Ice Cream

Chapter Nine

In the morning, I had a hearty breakfast of oatmeal, boiled fish and a fruit salad consisting of berries, avocados and yoghurt, prepared by Harriet. They were a part of the food added in my list for a healthy diet. As she served me, she gave a knowing look that confirmed she knew what I was going through. I smiled and ate voraciously, amazed that I was that hungry, afterwards, I took a dose of my daily medicine. Also, I was in a fairly good mood courtesy of last night. I had ultimately solved the puzzle and knew what my mother wanted and Samira's role to play.

I drove to work myself, ordering Phillip to take the day off to cater to whatever family issues he had. His reaction was priceless because he was always on standby whenever I needed him. I felt capable of driving myself to work and visiting Samira much later so we could discuss the way forward. At work, I was swamped with too many meetings and appointments but I made sure I had lunch—boiled rice and lean meat sauce with lots of vegetables—in determination to live a healthy lifestyle. Again, I ate with gusto, questioning myself if there was something in the drugs that increased my appetite. However, I believed it was much better for my wellbeing.

Getting back to my desk, I checked my phone for any notifications and was shocked to find out I had missed three calls from Samira. I grew alarmed for the fact that she had never called me before and now that she did, she called me three times at a go. I dialed her number but it went straight to voicemail. Worried, I called two more times hoping she'd miraculously pick up, however, she didn't. This distracted me so much at work. I couldn't just leave because I had some foreign investors that I couldn't turn down, therefore, I endured numerous meetings until eventually, the meetings ended. Once I gave my last order to my staff, I grabbed my suitcase and fled the office like I was being chased after. Calm down dude, what if she is fine but just wanted to hear from you and probably invite you out again? That could be a possible idea, nevertheless, I couldn't shake off the feeling that something wasn't right.

The drive to the Ice cream shop seemed longer than it usually was. It felt like eternity before I got there. At my destination, I found the other worker present and another guy who appeared like a junkie rather than a waiter. I glanced around in search of Samira but she was absent. The lady, her coworker, saw me and her eyes twinkled making me feel a little uncomfortable. She walked up to me, swinging her hips like she was on a runaway for the Miss World pageantry. When she got to where I stood finally, she grabbed a strand of her hair with her fingers and twirled it, seductively I think. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"I can see you've made her too sore to come to work this morning, you had to come all the way here by yourself, huh?" What the hell was she saying? I made who too sore? Sore from doing what? The latter thought irked me, I had no choice but to look heavenwards, wondering how Samira could endure working with a lady whose thoughts were always in the gutter. For a moment, I forgot why I was here in the first place.

"Good evening to you too." I replied sarcastically. "We didn't do anything we're being accused of. Actually, I came here to see Samira. Is she by any chance here?" I asked expectantly. She looked me up and down, trying to detect if I was lying. I returned the gesture and soon, it became a staring contest. Finally, she gave up.

"Sam didn't come to work today. I didn't make a fuss over her absence because I thought she spent the night with you. However, now that you've confirmed she didn't stay with you, where could she be?"

"I have no idea. The last time I saw her was when I walked her home last night but then at lunch today, I realised I had missed her calls. I kept thinking she called to say hi so I returned her calls but then, she didn't pick up. Therefore, I decided to drop by to see her physically." I expatiated all that had transpired.

"Hmm let me call her myself perhaps she's sick and decided to stay home to get better." the lady's explanation also sounded plausible. I watched as she dialed Samira's number four times and got nothing out of it.

"Do you think she's all right?" I enquired with worry laced in my voice.

"She should be. I know Sam. She's a fighter, I'm sure she's safe." She replied. The word 'fighter' resonated on my mind. I was reminded of my mother calling me the same word at the train station. In a way, that affirmed that Samira was truly a channel for my newly discovered mission.

A snap of fingers brought me out of my train of thought. It was the lady—I had no idea what she was called—who needed my attention. "Are you even listening to me?" I nodded to which she proceeded, "I was thinking we should go check her at her apartment, is that okay with you?" I nodded again.

"Great! If you'll just give me a few minutes to close up the place, I'll be right back." With that, she trode off, her catwalk still in motion, to announce the shop was about to close. Everyone got ready to leave and by the time they were gone, fifteen minutes had passed. The junkie dude also packed up but instead of leaving like I thought he would, he stood, waiting for her to lock up the place and then trailed behind her. I guessed he was coming with us then.

"Let's go!" she exclaimed and I offered my car to be used as a means to get there rather than the junkie's deadbeat truck. When I pressed the control button attached to the car keys, the doors of the car spread open from bottom to top, making the car shaped like a bird flapping it's wings, ready to fly. The junkie dude whistled behind me and Rose gasped in shock. I smirked, certainly enjoying their reactions. Who wouldn't? I helped the junkie guy slide into the back seat while the lady sat shot gun and then I walked towards the driver's side, got in and ignited the car.

"I don't think we've introduced ourselves yet. My name is Chiké and you are...?" I encouraged them to speak. For certain, I was tired of mentally calling them 'the lady' and 'Junkie dude'.

"Oh that's true. My bad!" the lady squeaked and looked behind to stare at Junkie dude. "This is Malcolm and I'm Rose." oh Rose, such a simple name for a complicated Lady. Oh well, Roses had thorns that served as complications so I guess the name suited her perfectly. I nodded to the guy through the rearview mirror and shook Rose before zooming off.

The ride to Samira's house was quick, thanks to my sports car. I patted it as we got out of the vehicle. At the lobby, everyone stared at us like we had two heads or something. Those who were acquainted with Rose, exchanged greetings with her. We made use of the mini elevator to get to Samira's apartment. At the door, we knocked and knocked but received no response. When Rose produced a spare key, I realized they were truly close friends. As if reading my thoughts, her eyes caught mine and she winked at me. This time, I rolled my eyes. The lady—sorry, Rose—was too dramatic!

She opened the door so smoothly like it was her own apartment and walked in swiftly. There was no one in the living room so she went into what I guessed was the bedroom while Malcolm and I stayed behind, waiting for her. I had always wondered how Samira's apartment would be like. From the exterior, it felt like a house found in story books but from the interior, it was quite different. It was smaller than I expected. More so, it was rough around the edges; an old apartment. A lot of work still needed to be done to call it a cozy place. I was perplexed that a beautiful, intelligent and highly insightful woman like her was living here. It was indeed unsuitable for her. She needed an upgrade badly.

"I've looked everywhere, she's not here." Rose announced, coming out of the room, looking concerned for her friend. I snapped out of my thoughts of the poor maintenance apartment and zeroed my mind on the present. Was Samira missing or kidnapped? Was that why she had called me, to alert me of her predicament? There was only one way to find out. I grabbed my phone from the inner breast pocket of my black suit jacket and called Stan, my hired investigator and related the current situation to him. He promised to get me some news in ten minutes. As a man who stood by his words, my phone buzzed exactly ten minutes later, with a message from him. I sucked in a deep breath as I read the text message.

"What is it? Is she all right?" Rose asked, all panicky and gaga. For the life of me, I hoped Samira was all right.

"I hope she is. Right now, she's at the police station. She was arrested this morning, on her way to work!" was my reply as I acknowledged the fact that I had suspected earlier at work that something wasn't right.