Ada's Room by Sharon Dodua Otoo

Author:Sharon Dodua Otoo [Otoo, Sharon Dodua]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-03-28T00:00:00+00:00

7:45 a.m.

It was Elle. She bent down so close to me that I could feel her breath against my face. So close that her hair tickled my nose. In the first moments of waking, where everything still blurred together and smelled like a sweet dream—in those first confused moments—I thought that she was Cash. But maybe even that isn’t true. Maybe I already knew that it was her; maybe I only wished that it was Cash. I turned my head away.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

I don’t know why she always says things like that. We both know it isn’t true. Her eyes bored deeper on their winding quest into my innermost thoughts. If they arrived at my secret desire for a latte, I knew I’d never hear the end of it.

“Hmm?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I know.” She giggled. “Chamomile tea. Would you like one? It’s organic!”

She held a steaming mug in front of my face. Her mug. Her tea. I shook my head and felt a weight—like a knot in my chest—as I began to stretch.

“No, thank you,” I heard myself saying. My voice was huskier than usual.

“Are you okay?”

I cleared my throat and nodded. “I think Socks is going to be a boxer.”

“No, I mean—oh shit, you don’t even know, do you?”

I narrowed my eyes. In the short moment it took for Elle to extend her phone to me, all kinds of possibilities for what she could have meant flashed through my mind.

“Did someone die?” I asked.

As she shook her head, a strand of hair fell over her face.

Boris fucking Johnson had won the election.

“Unbelievable, isn’t it?”

I didn’t even know what I should say. It wasn’t unbelievable. It was catastrophic. Brexit. I saw myself boarding an airplane back to Ghana with my now-useless passport.

“I always knew he was gonna win,” Elle exclaimed. “I always said so.”

I didn’t have any better reaction than to just hand back her phone. Why had I believed it would turn out differently? After all, it was Friday the 13th.

“I need to use the toilet,” I said.

“Is it quite urgent? I wanted to tell you something else.”

I held my breath. Not before my coffee, I thought. Please.

“What is it?”

“Well, I hope you won’t be angry, but . . .”

I noticed how short her fingernails still were. Maybe she should take up smoking again.

“I wrote to Cash.”

I didn’t say a word. My hands were itching. I needed to knit. I should have stood and made for the door to the balcony.

“Ada?”

“What?”

“I don’t wanna go getting mixed up in your relationship, but—”

“Hmm!”

“I mean, look, you need the money.”

“Not from him.”

“I understand. I mean, I wouldn’t want anything from him either, but—”

“Papa will send me money for the deposit.”

I couldn’t see the look on her face because I was looking toward the balcony. I pressed my lips together tightly and folded my arms.

“Yeah, okay,” she said.

Even though nothing was okay. Neither of us knew how things were going to end up for me. I was angry that she’d forced me to lie to her.

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