The Waiting Game

chapter five

Neither of them tried to make small talk on the drive to the private mortuary that Jamal Popola’s body had been taken to. Amina already knew that Ire wasn’t one to partake in small talk and while she was playful and chatty to an extent, she didn’t make any attempt to talk to him. Amina didn’t know what she thought of him yet, as far as first impressions went, there wasn’t anything to dislike about him and he might be one of the most polite boys that Amina had ever met.

She’d probably be impressed by him too if Joshua didn’t want to make him her replacement. Instead of talking, she let Taylor Swift’s new album play on her car’s speaker.

The drive according to the GPS was less than an hour, but there was one thing that it didn’t account for and that was the Lagos traffic. They’d gotten into the heat of it almost twenty minutes ago and Amina was certain that the cause was something that would have been easily solved if the rickety yellow transport buses weren’t so impatient.

Despite the coolness of the air-conditioning in, Amina felt a bead of sweat drip down the back of her neck; she was feeling impatience welling up in her. She had an appointment with her spy in the mortuary for four pm. It was past four now, Amina didn’t like to be late. She knew that Jamal’s body wouldn’t stay long in the mortuary; the police had likely cleared his body of all the prints they needed and sent it to the mortuary. The body would probably be moved to where an autopsy would be performed.

The so called spy at the mortuary was a lowly cleaner; the woman didn’t know when the body would be taken. Amina had made her swear to find out but she wasn’t counting on any information any time soon, she couldn’t miss a chance to look at the body before it was moved.

A cool gust of air snapped Amina out of her thoughts and she turned her head to see Ire winding down the car window. There was a fleeting moment where childish guilt filled his eyes but it was gone a second later. He looked like he’d been trying to open the window sneakily. Had she been that deep in her thoughts?

“What are you doing?” She asked harshly. He had expressive eyes, Amina noted as she watched surprise cause his eyes to widen slightly.

He was taken aback by her whiplash tone; he’d never heard her sound anything but mildly amused and playful.

“I’m hungry,” He said, jerking his head in a nod to the hawkers that loitered the sidewalk, some of them running after cars in the line ahead to sell different snacks.

The mild amusement was back on Amina’s face. “And you couldn’t tell me.”

He shrugged, Amina noticed that he was back to looking carefully bored. “You were muttering to yourself, you looked as if you were deep in whatever you were thinking about.”

Amina waited.

“And you were scowling, I got the feeling you’d take off my head if I said your name.” He added.

Amina tapped her manicured fingernails on the wheel, she felt his gaze follow the motion and she flexed her nails like talons. “Go ahead, call one of the hawkers.”

Ire didn’t thank her; he just wound the rest of the car window down, stuck his head outside and whistled at the hawkers. Several came running.

“Gala!” He shouted and Amina snickered quietly, she didn’t understand why the old man hawking rat poison on a tray joined the race to Ire. Most people wanted to buy food in traffic; rat poison was far off the demands.

The line ahead began to move and Amina took off, cutting off a yellow bus that tried to cut into her lane.

“Oloriburuku!” The conductor hanging on to the door swore at her. She silently raised her middle finger up at him.