You are welcome to Escapades! Your Best Platform for Spell Binding True Life Short Stories. For Advert Placement, Product Promotions, Book Editing on this blog, please call: 08054701481 or send an email to: psaduwa007@gmail.com & journalistjoke@gmail.com!

Thursday, February 18, 2016

My husband and his London mistress (1)


I arrived the Murtala Mohammed International airport in Lagos about three hours before my flight to London so I could do my boarding and check in on time.

Later, as I sat waiting for my flight to be called, I became more excited with each passing minute.

This was it.

 Finally I would be reunited with my husband Henry after four years apart. It had been four long years of loneliness and sometimes despair and uncertainty, whether we will ever be together. He had left for the United Kingdom shortly after our wedding and we had been apart since then.

Though we had kept in touch throughout the period by phone, emails and other means, it was not the same thing. I missed him terribly.

Besides all that, there had been all sorts of talk from my family, friends and even colleagues on my long wait for Henry.

 "Abby, it's not very wise to wait for all these guys who travel abroad. Are you sure he hasn't married someone else, like an oyibo (white) lady?"

"What if after waiting all these years and at the end of the day, he doesn't return for you? What will you do then? Time is going and you are not getting any younger! Do you want to end up an old maid and childless?"

"I will advise you to forget about him and marry one of these guys who have been proposing to you. What's so special about this Henry that you can't forget him. Girl, wise up..." were some of the comments they made. 

All these remarks and pressures put a great strain on me and it was tough coping during the time of waiting for Henry. If it had not been for friends like Tari and a few others who kept encouraging me to persevere, I doubt if I would have been able to endure for so long. 

Now, finally the long wait was over. In some hours time, Henry and I would be together, never to be separated.
Just then, our flight was called and taking my hand luggage, I joined the line queuing up to board the plane to London.

  ***
We arrived Heathrow airport on a bitterly cold, winter evening. Henry met me at the airport and took me to his house which was quite far away. I was so happy to see him that I could barely sit still in the car which was heated because of the cold.

It seemed the cold had also driven most people off the streets which looked deserted as we drove along.
"Where's everybody?" I enquired as we went along the streets. The few pedestrians I saw were all bundled up in thick jackets and walked very fast as if in great haste to get home.

"Mostly indoors, I guess. It's too cold to be hanging around on the streets," he explained.
 We got to his home some time later and he showed me round the place. It was a two bedroom apartment with two bedrooms upstairs and a small sitting room below and a kitchen.

"Welcome home, darling," Henry said as he put my bags in what turned out to be the spare room.
Later, after we had eaten the meal he had prepared, we sat talking till very late at night. I gave him news about home, especially concerning his family.

"Your dad and nearly the whole family, including my parents and some of my friends, were at the airport. It was like the whole town came to see me off," I stated, smiling slightly at the memory.

 We were sitting on the couch and though the heater was on, I was wrapped up in a jacket, with stockings and slippers on my feet as I was feeling so cold.

"It's so cold! How do you cope in such weather?" I asked.

 He laughed.
"I'm used to it now. I felt the same way the first time I arrived here. I missed home so much especially our weather. You don't value what you have until you lose it," he stated.

 "So, it's only the weather you missed?" I asked him, petulantly.
 "Of course not, Abby dear! I missed you too! Very much," he said as he drew me to him and hugged me tight.

 "I've been dreaming about this day for years. It still feels like a dream, that any moment, I will wake up and I will be back home in Nigeria," I said, my head on his shoulder, inhaling his nice masculine scent.

 "It's no dream sweetheart. You are here with me now. To stay," he noted, as he kissed me.
 Then he got up and taking my hand, led me upstairs to bed...

  
 To be continued...

 
You can also follow us on Facebook


Remember to leave a comment - Or Send comments/suggestions to 08054701481 (SMS only)
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...