Being Lara (26 page)

“Oh, okay,” replied Lara, a little confused but curious about this older woman who spoke fast, didn't pronounce her
th
's, and had such a thick accent, Lara at times found it hard to understand her. Although the room was a little dark, Lara saw two large pictures on the wall—a grown-up couple in full traditional attire sat regally and smiling for the camera. She wondered if she was related to them. She wasn't sure why.

“Mama has many years left on this good earth!” added Stella, fetching in tea on a Father Christmas decorated plastic tray and chewing vigorously on some gum.

“Stella here is the dotter of one of my friends. She is kindly allowing us to stay here for our holiday,” she said, reaching for a Rich Tea biscuit.

“It is such an honor to meet you, my aunty.”

“I'm your aunty?”

The older lady (who soon insisted on being called Granny) turned to Lara. “You are everyone's aunty if you are older than them. This is part of our culture. To be respectful of elders.”

Lara sat in that strangely decorated house for an hour, listening to talk about the neighbors “back home,” the rudeness of tourists at Buckingham Palace, and the certain handsomeness of the man currently on the TV who just happened to be Dale Winton. Granny would flit from one subject to another, leaving Lara with a hungry need to know more.

“This man on the television has the same hands as my Soji, may he rest in peace. I could never marry a man with bad hands!”

Lara had questions. Lots of them. There was so much she would need from this less than frail old lady. So many stories had been absorbed within her. And not just tales about the country of Lara's birth, but also about members of an extended blood family Lara had never met. A grandfather, uncles, aunties, cousins, nieces, and nephews. And as she watched Granny's mouth move in con-junction with her tongue, her hand gestures, and a sudden sparkle in her eyes, Lara knew she needed her.

The silly “finding myself via Brixton” had been pointless. Lara had everything she needed ensconced in the mind of this eighty-plus-year-old grandmother and she couldn't wait to hear everything she had to impart.

They finished two whole packs of Rich Tea.

“So have you married before?” asked Granny.

“No.”

“I didn't see ring on your finger so I thought you had married before and thrown him out.”

“No, I've never married.”

“Are you courting?”

“Sort of. Not really… I mean I'm seeing someone.”

“Either you are courting or not.”

“Then I suppose I am. Yes…”

“In Nigeria you would have married by now. But you have time for that. Take your time. Don't do as many do and marry the first man to help carry your water.”

Lara smiled. This old lady was beginning to fill her up with sunshine. The total antithesis to Yomi, who, as soon as she appeared carrying two bags of shopping, diminished the sunshine.

As Stella helped Yomi pack away the groceries, Lara knew it was time to head home.

“Omolara, please come again,” said Granny as Lara leaned in to kiss her soft cheek. Yomi stood by the beaded doorway, looking on. She got a wave.

“Try and keep me away,” said Lara.

“Why would I try and keep you away?”

“Oh, Granny, it's a saying … never mind!” Lara giggled.

“You sound just like him when you laugh,” said Yomi wistfully.

“Like who?” said Lara and Granny in unison.

“Just … somebody,” replied Yomi as her mouth immediately curved into a frown.

After visiting that little house, Lara felt lighter than she had in days, pumped up with a little more knowledge about Nigeria and her extended family. The Internet was factual, but the way Granny told those stories—the feelings, smells, and colors that came alive—it was almost like being there. Tyler was right.

She started up the engine, and an image of her parents crept into her head. The guilt walked in right behind, of course. Lara hadn't seen them since the party, and it was time she paid them a visit, too.

“Sweet pea, are you all right? We've been so worried about you,” said Mum.

“I'm so sorry, Mum. I just needed time. I know I should have gotten in touch.” Lara handed her mother a pink-and-green paper bag containing goodies from her latest client.

“I know, I know. I don't think any of us have handled this very well.”

“You did nothing wrong, Mum.”

Lara had always walked into her old home filled with love and a huge bag of nostalgic memories. Now, instead, the memory of the last time she'd been there, frantically fleeing from Yomi, became the more dominant image.

“Where's Dad?”

“Where do you think?”

“Shed?”

“In his shed,” confirmed Mum.

Dad was on a chair, reading the back of the newspaper. He looked up, brightening when he saw her. “Hello, love.”

“Sorry, Dad!”

“What for?” he asked as she leaned in for a kiss.

“Running off like that.”

“As soon as we knew you were okay, it was all right. You just needed time to yourself.”

“I did. I do. I needed time to digest everything, you know?” And she really hoped he understood, because out of everyone, Dad's approval was what she craved and cherished the most.

“It's all right, Laralina love. It was a shock for all of us.”

She sat on a plastic chair, still as uncomfortable as ever. Out of what looked like thin air, Dad produced a box of broken biscuits, which he offered to her dutifully.

More biscuits,
she thought guiltily. They were an instant reminder of where she'd been earlier.

“You know, the first time we saw you, your mum fell in love with you. But me, well I was more concerned about the heat and the mosquitoes at night. I didn't dare look at you just in case I saw what she saw. A beautiful little girl just crying out for some love.”

“Why were you like that, Dad?”

“I was worried it might not happen. Your adoption. We'd already lost one child and the authorities were being a little difficult with all the paperwork. It wasn't until I had you in my arms that I allowed myself to believe you were really ours.”

Lara chewed on a broken biscuit.

“For a time there it was just you and me, living in Nigeria for those days while the bureaucracy got sorted. And very quickly, it was too late. I knew you'd already got me. Captured my heart so to speak, not that there's much left of it now … it's not in the greatest condition, all the cigarettes I've smoked! Anyway, you know what I'm trying to say…”

“I think so…” She couldn't speak or she just might lose it.

“Having you was like …
the
most exhilarating elation. And it probably had something to do with how we came to have you. You choosing us like that.”

“I chose you?”

“Definitely. Without a doubt. And it's because of that we always felt we were only allowed to have you for a short time and that you could slip out of our fingers at any given moment.”

“I think I know what you mean.”

“I remember thinking, if this girl ever decides to leave us and go in search of her real parents—it would devastate me. Absolutely kill me. And as the years passed it seemed less and less of a possibility, and you know what? I know this sounds selfish, but I preferred it that way.”

“Oh, Dad.”

“I just hadn't banked on them coming to find
you
.” He turned away then, and Lara knew there was nothing she could say to make him feel better. Yomi and Granny were not going anywhere for now, and Lara didn't have the power to send them away even if she wanted to. And she wasn't sure she did anymore. Well, certainly not Granny, anyway. She was officially torn between the family she knew and loved and the one she'd yet to know.

“I'm so sorry, Dad.”

“Nothing for you to be sorry about. Now let's go inside and make a cuppa.”

Lara spent the whole day in Essex eating Mum's experimental red velvet cake and just being a kid again. It was a bit like old times.

“So what did you think of the cake? First time I've ever tried red velvet; apparently it's become really popular.”

“Delicious, Mum. You know you're the best cook ever.”

“I try…” she said with a jokey wink.

As Mum walked Lara to the car, arms laden with rectangular Tupperware full of food, she asked another question.

“What do you think of your new grandmother?”

“She's okay. I mean she seems all right…” she replied, unable to look Mum in the eye.

“It's all right, you know. I mean, it would be nice for you to have a grandma. I always felt guilty for you not knowing my mum.”

“What happened with her?”

“A long story.”

“That's what you've always said. But you never really talk about her or your brothers and sister.”

“Because there is nothing much to talk about. We lost touch, and that was that, you know? Never mind all that; I've got Agnes and Maria, and they are like sisters to me. You and I both know that love's not determined by blood. Those closest to you sometimes have no blood connection whatsoever. Just look at you and Sandi.”

Lara belted up and wound down the window. “Thanks for the food, Mum. I shouldn't need to cook for a week.”

“Not that you'd ever try! Thanks for the scarf and silver earrings. They are beautiful!!” enthused Mum as Lara put the car into gear.

“No problem, Mum.”

“Reminds me of my pop days, all these freebies. We have that in common at least!

“See ya later, sweet pea,” she sang as Lara switched on the air conditioner, the window sliding upward and the tones of Tuface sweeping through the speakers.

“Ohmigosh, what have you done?” asked Sandi.

“My hair's a little different but—”

“Oh, come on, this is even more clichéd than going to Brixton! Is having braids in your hair supposed to make you more
African
or something?”

“If you let me finish… I've always wanted to get them done,” said Lara, twirling a long thin braid with her fingers.

“So did you go back to Brixton to get them done?”

“N … no.... I went to a really nice salon on…”

“Where?” Sandi raised an eyebrow.

“Knightsbridge—”

“You did what? They must have cost you a fortune! I know a girl who knows a girl who would have done that for fifty quid!”

“Do you? How?”

“Hello!? I may be different now, but I'm still friends with some good people who looked out for me when I had nothing. You know that!”

“I thought you'd left that all behind.”

“Please, I'd go mad if I had. I still know a few people from the old neighborhoods I used to live in. I'm not just Chanel and Muswell Hill. I have a past, Lara, and it's a part of me. I wouldn't just abandon it!” she tooted. Sandi's words struck a chord. “Next time, I'll get Nikki to sort you out. Damn, I can't believe you're my friend sometimes!”

“Neither can I,” Lara said ironically.

“So this is all to impress this new family?”

“I don't need to impress anyone. No, it's all for me,” said Lara, pumped with false bravado, what Sandi had said about the past ringing in her ears.

“Well, I know who won't be impressed… Tyler. He might not go for your new look. Seems like a creature of habit to me!”

“He'll be okay,” she replied unconfidently, twisting another braid with the tips of her fingers, not quite used to the feeling of heaviness on her head.

“You know nothing about men, do you?”

Indeed, what Lara knew about men she could fit on a postage stamp.

She remembered once, at fifteen, Sandy referred to her as a “late bloomer.”

“Guess what?” said Lara as they sat in the garden one evening after school, Sandy kicking at one of Dad's gnomes.

Sandy looked deep into Lara's eyes, a smile slowly creeping across her face. “Ohmigosh, me, too!” she squealed.

“How do you know?” asked Lara, a little confused, recalling the trip to the chemist and Mum buying a jumbo-sized pack of towels, the look of pride on her face as if she'd just won an award.

“I can tell by your face. Who is it, Lara?”

“Who is what?”

“Who's asked you out?”

“No one. I started my period!” she said, feeling rather deflated with the lack of impact that announcement now had.

“Oh, that! I started mine ages ago, as you know.”