Romola held the camera stand while the light from the bulb directly above her shone on the rings below. Two rings lay on a black  cardboard, one atop the other and the golden frame was inscribed with the names of the bride and groom.

The cold air from the big air conditioner behind her reached her skin but she was thankful for the peach turtle neck she wore.

“I’m done.” Benjamin said..

“Finally.”

She let the camera stand fall to the table and collapsed on the red soft sofa. It was the only other non-neutral coloured permanent fixture in the room. Everything else was white like Benjamin’s wristwatch.

He brought the camera photo viewer closer to his face and pressed some buttons before dropping the camera on the desk. “I don’t like these shoots. We might need to take a new set.”

“Can we take  a break fist?”

Romola threw her head back against the couch. Her limbs hurt from holding the camera stand up all day. And her feet were starting to feel bigger than her stomach. She had to tell Miss Oyama that they needed a longer camera stand.

“In a moment. We—”

A small twitchy sound, like a baby bird, cut him short as her phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out and stared at the screen.

A message from her mother.

She frowned.

This was the second time her mother was sending her a message in two weeks. From no contact at all to this.

“Please, excuse me.”

She got on her feet and walked to the toilet. She pushed open the wooden door and locked it behind her, leaning against the white tiles beside the sink.

She clicked on the message, crossing her fingers and hoping it was not something of dire emergency. The only person who could grant her time off was Miss Oyama and the woman was not on seat.

Please, help me send some money like 15k. We need to balance the house rent and baba Jide is not helping. He even took some of the money you gave me. Please send some to this acc. 009368733394 Freedom Life Bank, Micheal Ajayi So that he will not collect the money.

Romola frowned, stamping her feet “Ooohhh. Which one is all this one now? Every time send money, send money.”

She eyed the phone screen as she punched in her bank’s USSD code to check her account balance, sighing as she knew the salary she would receive today was about to be depleted before she even had the chance to save some of it.

She returned to the small cubicle where she worked with the head accountant and grabbed a pen, scribbling the account number on a notepad before she sent the money to her mother. Then she texted

DONE. Please don’t let him take this one. I’m tight on cash right now.

Her mother’s reply came in immediately. Her eyes almost popped. Had her mother been sitting by the phone with these words already typed in before she sent them?

Thank you my child. May you eat the fruit of your labour in Jesus name.

Romola held back a snort as she returned to Benjamin’s White Room. Now, her mother called on Jesus to bless the very work she said she hated and wanted to know nothing about. Romola shook her head. Were things that bad at home that her mother needed this much cash?

Two fingers snapped in front of her face and she jerked, coming back to terms with her surroundings. She had walked past the White Room.

Benjamin folded his thick muscular arms and stood against the door post staring at her with his beady probing dark eyes.

“What are you  thinking about? It’s just nine in the morning.”

“I told you.  I’m hungry. You don’t want to believe me.” She squeezed herself between his body and the doorway.

“Alright, when we are done, we’ll go and flex in this new restaurant down the street. They opened last week.”

“You mean Frijotos?”

“Yes. That’s the one.”

Romola laughed as she sat on the sofa. “Who will sponsor the flexing?”

“Everyone will pay for their own meal. We are now in an independent woman world.”

“I don’t have money for that kind of flexing oh. Don’t let my clothes deceive you. Baby girl is broke.”

“Fake brokeness.” Benjamin picked up his camera and struck a photographer’s pose, pointing the camera at the rings. “Didn’t you collect salary today?”

“I still have to settle my debts and I just sent some  money home. It’s still pinching my body small small.” She found a spot behind the table so she could watch him fully.

“You’re a good girl. Me, I flex first. They’re not making the money with me.” Benjamin took a step back, then pointed the camera at her face.

She stared at their feet— his encased in a suede shoe and hers in fancy slippers. He had this funny idea of taking a picture of her while she was unaware. So far, she had noticed on time.

“Hello? Is anyone here?” A woman’s polished voice floated into the room.

“Is Mrs. Christina there?” Ben asked.

“She went to get something. Let me handle this.”

Romola walked out of the room. Mrs. Christina’s main position was the reception table to guide new customers.

She walked to the front desk and took her place behind the glass counter, smiling at the fair skinned woman in front of her. “Welcome to Liliwan, home of the best custom jewellery. How can we serve you today?”

The woman dug inside her bag for something, her brown hair with gold highlights, covering much of her face. “I should have the paper here. I want to see samples of a particular style.”

“Do you know the name?”

“I’m just trying to find— Here it is.” The woman raised a paper and then stared at the Romola. Her face thinned as her jaws dropped and her eyes widened like the potholes on badly maintained road. “Romola?”

Romola frowned. Did this woman know about her pictures?

The woman leaned closer to the counter, peering at Romola, then shaking her head. “Ibikunle Moromola?”

“How do you know my name?”

“You are… here.”

“Who are you?” Romola took a step away from the counter and the woman’s wild look.

“Who am I? Don’t play games.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about. I don’t know who you are.”

“It’s me. Victoria. Remember me? Olumide brought you to the hospital. You were in coma—”

This woman knew Olumide. Why was she here? Had he sent her? “I don’ know what or who you talking about.”

“Is there a problem here?” Benjamin walked out of the hallway and joined both women at the table.

“I was with you when you left the hospital.” The woman spoke directly to Romola.

Benjamin stood in front of the woman. “Ma’am, what is going on?”

The woman pointed at Romola. “It’s her. She— I used to know her.”

Romola watched Benjamin turn to her.

She folded her arms as she shook her head. “I have never seen her in my life.”

“That’s not true.” The woman’s voice gained power.

“Go inside. I’ll deal with this.” Benjamin said.

Romola slunk into the hallway but she stayed close to the archway where she could observe without being observed.

She stared at the woman’s face. The woman’s small eyes remained on Benjamin’s animated face as she spoke. Her large breasts were firmly tucked in her turquoise off shoulder jean dress. Her fair legs, planted in white sneakers. Where would she have seen this woman?

She shut her head and tried to remember. A slight pounding in her head reminded her of the block that appeared when she reached that black space. That blank space in her mind that contained the events from when she started eating Yetunde’s suya to the point where her mother arrived at the house warming party. Everything just before and after those memories was fuzzy. Everything in between was lost.

“Listen, I came here to check the samples for a ring and I’ll be back to do so, but please can I see her?”

“I’m afraid not. She seemed really upset. Who are you to her”

Romola thanked God for Benjamin’s answer. She shut her eyes and leaned against the wall. Yes, who was this strange woman?

“I’m a doctor. More like a family friend.”

A doctor? A family friend?

Romola shook hr head. The only doctor she knew in her family was the pharmacist down the road.

She shut her eyes and tried again. An image flashed in her head. One where she sat on a bed in a hospital room while the woman sat in a chair, talking to her, and swinging a stethoscope left and right. She shook her head. No, she was probably imagining it based on what the woman had said.

“But she doesn’t seem to know you.”

“It’s a long story. Can you do something for me?” There was some silence before the doctor spoke again. “Can you give her this card and tell her to call me when she is free?”

“Well, it depends on her.”

“Just give her the card please. It is really important. Thank you.”

Romola hurried back to the White Room and set her butt on the sofa waiting for Benjamin to arrive. By the time he came into the room, the worms in her stomach were feasting on her intestine.

She got on her feet and stared at him. “Is she gone?”

“For now. She booked an appointment for Thursday, three o’clock.” Benjamin held out  a business card. “She wanted you to have this.”

“I don’t want to talk to her.”

“She seemed really interested in you and I think—” Benjamin held the card to his face, his eyes tracing the words on the card. “I think she is a senator’s daughter.”

“Get real, Ben.”

“I’m serious. I’ll confirm later but I think you should keep the card. You never know when you might need the connection.”

“Sure.”

Romola collected the card and slipped it into her pocket. She didn’t know the woman and she wouldn’t call.