Facade (Romola 1)

85: Elevator Girl

Her hands shook so badly that she nearly dropped the pill. She tightened her fist and tried to swallow air. As she raised her head, she caught two innocent eyes staring at her. The girl from the elevator.

The pill dropped from Romola's hand. Her lips trembled as she caught the girl's eyes on the drug. Had the girl followed her? Why? The pill landed at her feet and she sucked in a breath as it hit her. A junkie prostitute. If anything, she had almost proved Olumide right. Drugs had handed her to hades and here she was, inviting it back into her life. For what?

"You dropped this." The girl handed her the bracelet-wristwatch.

"Oh." Romola rested her hand on her hurting hips.

The girl shared some similarities with her younger self but instead of rough natural hair, the girl had well braided hair packed in pigtails and the girl wore a beautiful yellow dress. Yellow. Romola almost smiled. She loved that colour. Just like her mother.

She whispered, for fear that the men would hear her. "Thank you."

"Are you sick?" The girl asked.

"What?"

"You are taking drugs. Are you sick? And you were crying. You can try taking it with water."

Romola stared at the pill and twisted her feet over it until she was sure it was ground to dust. Bukky would have her head for this but she decided to damn the consequences. "Not any more. Why are you here?"

"I'm lost' The girl frowned, tears peeking out from her eyelids. "I can't find the floor where my mum is. I keep pushing the buttons but all the hallways look the same."

"What's the number, sweetie?"

"We were downstairs and I wanted to see how far the elevator could go. Then I got back and I couldn't find her."

Romola's hand reached out before she could stop herself. As the girl's hand fit into hers, Romola stared at her own hand. It was steady and stable.

"Let's find her."

She threw one last look at room 406. Yes, she wanted an education. Yes, she wanted to make her mother happy but not this way. She would not become the very thing she had fought against. Nor would she keep up the façades that she had kept so far. She was none of those things.

Not a junkie.

Not a prostitute.

No longer a dancer.

No longer a star student.

No longer her mother's beloved child.

This last point hurt but she knew that the child her mother had loved was a mask.

No more façades. Just plain old Romola.

It was over. She had played too much on their terms. On Yetunde's terms, On Olumide's terms. She spent too long blaming them for her downfall but none of them had walked her to this room. None of them had encouraged her to put the pill into her mouth. None of them had forced her to live a false life so, if her life had unravelled, she had had the lion's share in the fault.

They got to the elevator and she pressed the button. The girl stepped in first. She followed. The old versions of Romola were dead. Now she had to take her life into her hands. A full life that would not separate all the things about her and break them into lies. If anyone could not accept her fully for who she was, then that person did not need to be in her life.

They exited the elevator on the ground floor. She held the girl's hand until they arrived the receptionist table. An older woman leaned across the table while the receptionist spoke on the phone.

"Mummy." The girl screamed and ran to her mother.

The woman hugged her. "Kiki, where were you? I was so worried."

"I went to the elevator."

Kiki's mother tapped her cheeks twice, then she hugged her again. "Don't you ever do that again."

Romola smiled at the exchange as the mother cautioned and hugged her daughter again. It was like that sometimes. A bit of hard love with some gentle petting. Maybe there was still hope for her to be united with her mother.

"Take this." The receptionist handed her a tissue.

"What for?"

"You're crying." The woman smiled. "Thank God you didn't go through with it. Those men disgust me."

Romola dabbed at her tears. "You know them?"

"Who doesn't. They are old enough to be people's grandparents. Maybe even mine."

Romola laughed.

"Hey." Kiki dragged her. "My mummy wants to see you."

"Oh no." Romola shook her head. She didn't want to see anyone else whose eyes would accuse her of what she had almost done.

"Come on." Kiki dragged Romola to her mother.

Romola hung her head, refusing to meet the mother's eyes and waiting for judgement. Instead, she felt the woman's warm body against her in a hug. "Thank you. She said you found her."

"She found me."

The woman hugged her tighter. "I don't know what I would do without my Kiki."

She met the woman's eyes as they separated. There was no accusation there. Only joy that magnified as the woman took her daughter's hand. Romola's ache for her mother grew. She would have to find another way to earn her mother's forgiveness.

Kiki and her mother left for the car park. Romola returned to the receptionist. "How do you know these men?"

"They are always bringing new girls to the hotel every weekend. If you don't mind me asking, what's your story?"

Romola sighed. "You wouldn't believe me it."

"Try me. I'm Esther. What's your name?"

"I hope I won't distract you from work or anything?"

"I'm here all night." Esther's face softened. "Unless you have somewhere to go?"

"Right now, I'm not even sure of where I'll sleep."

"Then you've come to the right place." Esther leaned forward. "Tell me how you ended up with them and don't leave anything out."

"I wouldn't dream of it." She began. "My name is Romola. My mother hawks bread and I used to be a dance teacher."

THE END