?' Faye tried not to sound defensive, all the while wondering what was coming next.

Taking no notice of the warning cough from her companion, Jasmine pursed her lips and shrugged. ‘Oh well, I just remember Michael talking about how hard he had tried to put you in touch with our culture. Of course, if your friends are
white
, then I suppose it does make it that much harder, doesn't it?' she said sweetly.

Faye gasped in outrage and gripped her handbag, forcing herself not to swing it at Jasmine's small head.
Then suddenly, inexplicably, she felt incredibly calm and she simply laughed.

Whatever reaction Jasmine had been expecting, judging from the angry flush that stained her cheeks, it didn't appear to include amusement. Faye laughed long and hard before fixing the other girl with a steely glare.

‘Well, that has to be the most ignorant statement I've heard for a very long time,' she said, the humour seeping out of her voice. ‘First off, Michael wouldn't know real culture if it got up and bit him, any more than
you
would, if that's the kind of rubbish you come out with.'

Jasmine's companion looked at his girlfriend in alarm as she stood rooted to the spot, staring at Faye in shocked disbelief. Caroline, tired of waiting, walked up to Faye and was just in time to catch the rest of her tirade. It was as if the years of pent-up frustration and irritation at the constant cultural put-downs she had endured had decided to unleash themselves, and Faye was now in full flow.

‘Secondly, if you have enough sense of who you are and where you're from, it doesn't matter in the slightest what
colour
your friends are because, as any intelligent person will tell you, friendship doesn't come in colours. If it did, Michael shouldn't have been friends with either you or your precious brother, since both of you are even paler than my white friend here!'

Jasmine's jaw had dropped in shock and she gasped as Faye's words poured over her like a cold shower. Undaunted, Faye took a deep breath before continuing.

‘And finally, for your information, in
my
culture, it is
not
acceptable to chase after other people's boyfriends.'
She paused briefly, then added sweetly, ‘Oh sorry, I forgot, you're not from
Africa
, are you?'

Leaving a speechless Jasmine staring after her, she nudged a stunned Caroline into life and they walked quickly out of the cinema. They had barely left the building when they took one look at each other and collapsed into helpless giggles. Staggering along the dark street, they held each other up and laughed hysterically, tears streaming down their faces.

‘Oh, oh, Faye,' Caroline cried. ‘Did you see her
face
when you walked off? I thought she was going to faint!' She paused, holding her sides painfully and panting with laughter. Faye leant against a lamp post, shaking with mirth.

‘Oh dear,' she said, finally calming down and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘I think I went a little bit over the top there, Caro. But that girl is such a bitch, she had it coming.' She burst into fresh peals of laughter as she remembered the look of panic on the face of Jasmine's friend.

‘Did you see the way that man kept looking at her?' she gasped. ‘The poor guy looked ready to run for his life!'

They laughed all the way home, hardly noticing the discomfort of the hot tube packed with partygoers. Sharing a bottle of wine back at Caroline's flat, they chattered for hours as only old and true friends can, eventually falling into their respective beds in the early hours of Sunday.

A few days later, as she walked out of the faculty building at the end of the last lecture of the day, she heard her name and turned round to see Brian hastening towards her. She greeted him with a warm smile and walked along with him for a few minutes, readily agreeing to his offer of
a cup of coffee to ward off the chilly March winds.

‘Faye, I would really love to take you out.' Brian's warm brown eyes were serious as he looked at her. Faye stared back at him and, touched by the sincerity in his voice, she nodded slowly.

His face split into a huge grin and he stood up, picked up their empty coffee mugs and placed them on the trolley with the other used crockery. As they walked out of the busy cafeteria, he looked across at her curiously. ‘By the way, where are you from?'

Without hesitation, Faye replied, ‘From Ghana.' He nodded with interest and hoisted his heavy black rucksack over his shoulder.

‘I'm from Barbados,' he said. ‘Well, at least my parents are, but I like to think of it as my home too, even though the last time I went there I was only about ten years old. Have you visited Ghana?'

‘Oh yes,' Faye smiled. ‘I was there only a few months ago and I had a wonderful time.'

Brian walked with her to the tube station before saying goodbye, and they agreed to meet the following evening at a wine bar they both knew. Elated at her decision, Faye headed for home. Her father was away on yet another overseas trip and was not due back for at least another week. William and Lucinda had also decided to take a few days off together and had left that morning for a short holiday in the sun.

Lottie had decided to take advantage of an almost empty house and announced that she would be going up to Scotland to spend a long weekend with her disabled
sister. Closing the front door behind her, Faye headed up to Lottie's room where she found her packing a small suitcase in preparation for her departure the next morning.

She gave Lottie an exuberant hug and sat cross-legged on the bed watching the older woman as she sorted out her clothes and carefully packed the gifts she had bought for her family in Glasgow.

‘So what's put that expression on your face, then?' Lottie looked with amusement at Faye who was grinning irrepressibly.

‘I was asked out today by someone on my course. We're going for a drink tomorrow night.' She tried to sound casual but the excitement that had been building up in her since agreeing to go out with Brian seeped into her voice.

Lottie paused in the middle of folding the white towelling dressing gown she was about to pack. Her curiosity piqued by this new development, she sat down next to Faye on the bed. ‘So, what's he like then?'

‘You mean, apart from the sexy, low-cut beard, great body and fantastic sense of humour?' Faye giggled. ‘Pretty nice, I'd say.'

‘Okay, but leaving all that aside, are you really sure you're ready to get involved with someone?'

She watched as Faye's face clouded over for a moment before a determined smile broke through. Troubled by the sadness she had seen in Faye's eyes after her return from Ghana, Lottie had eventually prised the details of what had happened with Rocky out of her. Now, she tried to quash the unsettling thought that Faye was trying just a little too hard.

Oblivious to Lottie's scrutiny, Faye described Brian in minute detail, including his easy acceptance of her dual cultural upbringing. ‘He's
so
different from Michael,' Faye babbled on enthusiastically. ‘I don't feel in the least bit pressured or judged when I'm with him. Actually, he's just like me, except his parents are from Barbados.'

Lottie considered Faye's statement for a moment before asking quietly, ‘You don't still worry about your cultural identity, do you? I thought the trip to Ghana had changed all that.'

Faye shook her head with vehemence. ‘Oh no, I'm way past worrying about that now. You know, Lottie, Michael made me feel as if I could only be culturally acceptable if I spoke a certain way or ate a particular type of food. It took me a while to sort things out for myself, but I know now that eating all the pasta in the world doesn't make you white, any more than eating all the pigfoot in the market can make you black.'

She paused for a moment, her forehead furrowed in thought. ‘Besides which, from what I learned in Ghana, African culture is also going through change, and some of the people I came across were just as “Western” as me, if not more so. It really doesn't matter what I choose to eat or wear, or who I'm friends with; my culture is part of me, no matter what.'

Lottie's face mirrored her surprise at Faye's confident outburst. ‘To be honest, Faye, I have to say that I'm stunned. I knew going to Ghana had changed something in you, but —' She shook her head and shrugged, suddenly at a loss for words.

Faye laughed, warmed by the look of new-found respect in Lottie's eyes. ‘Well I couldn't expect you to keep rescuing me all my life now, could I? I mean, think about it, Dad even paid for my trip to Ghana! You were right, Lottie; it
was
well past time for me to grow up.'

She stood up to leave the room and let Lottie finish off her packing. ‘You know, applying for college and getting the loan to pay for it is the first thing I can really say I've done for myself and by myself,' she said frankly. 'And I guess I've learned that if I want to be happy, I have to rescue myself.'

She felt a little less sure of herself the following evening when it was time to leave the house to meet Brian. Dressed in a black shift dress which she had teamed with a cherry-red cardigan, high-heeled ankle boots and a long double-stranded seed pearl necklace, she applied the barest minimum of make-up and drove down to Camden Town, finding a parking spot in a side street.

She walked the short distance to the wine bar, pushed open the door and peered through the small crowd of people in search of Brian. He was sitting at a table near the door and stood up as she walked over and gave him a hug. He looked even more attractive in the candlelit setting of the quiet bistro and she noted that the sexy beard had been freshly trimmed. He wore dark trousers and a thin grey turtleneck jumper that showed off his athletic physique.

She ordered a glass of white wine and they were soon chatting easily. She soon discovered that he had also seen the Senegalese film and they discussed the storyline, arguing noisily about their varying interpretations of the filmmaker's message. Brian was a keen traveller and had her in stitches
with stories about some of the places he had visited.

The time flew by, and two hours and another glass of wine later, Faye looked at her watch regretfully and made her excuses, explaining that she needed to be up early the next morning to continue working on her project. Brian looked disappointed at the early end to the evening, but he shrugged good naturedly and called for the bill without protest. When the waiter came over, he pulled out his wallet and paid quickly, then led the way outside and walked with her back to her car.

‘Can I give you a lift somewhere?' Faye asked when they reached her Fiesta. He shook his head with a smile. ‘No, thanks. I'm all the way in South London. I'll just jump on the tube – it's much quicker than driving anyway.'

Faye nodded and reached up to kiss his cheek. Just as she did so, he turned his face swiftly, capturing her lips with his. For a long moment Faye remained motionless, feeling the sensation of his firm lips moving against her mouth and the strength of his arm drawing her against him. When at last he raised his head and looked at her questioningly, she looked back at him with regret, and shook her head slowly.

‘I'm sorry, Brian,' she said softly, unable to pretend a passion she didn't feel. ‘But thank you so much for asking me out tonight. I had a great evening. See you in class next week?'

He nodded, his wry smile showing that no harm had been done. He kissed her on the cheek, the soft touch of his beard lightly grazing her face, and stood back while she opened her car door and got in. She wound down the window and smiled up at him as she started the engine.

‘Drive safely, Faye.' He stood back as she slowly reversed out of the parking space, and watched her drive away.

Faye woke up early the next morning and after a quick shower, padded downstairs to make coffee before getting back to work on her project. Although she still had a couple of weeks before it was due, she was determined to keep ahead of the gruelling schedule of coursework. After a few hours, she took a break and went downstairs for a quick snack, and then forced herself to go back to her room to continue with her task.