Chapter 38
38
The following evening, I jump on the train to meet Shona at Peckham Rye station. We’re going dress shopping for the gala – she recently discovered this amazing African-centric boutique on Instagram and said we have to check it out.
I slide through the ticket barriers and there she is, smiling ear-to-ear, her long braids tied back into a ponytail. She must have had a lot of fun with Fonzo last night. I wonder if she will mention anything.
‘Someone’s glowing,’ I point out as we fall into a hug.
Shona frowns, amused. ‘It’s just sweat, babe. The train was rammed.’ She loops her arm into mine and, over the loud backdrop of an evangelical street preacher, she tells me about her disastrous journey while we walk down the busy high street. We turn into an indoor market flanked with small shops.
‘This boutique,’ I say, breathing in the stuffy air, ‘they cater for plus-size people, right?’
Shona drags her attention from a kiosk selling traditional Afro-Caribbean herbal medicine. ‘Of course, hun,’ she says. ‘I wouldn’t suggest we go otherwise. Ooh – I think this is it.’
We stop outside a shop with the name NANA BADU in giant Kente colours at the top. In the window display is a dramatic but elegant maxi dress and a geometric-patterned jumpsuit. A Jill Scott song is playing. I love it already.
We head inside and I’m overwhelmed with colour. Loud, vibrant, in-your-face colour. So us.
Excitedly, Shona and I trawl through each rack, pulling out exquisite dresses made from lace and Ankara fabric. When our hands become too full, we head into one of the changing rooms to try them on.
‘What do you think?’ she says after she puts on her first dress – it has a patterned frilly skirt with a plunging neckline.
I click my fingers. ‘Yasss, girl! I love it!’
She vogues – posing like a model at the end of a runway.
I step into the opening of my first gown – a gorgeous off-shoulder ruched dress with a thigh slit.
‘Let me zip you up,’ Shona offers.
I hold the bodice against my chest and turn my back towards her.
‘And do you know who else will love it?’ I ask with a twitching smirk. I catch Shona’s confused expression in the mirror.
‘No. Who?’ she says.
‘Fonzo.’
She lets go of the zip and slaps my bum.
I crack up. ‘Hey! What was that for? I know you guys went on a date last night.’
In the mirror I watch her arch her hand towards the centre of her back, clasp the zipper and pull it right down. Wow .
‘Well?’ I prod.
‘Okay, fine.’ She whips around. She pushes her bottom lip out and in a quiet voice says, ‘Temi, I really like him.’
I screech as if she’s just announced that she’s engaged and then I thrust my arms around her, squeezing her tight. For Shona to say those four words must mean she likes him a lot.
‘Details. Spill,’ I demand as I turn around again. This time she zips me up straight away.
‘Ooh, I’m loving this high slit on you,’ she coos. ‘Let’s see it without your socks.’
‘Don’t worry about my damn socks, woman! Spill!’
While we try on different dresses, Shona fills me in. It all started when Fonzo invited her to his studio to help pick out some photographs for the gala. The light was good and he began to snap a few pictures of her. At first, she told him to stop, but then he showed her the photos. She was so impressed by his skills that she literally let her hair down and told him to take another. It then progressed into a laughter-filled photoshoot. She felt so comfortable around him.
‘I told him I was happy to pay for the photos. And do you know what he said? I could pay by going on a date with him.’
A squeal lurches out of me. ‘Go, Fonzo! I never knew he had it in him. So, you went on a date. Did you kiss?’
Shona covers her blushing face with the silk underlay of her second dress.
I gasp. ‘I knew it!’
It’s so nice to see Shona genuinely excited about dating again. I always wondered when she would meet someone and what that person would be like. They would need to make her feel safe enough to let her guard down. I’m glad she’s realized that you can’t paint all men with the same brush, that it’s okay to open your heart again.
‘You guys are officially my favourite couple,’ I say, bending to take off my socks. ‘You need a name. How about Shonza?’
She laughs and neatens the bow that she had tied around her waist. ‘Now we can go on double dates,’ she says so casually she might as well be telling me the weather.
‘Huh?’
‘Don’t “huh” me, missus. What wer e you up to last night? Fonzo told me there were pashminas and shisha.’
I try to paint Shona a picture, melting as I think about the effort Wale put in. I told her how soft Wale was with me; how emotionally mature he now is.
‘Did you kiss?’ she asks, hurling the question back in my face.
Sucking in my lips, I look side to side.
‘You more than kissed, didn’t you? Okay, what base?’
‘We only kissed, Shona! Well, there was some touching.’
She looks at me as if to say, Yeah , I know.
‘So, where does that leave things with The Ultimate Payback ?’ she says, reaching for another lovely dress.
I twiddle my fingers in front of my stomach and take a deep breath. ‘I’ve decided that I’m not going to publish it.’
Shona drops the dress she’s holding; the hanger clatters on the floor.
‘What! Are you serious? You told me that Dionne was happy for you to make some changes.’
Shakily, I nod. Tears are stinging my eyes.
Shona bounds forward and pulls me into her. My chest burns with the ache you get when you do the right but hard thing.
Now that I’ve said it aloud, there’s no going back.
When I returned home last night, two things were undeniably clear: I had fallen deeply for Wale and I had earned back his trust. And because of this I knew I wouldn’t be able to look myself in the mirror if I signed the deal. Since agreeing to it, I’ve been split into two: my ambition versus my morals. The very fact I was so unsettled tells me everything. And then yesterday happened. And I had to face the possibility of losing the man I love. And I cannot go through that again. Not even for the money and chance at success.
‘And there’s also the fact that Dionne wants me to write a sequel,’ I go on as I try to rationalize my very big decision. ‘Not to mention the burden of promoting a book I had no business putting out.’
Shona looks at me tenderly. ‘Are you going to call Mayee?’
‘Tomorrow.’ I breathe air out of my nose, the anxiety already creeping in. ‘I know she will be pissed …’ I stop myself from thinking about the consequences for fear of spiralling.
Shona’s eyes are welling. ‘Well, whatever happens, I’ll be right here to support you.’
We go back to trying all the dresses. Shona and I whittle it down to one each. While I’ve gone for a show-stopping maxi-print ball gown, Shona has opted for a floor-length mermaid with an elasticated waist and an oversized rosette over the shoulder.
Finally, we head towards the till where a dark-skinned lady in a crop top is waiting. She takes our garments, flashing a gem on her side tooth as she smiles.
While she folds the dresses, Shona scrolls on her phone. I pinch one of the many business cards on the counter. I’m about to put it in my purse when I do a double-take.
‘Oh my gosh! That’s my dream dress!’ I stare at the tiny image on the back of the card, stunned.
‘Do you still want this one?’ The lady raises the bag. ‘The one on my card is from last year’s summer collection but I can make it for you if you prefer.’
‘Sorry, yes, I still want that one. But this one is on my vision board. I’m a writer and this is the dress I hope to wear to my book launch one day.’
I wait to feel like an imposter, but I don’t.
‘Wow, you’ve written a book. That’s so dope. Well, you’ve got my details, so whenever you’re ready.’
I’m surprised by Shona’s lack of reaction – surely the universe is trying to tell me something.
I turn to her. ‘Hey! Shona! This lady – sorry, what’s your name?’
‘Nana.’
‘Nana designed my dream dress.’
Shona looks up from her phone, her expression twisted with worry. She gnaws her lip. ‘Don’t freak out …’ Then hands me her phone.
And just like that, my world implodes.