Chapter 17
17
It all makes sense.
Wale’s reluctance to talk about his family.
His shift in energy anytime I bring them up.
Wale was a carer .
And perhaps he still is. Maybe this is what Uncle Les and Aunty Shirley didn’t want to talk about. But I don’t understand. Why would Wale not share this information with me? There’s nothing wrong with looking after a loved one.
On the way back to reception, Kathy introduces me to a handful of people crammed into a small room, and then she ushers me into a crummy kitchen where we dump our mugs in an even crummier-looking sink.
She gives me a warm hug goodbye. ‘If you need anything else, you know where to find me.’
Outside, the weather is the epitome of British summer: breezy with a hint of sun to fool people that it’s warm when it really isn’t. I’m wearing a sleeveless tank top. Damn. I wish I’d brought a sweater.
Brushing my hands up and down my arms, I fetch out my phone. There’s a WhatsApp message from Wale.
Wale:
Hey, how did the interview with Kathy go?
Free to meet up for a debrief if you are x
I register the kiss at the end. Interesting . Then his status: online. I can’t suddenly avoid him, no matter how perplexing my feelings are, so I tell him that I’m available now, and after a few back and forths we agree to meet at a nearby park. Wale lives close by.
Ten minutes later, he approaches the entrance. For once, his athletic silhouette isn’t the first thing I notice. Today he’s wearing a black face mask.
‘Hay fever,’ he says after he catches my questioning expression.
He stretches out his arms. I give him the quickest of hugs and yet my heart skitters as if it’s being physically shaken.
‘We can go somewhere else if the pollen is too much.’
‘Nah, nah. It’s cool. I took one of those tablets.’
We find a secluded spot on the grass with more sun than shade. I cross my legs and lean back, the dry grass prickling my palms. Since leaving Kathy’s office, I’ve been drawing up different scenarios: Wale looking after his mum; Wale looking after his dad. Both of them are faceless because I’ve never met them before. Even as Wale plucks a daisy and twiddles the stem between his fingers, I can’t help but see the teenage boy he used to be.
‘So … your meeting with Kathy. How did it go?’
A gust of breeze cuts through my top. Wale was smart to wear a sweater.
‘Really good,’ I reply. ‘You’re right. The woman is …’ I shake my head, breathless.
‘Yeah, she’s phenomenal, right? What did you guys talk about?’ He pulls off his face mask and shoves it away. It’s hard to tell if he’s genuinely curious or trying to work out if I know more than I’m letting on. Kathy had innocently assumed that because I’m his ghostwriter, I had already been informed about his caring experience. It doesn’t feel right telling him that she revealed it. This seems like something that should come from him.
‘She said you were a slacker,’ I reply matter-of-factly. Wale chucks the daisy at my head and misses. We both laugh, and for a fleeting moment it feels like we’ve never stopped dating. ‘No, seriously, she gave me some really good insights. She also told me –’ I exhale – ‘that ACE is struggling to stay afloat. That’s why you’re organizing the gala, isn’t it? Wale, I owe you an apology. I’m not going to lie. I thought it was all just part of your rebrand.’
Wale shakes his head. ‘It sucks, man,’ he says, completely bypassing my admission. ‘I mean, what’s gonna happen to all those carers? And it’s not like they get loads from the government, and yet they help keep this country running.’ He breathes sharply and then, looking directly at me, says, ‘Temi, any money I get from this book, I’m giving it all to ACE.’
‘Wow, Wale. That’s very noble of you,’ I say. I hold back from telling him he won’t see any royalties until his book outearns his advance – if it does at all. Then, tilting my head at an angle, I ask, ‘How come I’m only seeing this side of you now?’
A crease deepens between his brows. ‘What do you mean?’ he says, swatting away a fly on his nose.
‘When we were dating,’ I carry on, ‘you never told me that your job meant this much to you.’
Wale’s gaze flickers to his trainers. He pulls at one of the tongues.
Suddenly, I feel guilty. I wasn’t expecting him to tell me about his caring experience now, and so I’m taken aback when he says, ‘Remember my ex, Cammie?’
His radio interview comes to mind. ‘Yeah, what about her?’ I say.
He rubs his brow and avoids making eye contact. ‘When we were together, she tried to get me to leave ACE, y’know.’
‘Seriously?!’
Wale’s impression says, I know . ‘Basically, she tried to steer me towards something more corporate.’
I can’t help it. I let out a loud scoff and wince. ‘Sorry, how long were you guys together?’
‘For about three years.’
‘So, what I’m hearing is –’ I fold my arms – ‘your ex-girlfriend forgot you have your own life.’
‘But we were building a life together,’ Wale says. ‘A lifestyle she didn’t think I was earning enough to maintain. Basically, she was embarrassed about my job. Told her family and friends that I worked in “sales”.’
I stare at him, shell-shocked. ‘Gosh, Wale. No offence but she sounds awful. What the heck did you see in her?’
And with a twisty smile, Wale says, ‘She had a big bum.’
I kiss my teeth and give him the biggest eye-roll.
‘Nah, in all seriousness,’ he says, laughing, ‘Cammie was like a goddess to me. She was crazy smart, ambitious, not to mention stunning as hell. In my head, she was out of my league. So, I guess I saw it as a privilege to be with her.’
I scrunch my brows. How Wale can think any girl is out of his league is beyond me.
‘So, when I met you …’ He sets his eyes on me and what feels like a light shiver runs down my arms. It ’ s the wind , I tell myself. Definitely the wind . ‘And you’re those things too: smart, ambitious, beautiful –’ he lingers on the word – ‘my guard went up.’
I feel a tinge of heat. Thank God for my melanin, otherwise I’m sure my cheeks would be the colour of beets right now. I shift my focus to a dog in the distance, chasing after a ball. Wale’s compliments will always do something to me. After a beat, he carries on.
‘I know you and Cammie are two different people,’ he says, ‘but like her, your parents are loaded—’
‘They didn’t always have money,’ I tell him.
‘I know,’ he says softly. ‘And let me be clear, coming from a rich family is not an issue. But it does make me a bit insecure about mine. Cammie has one of those sitcom families. You know, the type that have dinner around the table and go on holidays abroad. Growing up, my brother and I ate in our bedroom. And the last time we went on a family holiday, I was practically a baby. I just wish I had what you have, y’know?’
He looks at me for an extra second before shifting his attention to the running dog. I see the great sadness in his eyes as he turns away. A pang of guilt hits me in the throat. I wish I had not put so much emphasis on the whole meet-the-parents thing. Because the more I learn about Wale, the more I realize that things with him are not black and white. Perhaps him keeping parts of his life to himself is his coping mechanism. Perhaps he gets the same insecurity I feel whenever I open up about Seth.
I try to think of something to say but I don’t know what. No words feel as if they’ll be enough.
He doesn’t move; I don’t rush to fill in the silence. Eventually, he turns to me with a wide grin. ‘Gosh. Therapy got man all vulnerable and that.’ He lets out a dry laugh.
‘I like vulnerable Wale,’ I say softly.