Page 41 of Cursed Daughters
IV
She was returning from a long walk with Sango when she saw him standing there at the front of the gates. Her brain told her Golden Boy was still in England, but her heart sent her feet racing. He caught her as she leapt into his arms, and then she kissed his lips, his cheeks, his forehead, his chin. Sango barked at their feet.
“What the hell,” she began as he lowered her to the ground. “I thought you were away for another few weeks.”
“I wanted to surprise you.”
“Well. You did. Shit.” She took a couple of steps back from him, so she could see him properly. He had more hair on his chin. And he seemed taller than she remembered. “When did you get in?”
“Two hours ago.” And he had come straight to her.
“How much time you got?”
“None. My dad will be expecting me. I didn’t say I was branching here. But I wanted to see you, even if just for a second.”
She kissed him again. “Okay. Give me something before you leave.”
“I had hoped you would ask.” And he dipped into his pocket and brought out a long, rectangular velvet box. Her eyes opened wide. She had never asked him for jewellery and wasn’t all that interested in it; and yet she felt thoroughly moved that he had bought some for her.
She opened the box. In it was a dainty chain. There was no locket, no pendant.
“It’s an ankle bracelet,” he told her. “I thought it would be your jam.”
She felt her eyes water. She lifted it to admire and then he took it from her. She watched as he knelt down and unhooked the catch. Her heart somersaulted. He tenderly placed the chain around her ankle, brushing her skin and sending volts up and down her body. When he’d done it up, she twisted her foot this way and that, and the anklet sparkled.
“I love it, thank you.”
“I…” he said. “I love you.”
The world stopped.
She knew she would always remember this moment. She would dwell on it for years to come, recount it to herself, to her children and grandchildren. The way he looked at her with his large sand-coloured eyes. The feel of his hand on her waist. She beamed at him.
“I love you too.”
He grinned, showing off all his beautiful teeth and pulling her to him.
“Good,” he said as he burrowed his face into her neck. He smelt so inviting. She breathed him in. “Mum is around. I want you to come meet her.”
V
Monife saw the bird a couple of seconds before anyone else did. She recognised it, a black kite, just standing in the doorway to the living room as if it were a member of the family. And she predicted that she had four seconds to figure out how to minimise the chaos that would ensue. Four seconds to try to plot how to catch a bird of prey, something she had never before attempted. She tried to signal to her cousin, who was lying on the couch, engrossed in her textbook. Her mother was on the other side of the room marking papers and her aunt was painting her nails. But they wouldn’t stay distracted for long.
And then, her mother made a sound that was half gasp, half cry.
“Monife. Monife. Monife!” she chanted through her teeth, as if Monife was the one that had summoned the bird into the room. Tolu, of course, was nowhere to be seen, otherwise perhaps she would have called him. But then Tolu was basically a guest in their home these days, turning up to sleep and eat, then disappearing off with some delusional girl. So it was Mo’s name that was always on the tip of her mother’s tongue.
Aunty Kemi glanced away from the TV, then squealed, causing the bird to spread its wings and fly up to the ceiling, crashing from wall to wall, looking for a way out. Ebun snapped her book shut as Aunty Kemi started to speak in tongues. Mo’s mother proceeded to spin around three times, one way and then the other—undoubtedly a method given to her by one of her spiritual advisers. Ebun tried to catch the bird, but it was in a frenzied state.
It was chaos.
Ebun grabbed a broom from the kitchen whilst Bunmi was running around the room, tobacco leaves falling out of her mouth, ducking to avoid the bird. The bird was equally confused, flapping its wings and flying into the window, knocking off photographs on the walls and tipping over a lamp. A picture of Mo fell to the ground and shattered. Aunty Kemi was shouting that they should guide the bird to the door but was staying firmly in her corner; and it was hard to hear her over Sango’s incessant barking. Monife got closest to capturing it, grabbing it with her hands when it briefly landed on the side table, but then she recoiled when she felt the shiver of its body. She was now out of breath, standing with her hands on her knees, watching the scene unfolding before her. Four madwomen, a crazed dog and a terrified bird.
She burst into laughter.
They paused to look at her.
“Kí ló n pa ? lérin?” asked her mother.
