Paris, 1952
‘I am so glad that you could come today, Mon Amie…’ Henriette smiled at me as she sipped her wine. She had invited me to stay for a week at her flat. ‘I’ve wanted you to meet Marie for ages…’
I sat trying not to stare at Henriette’s beautiful friend. Marie had wavy auburn hair and the most luminous green eyes I’d ever seen. She smiled at me, watching intently as Henriette talked to me.
‘I’m so happy to know that you’ll be living here now… We can see each other all the time!’ She grinned.
I smiled weakly, raising my wineglass to my lips, while trying not to blush as Marie’s gaze fell upon me.
‘And… I have good news for you, Olivia!’ she paused for a moment. ‘I know that you won’t be happy at first… but, I must tell you that I did this for your own good… you looked so sad the last time that I saw you. I knew something was terribly wrong, because you should have been the happiest girl in the world. So, I know you will be upset, at least at first, but I know that eventually you’ll see that this is a good thing…’
‘What?’ I shook my head, finding it difficult to concentrate, because Marie’s stare was so intense. I could feel her eyes burning into me, and I felt self-conscious, wondering if she thought that I was freakish.
‘Olivia! Where is your head these days? This is the third time I’ve had to repeat myself…’ Henriette chided me playfully, finally noticing Marie’s admiring gaze. ‘Oh, don’t mind Marie… she’s just a little star-struck… she’s never met a celebrity before…’
I blushed in spite of myself. ‘I’m sorry, Henriette. Go on.’
‘Well, I took a chance… and I hired a detective, months ago… and I…’
‘Henriette!’ I immediately frowned, knowing what she was about to say next.
‘He has found out a great deal, about your beloved Olusegun…’
‘I told you that I didn’t want…’
‘Olivia, I cannot believe that you can be so stubborn. I know that Olusegun holds a special place in your heart, and I felt that you would want to know about what happened to him.’
‘Olu does not hold any place in my heart,’ I stood up, incensed. ‘And I would appreciate it if you would stop trying to find him…’
‘Olivia, please, sit down,’ Henriette sighed.
‘Excuse me…’ I left the room, closing myself in the guestroom.
I’d given up on trying to find Olu while I was still in London. The investigator that I’d hired hadn’t been able to find any more information about Olu’s whereabouts, and it was too distracting for me to keep searching myself. I decided, after a long, painful consideration, to give it up altogether. I knew that in time, I would forget about Olu, just as he had probably forgotten about me. I threw my energies into preparations for my relocation to Paris, and with all of the extra practicing, setting up the tour, and everything else, all thoughts of Olu had faded from my mind.
But after Henriette’s revelation, all of my memories came flooding back in, and I had to fight with all of my will to keep from crying. I did miss him, still, and surprisingly, my memories of Raymond always seemed to be overshadowed by my thoughts of Olu.
‘Olivia,’ Henriette knocked on the door, opening it at the same time. ‘I want to apologize… I shouldn’t have taken it upon myself to do this… I was only hoping that it would make you happy.’
I sighed, turning to face her. ‘I know, and I appreciate the gesture, Henriette, but it’s all over now. If Olu wanted to find me, it would be very simple for him. I know that he’s moved on with his life now, and it’s silly for me to hold on to some childish hope that I’ll find him again.’
‘Don’t you at least want to know why he left?’ she asked.
‘Of course I do. I just don’t think that it will really help me, that’s all. What would I do after that? There is no way that we could be together; besides, Olu has probably started a family by now…’
‘Do you really believe that?’ Henriette looked skeptical. ‘Can you really picture Olusegun with a house full of children?’
‘No.’ I looked at her, realizing that I could only picture him in my arms, lying next to me as the intense African sun baked my room in the middle of the day.
‘Since it’s all out in the open, now, I’ll have to show you what I found…’ she handed me a large envelope.
I pulled out the contents, and spread them across the bed. There were typed reports and a few photographs, but nothing more.
‘These are about a year old,’ Henriette explained. ‘The detective has not had much luck since this last one, here.’
I took a few minutes to read each report, growing more frustrated after each one.
‘What is this?’ I pushed the pile of papers away from me in anger. ‘This is nothing new… I already know these things…’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I hired a detective myself, to look for Olu. I already know that he was in London… I even have some of his belongings that he left in a hostel he had been lodging in.’
‘I’m deeply sorry, Mon Amie, for dredging up a painful past…’
‘I need to be alone right now… please, take these things away…’
‘Yes, of course.’
Henriette quietly gathered the papers and left the room. I buried my face in the pillows for a time, trying in vain to forget that any of it had ever happened. As I moved to turn over, I felt a sharp edge poking into my skin. I reached down to pick up a photograph that Henriette had forgotten, a small picture of a group of men, working on a dock. I wondered why this photo would be added to the collection, until I took a closer look and recognized Olu standing off to the side. He was carrying a book under his arm and his hat in his hand. I held my breath as I ran my fingers of the shape of his image in the photo. He was taller than most of the other men in the picture, and of course, much darker. My eyes were drawn to this difference, noticing the vacant look in Olu’s eyes, the square shape of his jaw line, and the muscular build of his body.
I sighed, staring at the photograph for so long, that it was the last thing that I remembered before drifting off to sleep.
I must have dreamt of Olu. My thoughts, while lying half way between consciousness and sleep, where all of him. I remembered his smile, his voice, and his ridged torso, dark like an engraved statue. I remembered how just the sound of his voice would make me wet, hearing his stilted English, always overly formal, and his lilting French, dreamy and romantic.
My mind drifted, as it did on many occasions, to our last day together. Olu had surprised me in my room, with a banana and a hard cock.
‘Morning, Olu…’ I smiled at him. ‘What are you doing in here? Where’s Dad?’
‘He took William with him to get more supplies…’
‘Oh…’ I grinned, knowing that a supply trip, with my father, usually took the better part of a day. I looked at the banana, noticing a loud gurgling in my stomach. ‘Thank you,’ I took it from him. ‘How’d you know that I was starving?’
‘Which would you like to devour first?’ he joked, stroking his fat cock through his trousers.