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―What?‖ she asks. ―You‘re underestimating<br />
me? I‘ve had many men. I‘m a very<br />
passionate lover.‖<br />
He laughs loud and claps, causing people<br />
to turn around.<br />
She retaliates. ―Isn‘t it dangerous for you to<br />
leave a teenager at home on her own this<br />
late with armed robbers prowling?‖<br />
―She‘s with her cousins.‖<br />
―You might want to pick her up soon,‖ she<br />
says, reaching for her glass.<br />
―Her cousins are in Lagos.‖<br />
―So there is no reason to run home<br />
tonight.‖<br />
―No.‖<br />
She crosses her legs. It is not as if she has<br />
misinterpreted him or vice versa. She<br />
imagines his skin against hers, his hands,<br />
his tongue and hard-on. Her desire is<br />
insistent, almost jeering. Why the small<br />
talk? Why not now? She gave up her<br />
virginity when she had no more use for it.<br />
Losing her virginity was like discovering<br />
her hair was not her crowning glory.<br />
She is heady from the Cointreau, but more<br />
so from the thought of having a safe<br />
indiscretion. A security guard in the lobby<br />
gives her the same meddlesome look she<br />
encountered when she sat down. That can<br />
happen in a Lagos hotel, but here there‘s<br />
also Sharia law, which can make men act in<br />
overzealous ways.<br />
―What if security stops us?‖ she asks.<br />
―Who, these ones?‖<br />
―It‘s me they are watching, not you.<br />
Weren‘t there riots here when the Miss<br />
World contest was supposed to be staged?<br />
The fatwa on the journalist and all that?‖<br />
―Haba, things are not that bad.‖<br />
―Who says?‖ she asks. ―Don‘t they<br />
sentence women to death for fornication in<br />
these parts?‖<br />
―No one would dare sentence a woman<br />
like you.‖<br />
―That‘s good. I don‘t want to be disgraced<br />
meanwhile.‖<br />
―My house is not too far.‖<br />
―I can‘t go to your house.‖<br />
―Why not?‖<br />
―I said I can‘t go to your house.‖<br />
―I asked why not?‖<br />
―How do I know you‘re not a killer?‖<br />
―Can‘t I kill you here?‖<br />
She laughs and slaps her thigh.<br />
―I will speak to the front desk,‖ he says.<br />
He finishes his brandy. She abandons her<br />
Cointreau and goes ahead of him, so as to<br />
be sure she won‘t be stopped.<br />
―A Safe Indiscretion‖ is an excerpt from the novel<br />
A Bit of Difference. This excerpt has been<br />
reproduced with the author's permission.<br />
Saraba | Issue 13 | Africa 33
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