“Maybe he will have her arrested.”
“And how much are we talking about?”
“Several thousand dollars.”
Gunilla takes down the details of Valerie’s Kenyan attorneys, aware that she needs these men to wrap up the case and leave no loose threads hanging. Then Godwin Wamiru takes his leave.
Not wanting to part yet, Bella and Gunilla extend their time together and go back to the Italian deli for the lunch that Godwin Wamiru interrupted, feeling more relaxed than before. And while neither is ready to celebrate victory yet, they admit to each other that Valerie is in a very weakened position, especially given her failure to pay her newly accrued legal fees.
All eyes follow their entry into the open-air restaurant, where they are led to a corner table. After they’ve ordered their meal, Gunilla remarks that something seems to be troubling Bella. “What is it, dear? A kroner for your thoughts.”
“I can’t bear the thought of having Valerie arrested for nonpayment of the attorney’s legal fees. And yet I would have difficulty justifying my own action if I paid for it.”
A sort of nervous energy descends on the two women as they assess the situation in their heads. The waitress brings sparkling water in bottles and some bread in a basket. Bella mixes balsamic vinegar with olive oil and then dips the bread in it and, as she chews in silence, wonders if Gunilla can bear to get involved in Aar’s affairs again on her behalf.
“I am afraid that, having lost her shirt now and her marbles many years before, Valerie may do something desperate,” Bella says. “She is mad, bad, and positively dangerous; and I am worried that we are back where we started: Valerie under threat of being locked up and needing to be bailed out.”
“What are you thinking?”
“I am thinking of discreetly settling this bill too.”
“I see where you are coming from, and I believe I can work out something with the two attorneys she owes legal fees to.”
“How?”
“They can forward their bills to me and we will tell them that we will settle their fees from Aar’s estate to save his good name,” says Gunilla.
“How wise you are, Gunilla.”
They are silent for a minute or so. When their meals come, they eat, neither speaking because Gunilla knows a couple of people sitting at the next table and she doesn’t want them to hear her confidential conversation with Bella.
Gunilla says, “I’d like to see the children.”
“Let me see what I can organize.”
Gunilla reaches for the bill. Bella says “the children” as if it is synonymous with “my worry,” the same way she says Valerie’s name as if it is a euphemism for “trouble.” They walk back together, Gunilla to her office and Bella to pick up her car from the parking lot.
—
All is well when Bella gets back home, lugging takeaway for an army. Valerie, Salif, Padmini, and Dahaba are in the living room playing Scrabble. Salif is the quickest at word games, and to give himself further advantage, he has imposed a time limit on each player’s turn, regulated with the kind of timer professional chess players use. He has put himself in charge of the clock, on occasion declaring that a player has lost a turn because he or she is late in making a move.
Bella heads straight for the kitchen, avoiding Valerie’s icy stare. As she unloads the food — curries, sushi, Thai veggies — onto the kitchen table, Bella hears Dahaba challenging a call, bawling, “I was just about to make my move!” Then Valerie shrieks, “No more time wasting, please!” And Salif calls out, “Cheaters!”
Bella goes up to her room, carrying her briefcase, determined to enjoy what peace she can find there. She changes into a housedress and finds a pair of flip-flops for her feet, remembering vaguely that Mahdi has offered to take the children to see a movie tonight. Truth be told, she is longing for some time to herself, but it is Valerie she no longer wants to spend a moment with, unlikely as that possibility seems. Indeed, even from up here, she can hear Valerie berating Salif. What has the poor fellow done now? she wonders.
She catches up on her e-mails, many of which contain belated condolence messages, including a few from Aar’s colleagues. When she sees a long one from Ngulu, she deletes it right away. Then she boots up Aar’s computer and opens his e-mail.
She skips the newer messages in his in-box for the time being, most of which appear to be junk mail, and starts with the messages from before he died. Nearly a third of the messages in his in-box are from Gunilla. Many of them are of an intimate nature, but a great number of them have to do with the management of his Nairobi account and other work-related ones. Bella checks his sent mail and finds many e-mails to Salif and Dahaba, about two a day to each of them, and others to Fatima about her cancer. In one Aar even offers to help financially if there is need.
After shutting down Aar’s computer, Bella calls to invite Gunilla to dinner the next night, making their vague plan for a get-together definite. Then she thinks, why not make it a party? and she rings Catherine Kariuki. After updating her on how Salif and Dahaba are faring, she says, “If you are free tomorrow evening round about eight, we would like you and your husband to join us for supper. Please accept my apology for such short notice. We’ve been meaning to have you over, but the children’s mother is here, and it has not been easy for me to get the household in order.”
Catherine says, “Hold on, dear,” and then comes back in a moment to say, “My husband says he would love to come, but it will depend on whether his chauffeur is available as we don’t normally drive ourselves home at night.”
“I hope you can come,” says Bella. “That way we will be able to thank you properly for hosting Salif and Dahaba. And you will meet two or three of Aar’s friends along with Valerie, the children’s mother.”
Catherine says, “In the meanwhile, kindly send us directions to your house. And I’ll ring you tonight or first thing tomorrow to let you know whether we are coming.”
—
Downstairs, the game is over. “Who won?” asks Bella.
Salif says, “I did. And Padmini came in second.”
“Because you and Pad cheat, that’s why,” says Valerie. But she doesn’t sound very miffed, and the current state of her feelings is a mystery to Bella.
It’s Dahaba who begins to unpack the cartons of food and to ask who wants to eat what. Then Valerie takes charge, yammering away, ordering people about: Salif is to bring the cutlery; Padmini the napkins and plates; and Bella the drinks. Bella does as instructed and makes herself useful by serving everyone’s drink of choice, although she begs off lunch on the grounds that she has already eaten.
“And where did you have lunch?” asks Valerie.
Bella thinks hard before answering the question, which, innocuous as it is, reminds Bella of how peaceful demonstrations turn to violent riots. Answering “Where” may invite “With whom?” she fears.
“Where?” Valerie insists.
“Just some little deli, you won’t know it.”
Bella observes that Dahaba is liberally dropping food on her place mat and wiping it up halfheartedly with her curry-stained fingers, which she then licks. “Dahaba!” she admonishes.
“Sorry,” says Dahaba.
Valerie inquires, “Why are you sorry?”
Salif explains why, but Valerie answers, “Big deal. Just wash the place mat, it is made from cheap cloth anyway.”
Now that the animation of the game is over, Valerie looks to Bella as if she hasn’t had much rest; in fact, she looks like a street cat caught in the rain. Padmini seems subdued as well. Bella wonders if Valerie has informed Padmini that she has withdrawn her case and is no longer contesting the will or filing for child custody. Will their relationship come to grief when Padmini learns this, she wonders, or will Padmini see it as tit for tat for Padmini’s ruinous attempt to recover her family’s property in Uganda? And has Valerie told Padmini about her anger over Bella’s rescuing them? Bella stands on the periphery of the circle and listens.