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Cristal, Steph and the boys arrive in the staffroom, all wrapped up against the cold weather outside.
‘Have you heard this?’ Nina says to them as they’re still stripping off their outer layers. There’s a distinct snort in her voice that I take exception to. ‘Janie wants her Maasai bloke to come and live here.’
They all look very sceptical.
‘Can’t you find a nice English fella?’ Cristal asks.
‘Can you?’ I retort.
Cristal shrugs her defeat. ‘Fair point.’
Steph says, ‘Sounds like a bag full of trouble to me.’
Kelly puts her head around the door. ‘First customer’s here, Janie. Mrs Silverton.’
‘Thanks.’
‘She’s only gone and asked this bloody Maasai warrior to live with her,’ Nina informs our boss with a flick of her thumb that I read as disdainful.
‘Really?’
I nod my confirmation, fuming silently at the way my friend is bandying my news about.
‘Oh, Janie,’ Kelly intones. ‘Do be careful. Are you sure it’s the right thing to do?’
‘I think so.’
Kelly and Nina exchange a doubtful look. Do I tell them how to live their lives? Do I? Do I ever tell Kelly that she and her ageing, petty criminal boyfriend are terminally unsuited? Do I ever mention to Nina that her lecherous husband takes every opportunity to feel up any woman who gives him half a chance? Do I ever tell Cristal that she should stop indiscriminately shagging around every weekend with any knobhead who asks her? Do I tell Steph that there’s no such thing as a stress-free ‘fuck buddy’ and that someone will get hurt in the end and it’s more likely to be her than the bloke involved? Do I tell Tyrone and Clinton that they should stop playing around and just settle down together?
No, I don’t.
Why, then, do they all feel free to comment on my love life, my choice of man? Is that what love, what chemistry is all about? It doesn’t matter how little you have in common or how little suited you are, when that stupid cupid strikes there’s no ignoring those arrows that get under your skin.
They don’t see that this is not poor old Janie Johnson being gullible or taken advantage of. It’s me asking Dominic to make a huge sacrifice and leave the land that he loves, where he is most at home, and to trust me enough to come and live my life here with me.
I stand up. ‘I’d better not keep Mrs Silverton waiting.’ I march out into the salon, quietly grinding my teeth as I go.
Mrs Silverton is already gowned up and waiting. Just a wash and blow-dry today. Another posh do must be in the offing.
‘Janie, love,’ she says when she sees me. ‘How’s the big romance?’
‘It’s fine,’ I say.
‘I think you should keep him at arm’s length,’ she warns. ‘My friend brought a bloke over from Egypt last year. Nightmare.’ My client shakes her head. ‘Worst thing she ever did. He asked her to marry him, quite forgetting he already had a wife back home.’
‘It doesn’t always have to be like that,’ I start to say and then I give up. I just give up. Wait until Dominic’s here, I think. Wait until he’s here and they can all see what he’s like. Then they’ll understand.
Chapter Fifty-One
Dominic has said yes. His message came just two days – and no fingernails – later. I stare at the screen in front of me. He’s coming. My Maasai warrior is coming. He’s packing all his worldly goods, placing his utmost trust in me and is travelling halfway around the world to live in Nashley.
Archie is on my lap. ‘We’re going to have someone else live with us,’ I tell my cat.
His miaow tells me that he is distinctly unimpressed. Even if one of the neighbourhood dogs accidentally strays onto his territory, Archie is all for kicking its head in. He only tolerates Mike because he’s good at opening cans. How will he feel when there’s another man in my bed?
‘You’ll love him,’ I reassure Archie while crossing my fingers. ‘I do.’
Dominic’s note tells me that he has to apply for a visa to be able to visit. It will involve an arduous three-day journey to Nairobi and back on a dozen different public buses as he has to appear at the embassy in person. I hope there are no hitches there. I check how much the air fare might be and gulp. I’ll have to work some more overtime, sell some more stuff – possibly my body – in order to get the money together to send to Dominic. There are plenty of excess ornaments in Little Cottage that I could get rid of at a car boot sale, surely?
Downstairs, in an envelope, I have a thousand pounds in cash to give to Mike. I’m going to pop round there later to watch a film with him and I hope that I can surprise him by returning his money so soon. What might be more of a surprise for him though is when I tell him that he will soon have a new neighbour in Nashley.
