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Authors: Lola Jaye

Tags: #Adult

Being Lara (33 page)

BOOK: Being Lara
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“Yes, down here with you… If that's okay?”

Lara tucked her Granny into bed.

“Sweet dreams,” said Granny with a huge smile, tucked up, reminding Lara of a mischievous child. Lara kissed her forehead and joined Yomi downstairs, thoroughly engrossed in a late-night repeat of
Real Housewives.

“This show is wonderful,” she said.

“I don't watch much TV,” said Lara.

“Because of work?”

“I suppose so…” And Lara was instantly reminded of the mountain of said work, which still needed to be completed. The layout for the new accessories had to be at least thought out, but what with Dad's bombshell and its aftermath, she still hadn't done that.

“I tried to contact you, you know.” Yomi said this unprompted and without warning as Lara laid her head down on the pillow and the lights were out. She couldn't see her and was unable to observe the expression, if any, on Yomi's face.

“I know,” replied Lara, wondering if Yomi's mouth had opened in surprise. “I only just found out.”

“Your grandmother told me.”

Of course, as ever Granny had been quick off the mark. Then again, it had happened two days ago.

“Good night then. See you in the morning,” said Lara quickly, perhaps because she was too emotionally drained after such a charged day or perhaps merely because she didn't want to rock what had been a really good few hours. Of course, she was desperate to hear what Yomi had to say, but she also needed to be prepared for whatever was thrown at her—good or bad. And for now, she merely wanted to bask in the fact she'd really enjoyed spending time with Yomi and her grandmother.

One step at a time.

The next morning Lara decided to show Granny around
her
London. Stately homes and horses “wearing dresses” were okay, but Granny insisted on seeing what had been the backdrop to
Lara's
life for the last twenty-seven years. So with Yomi back at the flat, engrossed in an episode of
Glee,
Granny and Lara roamed down the motorway en route to Essex in Lara's two-seater car, chatting like two old friends. Every mile ended with an extra piece of information about Lara's land of birth, filed in her head for later examination: African proverbs, stories of Granny's youth, multiple tales of an obvious rivalry with the Apampas across the road from their house, more African proverbs, Grandpa Soji, house girls, wrappers, bubas, ileke idi, coconut trees, cassava, the Adi board game played under the shade of a palm tree, fresh corn on the cob. By the time they reached Essex, Lara had completed a crash course in Nigerian culture and history, and now it was Granny's turn.

Lara slowly drove past her old primary and secondary schools, then the site on which her college once stood, now a block of luxury apartments. As she drove, she gave Granny a detailed summary, which of course left out the bullying and first kisses.

Driving past Mum and Dad's, Lara wasn't at all tempted to drop by for a chat and a cup of tea because too much had happened and she wasn't ready to speak to Dad just yet. Mum had called and Lara had lied, said she was okay, that nothing had changed. All lies, because
everything
had changed.

“You have omitted a place,” said Granny, as they headed back toward the motorway.

“I think I showed you almost everywhere. The key places.”

“But not your home.”

“Mum and Dad aren't at home,” she lied.

“This doesn't matter. Don't you have key? I wanted to see where my granddotter has been living for many years of her life. It is very important.”

Lara glanced at her quickly, and sure enough, Granny was doing the “lip thing.”

“The day's not over yet, Gran. You've still got to meet my best friend and my—”

Lip back in. “Your fiancé?”

“Fiancé?”

“The man you are courting. What is the point of courting if you are not one day to marry? So he is your fiancé. Am I to meet with him?”

“He's away on business,” lied Lara, again. She hadn't heard anything from Tyler since the day he'd told her they were over. With so much happening over the last few days, she'd really wanted to reach out to him, if only to feel his touch and sense his reassurance.

“Okay, I will meet him another time then…” Granny said skeptically as Lara responded to an itchy nose.

Granny slipped into a “happy” snooze as Lara reached Sandi via the hands-free.

“You want to come over with your gran?” asked Sandi.

“If that's okay. Tea and cakes at the Cupcake House. Sorry!”

“No problem; that's really cool. Besides, I really want to meet your ‘other' family.”

“You do?” asked Lara, a little taken aback.

“Of course I do! I really envy you. At least they gave enough of a shit to come halfway across the world to find you. I haven't seen my lot since I was a teenager.”

Perhaps in some ways, Sandi and Lara were still those two little lost teenagers aching to find out who they really were. And for the first time, Lara felt she was beginning to make some headway. The bit about Sandi envying her was a shock though.

Lara clicked off as she turned a corner.

“That gal sounds like the bird … you call it parrot … that we used to own when I was a child. Talk, talk, talk that bird. The only difference is, he only speak Yoruba.”

“You'll love her.”

“A wise person once said; you can make noise at somebody or
with
somebody,” said Gran.

“Are we talking about Sandi?”

“No, I am talking about Yomi. Why have you still not embraced Yomi as you have me? Why is she not here with us? I thought you had changed your way toward her.”

“I have a two-seater, Granny.”

“This is an excuse.”

“Trust me, I'm getting there. Yesterday really helped, so thank you. I just need time.”

“I do not want thanks. It is my wish before I die to see you reunited. I am an old woman. What is time?”

“Gran, don't!”

“And you don't judge her. Try to understand her. Yomi is my dotter and I know her more than anyone in this world. She has always taken after her father, in that she is very weak. When things feel hard, something she cannot deal with, she will panic. Like your birth. She was scared for your safety.”

“Gran, seriously, just trust me. Please. I'm getting there.”

“Okay, I trust you.”

If Granny felt oddly out of place surrounded by pink walls, techno music, and cupcakes, she didn't say. She and Sandi chatted like old friends about Lara, a shared love of Bollywood films, and Granny's promise to cook Sandi the biggest plate of amala she could, just to fatten her up and make her more eligible to a bachelor.

“These English gals are too skinny, ah ah. You have no idi.”

“What's an idi?” asked Sandi.

“Buttocks,” replied Granny. “Well, at least you have a bosom. This is something. Lara, get me another one of those fancy cakes. This time with the flower on top.”

“Sure, Gran,” replied Lara easily, as if she'd been saying “Gran” her entire life.

She walked up to the counter and picked out three yellow cupcakes decorated with a daisy.

“Six pounds please, madam,” said the cashier.

Lara handed over a twenty and thought about the time Mum had suggested opening a cupcake shop in Essex. Lara remembered saying something about the idea never catching on and “who in their right mind would pay two pounds for a little cupcake?” She now smiled at her lack of foresight, shaking her head absently in the direction of the window and that's when she saw him.

“Tyler?” She grabbed her change and was about to open the door and sing out his name when she noticed the tiny brunette walking beside him—knee-length skirt, pinched-in waist, high heels, cheap accessories, and vast hand gesturing as she spoke. Of course she could have been anyone. A friend—Lara hadn't met
every
single one of Tyler's friends. Or she could have just been a pretty (ish) work colleague, perhaps? No, not on a Saturday. Lara watched as they waited at the crossing, Tyler's protective hand grazing the small of her back as they obeyed the green man and crossed to the other side of the road.

“Miss?”

Lara was jolted out of her torment. “Yes?”

“Your three cupcakes?” said the cashier, handing over a plate of beautifully decorated cakes.

Granny went off to the loo, and Lara immediately confided in her friend.

“What are you doing?” asked Lara as Sandi poked at her phone.

“Calling him.”

“What? Please don't do that!”

“Tyler, we're right near you, in the Cupcake House. Yeah. See you then.”

“What have you done?” asked Lara, half thankful for the boldness of her friend.

“He's on his way.”

As soon as Tyler walked in, Lara felt her tummy flip, as did probably most of the females munching on a beautifully decorated cake. He owned a confident, yet vulnerable presence she'd never seen in another man. And she'd missed that; she'd missed him.

“So you are the Tyler?” asked Granny as Tyler stood nervously over her.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“What type of name is this?”

“My mum gave it to me—”

“In Nigeria, a name means something and is given to a child because of a circumstance. Tyler? Are you a tie? Luckily you are a fine figure of a man. Tall, just like my Soji!”

“Thank you?” he said in a questioning tone.

“In Nigeria, if you are meeting an elderly member of the family for the first time, you must lie on the floor in greeting. You must prostrate!”

Tyler gulped, turning to Lara and then Sandi, busy eating the icing off her cupcake.

“It is okay, I am joking with you! You can embrace me, that is fine, my son!”

Tyler exhaled, stooping down to embrace the older woman, warmly.

“I like your hair,” he said to Lara.

“Thank you.”

“Didn't really get the chance to tell you, the last time we spoke.”

Lara ignored the awkwardness of his comment. “Can I get you a cupcake?”

“Better not, I don't think they'll be better than your mum's.”

Tyler stayed a few minutes out of courtesy, and as he was leaving, Lara touched his arm and whispered, “Can I see you tonight?”

He nodded his head slowly and, without a word, left.

Lara drove Granny back to Artillery Court where Yomi was watching a reality TV documentary about transvestites going back to college.

“I had a wonderful day getting to know this child's friends and seeing where she grew up. Have you been okay?” asked Granny.

“It is well,” replied Yomi, looking up from the TV and smiling at Lara.

“Next time, she will take you, too, don't you worry.”

“If you'd like to?” asked Lara, actually meaning it.

“I would love it,” replied Yomi with a huge smile, which revealed her gapped teeth.

“That's sorted then. I just have a bit to do at work, but when that's over, say in a few days, shouldn't be a problem.”

“Your work is very interesting. I hope you don't mind, but I was looking at that book you left on the table with the pictures of necklaces and bracelets. They were beautiful.”

“They are pretty good. Just some of the new lines the site is going to sell.”

“Yomi is very knowledgeable with women's clothes and things. It has been her business, too. Maybe you can talk about it together.”

Lara doubted Yomi's scant experience with a few African beads would be of any assistance, but she knew what Granny was trying to do.

“Yes, sure, I'll pick your brain about it sometime.”

A look of alarm from the two older women.

“Eh?” said Gran.

“I mean, I'll have a chat with you about it sometime!” Lara said, laughing.

As Yomi fixed two mugs of Milo, Granny turned to Lara.

“Child, why are you still here and not with that fine Tieman?”

“Tyler?”

“Yes. A man like that cannot be left waiting. He is … what shall I say…?” Granny pondered, her eyes squinting as she mumbled about for the words. “Sexy looking. He is sexy looking, just like my Soji. It is all in the eyes…” she said, pleased with her conclusions.

Lara smiled. “I did say I'd go and see him tonight once you guys are settled.”

“We are settled. Now go!”

“To be honest, things are not ‘great' between us,” confessed Lara.

“I could feel it when we met,” said Granny.

“So maybe I should give it a miss tonight.... Is there really any point?”

BOOK: Being Lara
3.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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