Scars (Romola 2)

31: Mrs. Ope and her Daughter

The buffet table. That was the only place he could find peace. Only if he could successfully dart through the crowd without running into a family friend or business associate. He reached across his chest and tapped his mother's arm lightly. "Mum I need to go to the gents."

Her smile froze on her face and she turned to him, speaking through locked teeth. Her transparent nose mask made everything easier to see. "Not now. After your presentation."He itched to loosen the tie around his neck. Maybe that was the reason air failed to enter his lungs. He drew in a deep breath but it vanished upon reaching his lungs.

The buffet table. No one would think to strike a conversation with him while he was trying to pick a meal. Although, the thought of a meal entering his stomach caused it to flutter in protest.

His mother's linked arm tightened as she pulled him across the room to a middle-aged woman dressed in a turquoise lace one handed dress. The middle-aged woman stood beside a younger woman. They both stared at a picture on the wall.

Olumide eyed the picture. It was an abstract painting, Tomiwa had said but, Olumide shook his head, this looked like something even his nephew could do- with streaks of colours dotting one edge of the canvas to another.

"Is this who I think it is?" His mother's voice thinned.

Olumide stared at the ceiling, taking note of the slanting wooden boards that joined the ceiling to the wall. Of course, she knew who she was talking to.

"Francesca?" The woman placed a hand on her robust bust before leaning forward and placing an air kiss on both sides of his mother's powdered cheeks. "I haven't see you since Ivory Coast."

"Yes. Same here. How are you doing? And how is your family?"

"Great. Where is your husband?"

"He's somewhere with the other investors." His mother raised his hand and sprinkled them backwards as though she had magic in them.

Olumide eyed the hand. The only magic she had was manipulating people with her charms. His mother continued, with her smile. "You know how those men are."

"Yes, of course." The woman nodded before her eyes slid to him. "And who are you here with?"

His mother placed her hand on his shoulder. "This is my son. Olumide Joseph Makinde.""Ah, the young Joseph. He looks so much like his brother. How is Jacob anyway?"

His mother's hand went limp in his hold. The corners of her lips dropped and the Fuji music, blasting from strategically placed speakers in the hall, filled the silence.

"Oh mummy." The young woman in shimmering light purple dress said. "Don't you know?"

The girl leaned towards her mother, her short platinum bob hair bouncing, cupped her hand against her mother's ear and whispered before looking towards Olumide and his mother with lowered eyes. "I'm sorry. She wasn't aware."

"My word, Francesca. Tell me that it isn't true. Your son? Poor Jacob."

His mother's lips pressed in a firm line. Her bright plastic smile had faded. Perhaps, his mother hadn't expected someone to be unaware of Muyiwa's death. The silence stretched. The other woman shifted on her feet. "Francesca?"

Olumide took this as his chance to speak. "It's true. It was an unfortunate incident.""Oh. I am so sorry." The woman stretched out her hand and hugged him. "He was such a good boy. May the good Lord keep his soul."

"It wasn't your fault. There is nothing to be sorry for."

Olumide doubted that Muyi's soul rested in heaven but he wished that was the case. It was better than knowing he sent his brother on an express trip to hell.