A Night to Remember

Finally got John Legend out of my head. Feeling all Duffy.

Guess I begin at the beginning?

Hectic day. Had a work meeting at 10am. Took a ten minute moto ride up the road which turned into an entire hour. Got a moto who didn't know where it was, who then stopped to ask directions from another moto driver who didn't know where it was either. Ended up driving around the whole of Kigali. 

Good meeting though. 

Then went to my tailor to pick up some much needed clothes.

Had a bit of time to kill in between, so decided I'd better go in search of condoms - as you do.

You'd think that'd be simple, right? Hell no.

My friend went to buy some the other day. Got to the counter of the supermarket where they're stacked next to the till. Thought she'd be all adult and mature about it. Reached for them, expecting to pick up a discrete box, only to find the box went on and on... like, supersized pack. She ran out of nerve halfway through and legged it.

I laughed so hard when I heard that story.

Then I stopped laughing, because it was my turn.

I decided to try Simba. Walked in. Headed for the cosmetics aisle where I thought they might be. Five seconds in and this attendant comes right up next to me, just staring at me, waiting for me to explain what I needed.

I decided to stop at shampoo and legged it.

Standing on the street outside, I suddenly see my friend F walking up the road towards me.

I confessed all.

When I said 'protection,' he thought I meant the pill, which you can buy over the counter here.

Again - hell no. You know that costs £67 a quarter? We have no idea how good we get it on the NHS.

Anyway, after grinning at me for a while, he marches me straight to the nearest pharmacy and orders them for me. When the lady puts down a pack of 12 he proceeds by asking: 'Are those the very best you've got?'

'They're Durex,' I murmur. 'They'll be fine.'

I stare at the counter and hand over the money.

So, thank you F for being my safety officer. There aren't many blokes who'd do that for a gal.

I miss the old joke:

There are 101 problems go with being a lesbian. Getting pregnant ain't one of 'em.

Anyway, we went for lunch and I silently commended myself for being such a grown up.

Then I hopped on a moto home and texted (I'm very good at texting on a moto now) D to ask him if he was free tonight. He was. I asked where we should meet. He suggested this hotel bar I'd never been to. I said OK. He said he had a meeting until 9pm and would text when he was on his way. I said OK again.

Then I went home and tried to numb my nerves with inane chatter on Facebook and playing a game of hide the Easter (scratch: oestrogen) egg. Burying condoms around the house anywhere they might possibly be needed: behind beds, back of the sofas, office draws. You never know. It's good to be prepared.

8:44 he texts to say he's on his way.

This is unheard of. Meeting at nine, I was expecting at least ten. Then I considered 'on my way' might mean in the literal African sense of 'in about an hour' and decided to faff about a bit so I didn't get there early. Spent about half an hour on my eyeshadow. Even popped into Kisimenti to buy a few things. 

I finally get to this place - it's beautiful. Truly beautiful. The lamps on the wall are made from African masks, the lighting is mellow and the decor is tasteful. As I walk in he's sitting right ahead of me. I can hardly breathe. He looks incredible. Smart shirt, dreadlocks, jewelry like a bohemian pirate. 

We spend the first hour nervously drifting from one topic to another. 

It's been five years.

So very much has happened, but I didn't really feel like talking about myself for once in my life, and he didn't make me. 

I eventually ask the obvious question: 'Did you get married, have kids?'

No.

He was in a long-term relationship which ended a year ago.

'You're not wearing a ring,' he observes. 'Or did you take it off?'

So, we both know where we stand.

When the beer runs out he suggests going somewhere to find food.

'Or you could come back to mine and I could cook something,' I suggest.

Honestly, no ulterior motive. I just have a wonderful porch where we can sit, smoke, drink beer and keep talking. We used to spend hours on the porch talking.

So, that's what we do. I cook omelet and we sit on the porch.

It was kind of funny, we were both busting for the loo when we got in, and I have two bathrooms. We used to live together so had no qualms about dashing off to respectively relieve ourselves. All of the first date nerves, but none of the new relationship inhibitions. 

Sitting out on the porch we talk around things for a long time. I explained that the night he bumped into me my friend didn't know whether to rescue me or leave us alone - she said we were 'intense'. 

'Comes with history,' he smiled.

'When you walked away I could hardly stand,' I admitted. 'My head was spinning.'

'I went to Papyrus and ordered a bottle of waragi,' he told me. 'My friends were there but I couldn't believe I'd just seen you, so I left.'

We talk until two in the morning.

'Can I see you again?' he asks. 'There's some place I was supposed to go this week, but I want to stay and spend time getting to know you again.'

We agree Friday.

I walk with him up the deserted street to find a moto. He holds me so close and it's like fire. He smells so good. The best of everything we were comes flooding back. I feel safety, honesty and desire.

I apologised several times for what I'd done before, for being unkind. 

'Look at me,' he replied. 'Do you see hate? There's no bad blood between us. You took me in when I had nothing. You taught me so much.'

I feel like crying.

We end the night with a hug and an awkward peck on the cheek.

'Friday,' we agree.

We're taking it slow. He's out of a tough relationship. I've no idea what I'm doing. But I like it. 

He's changed so much. He's so much more confident, so talkative, so grounded.

I got home to my empty house, sat on the porch and half imagined I'd dreamed everything.

If he hadn't stopped me in the street the other night, he would never have been there. It was so easy to believe he hadn't been.

I'm so glad that he was.

I'm so glad we didn't fall into bed or even kiss. It feels important somehow. The intensity between us is maddening. I don't think I've ever retained that with someone I've slept with before. We know each other but we don't know each other - we're still so much the same, yet different. I'm looking forward to getting to know him again, to starting afresh. To seeing where this goes, if anywhere.

Roll on Friday.