Scars (Romola 2)

48: A Doctor and Her Patient

"I wasn't sure you were going to come." Victoria grinned.

Romola settled into the chair, staring at the various booths in the eatery. On the left, there was a honeycomb wall that marked the length of each booth. A central walkway leading to the counter top divided the booths into two sections.

Eating in a place like this was a scene that belonged in her imagination. This was Benjamin's kind of place. He was the king of enjoyment.

"I called you." Romola settled into the chair. "I promised I would come."

She had almost turned back. The war that broke out over Sekemi's resistance to her leaving the store was enough to drain the energy out of her. And she didn't trust herself not to lunge at the girl's neck. It was past 4pm when she'd decided to leave. The store would be closing in three hours. No doubt the girl would go mouthing off to Iya Tobi again. Just for having to work the normal three hours shift till the end of the day.

She missed Rosemary more than she cared to admit.

But those thoughts were at least forty minutes behind her. Her headache had subsided. Was it a good idea to keep meeting Olumide's wife? Especially when she didn't want anything to do with the man?

"How are you feeling?" Victoria asked.

Romola stared at the cream ceiling where swirls of grey ran across the roof and formed a honeycomb pattern at the edge, bleeding to the top of the walls. Outside the orange glow from the setting sun gave way to a purple sky.

"Very fine."

"I got you something that could help with the headache but, I think you need to come to the hospital for a check-up."

"I'm fine." Romola eyed the white pill bottle in Vicky's hands. Shivers passed underneath her skin at the thought of swallowing those drugs. "I don't need it."

"What if you have another episode?"

"It was just this one time and-" Romola drawled, eyeing the ring on Vicky's fingers. "I've been fine all these years."

Vicky's lips thinned. "Many people die of diseases they could have prevented if they just went for a check-up. If it's about the money-"

"No." Romola shook her head. "It's not that."

"Then what?"

"Why?" Romola tilted her head to stare at Vicky.

A few strands of dark purple hair danced freely from the back-length brown ponytail Vicky wore.

"Why are you trying to help me? I don't know you. Does Olumide know you are here?"

"No." Vicky shook her head. "He doesn't. He wouldn't want me here."

"Then why? Shouldn't you be afraid that he will get mad or worse, that I may steal your husband. And..." Romola found the words stuck to her throat like eba to the baking bowl.

She couldn't say the words.

"Forget Olumide. This is between you and I. A doctor and her patient."

Romola scoffed. "But what could we possibly have to say to each other?"

"What do you remember?"

"I told you already. I don't remember much." Romola's voice rose with each word.

Vicky sat back, looking around until her eyes lit on a man dressed in a yellow and cream shirt bearing the name of the eatery in cursive letters above his left breast pocket. She waved at the man. He arrived at their table in five steps.

"We're ready to order. I'll have some of your strawberry and peach ice-cream. Medium cup." Victoria faced Romola. "What would you have?"

Romola stared at her fingers. Her nails were in need of serious cleaning and filing.

Victoria continued. "She'll have some water. If she needs anything else, we'll call."

"As you wish." The man bowed, turning away. "My queen bee."

"Have you eaten anything today?" Victoria picked up some of the serviette from the plastic yellow cylinder on the table

"Why does that matter?"

She'd had breakfast and she would have dinner when she got home. Corona had helped her to adopt a two-square meal diet.

"Hunger could contribute to your headaches and when you take these drugs, it could cause more problems."

"I don't care about the headache."

"Then why are we here?"

Romola sighed, picking a sheet of the paper serviette and tearing it into two. "I want to know. I want to know what I am forgetting and you seem to be the only person who can tell me."

"Is that all?" Victoria sharp eyes captured hers.

"Am I supposed to ask of something else?"

Victoria folded her arms. "What do you want to remember?"

"Every thing. From the very first time we met."

"Okay but what do you remember?"

"I already told you." Romola traced square patterns on one of the divided serviette piece. "I was with Yetunde. I was eating. I remember Yetunde and I, talking. Sometimes, I see flashes. Like images but I don't know what they are. I remember something about drowning in a desert. They feel like dreams."

"Olumide said you mentioned something like that after you came out of coma."

Romola looked sideways, watching the woman on the next table leaning into her husband and laughing. "You keep mentioning coma."

"Yes, when Olumide brought you. Let me just start from the beginning. Olumide called me in a state of panic and told me someone was dying. He brought you to the hospital and you were completely out of it. We had to run a toxicology test on you because Yetunde poisoned you."

"Well, that makes sense." Romola twisted her lips. "I know she poisoned me."

"Yeah. We weren't sure if you were going to live." Vicky paused. "When you woke up you couldn't remember anything. Olumide was at your side through all of this and insisted you stayed in his house. The next thing I remember was him accusing me of lying."

"The last time I saw him, he accused me of prostitution."

Victoria's mouth remained partly opened and her eyebrows rose as the waiter arrived with their order and set it on the table.

Romola reached for the bottled water and chugged some of it. "Your husband has a dirty mouth."

"That doesn't sound like Olumide?"

"It's like you don't even know your own husband. He accused me of trying to steal his money. Why would I want his money? Does he even know why I was there?"