Clair slipped in through the kitchen door that she had deliberately left open when she brought her sleepy friend and colleague home from work earlier. It was 00:05 am, and she believed everyone in the building except her must be asleep, so she moved around the house like it was hers. Well it was, her husband’s money paid the rent and furnished the apartment, she could claim ownership. She went into the bedroom and an overwhelming feeling of disgust and anger griped her as she saw the figure lay in bed, but she felt better visualizing what she was about to do. She did not have to worry about sleeping beauty waking up anytime soon, the Valium she slipped in the ice cream she had bought her after work would keep her in bed for a bit longer than usual.
She opened the wardrobe out of curiosity. “No way you could afford these expensive clothes”, she thought envisaging that Jacob had paid for them.
“Ingrate!” she spat.
The help she had rendered her friend while in an abusive marriage came to her mind.
“I brought you out of your misery, got you a job and you pay me back by being my husband’s mistress”.
“You’ll get what’s coming to you”
She looked at the designer shoes on the rack, even she did not have anything as fancy. She thought about the plans she and Jacob had made to buy a house, and she was sure his sudden change of heart meant that he had chosen to spend on his mistress instead. It hurt her even more that he would rent an apartment for his mistress in the same estate they lived in, that was the height of disrespect she could take. She caught sight of a pair of scissors on the dainty vanity table and thought about cutting some of her clothes to shreds but there was not any need for that, she was there for something bigger. She immediately began locking all the windows in the apartment. Before the final act, she moved round the apartment once more as if to find something incriminating to justify what she was about to do.
She caught a glimpse of her own appearance in the large mirror in the hallway, she looked silly and fat in Jacob’s oversized black senator’s attire, black face cap and slippers. She was not fat; it was just the clothes she assured herself that she looked better than the skinny lady in the bedroom. Maybe she would throw the cloths away when she completed her mission or better; it might be exciting to see her husband in murder cloths; the thought was funny, and it made her laugh hard. She walked away from the mirror, towards the bookshelf, the decor looked like it was lifted off a magazine. She hissed; she had seen better. Just then she saw a file carelessly placed at the edge of the shelf, it contained sleepy head’s divorce papers and Jacob was the lawyer. She was infuriated the more to think that her husband was helping with his mistress’ divorce so that he could marry her. Her chest tightened, she thought she was going to have a heart attack but it was just the anger, and she let it take charge as she flung the file to the floor and walked aggressively to the kitchen. “Jacob, you go hear am“.
She threw the pot on the gas cooker angrily into the sink and turned the knobs of the cooker.
“Let’s see how you’ll marry my husband when you don’t wake up tomorrow” she hissed.
“I will protect my children, none of them will grow up in a broken family. God cannot be angry with me; I am doing this for my family.”
She had to leave immediately but as she moved towards the door, she saw a figure climb up the stairs. She hid behind the door. It was Andrew, Jacob’s very close friend and client, he lived in the neighborhood too.
“What’s he doing here“? She wondered.
He hummed a song as he fiddled with his pocket for the keys.
“I don’t know why I have the keys to the back door in a house I paid for” he grumbled almost silently and continued humming. Clair’s mouth fell open.
“Ehn!” she exclaimed.
As he brought out the keys from his pocket, he noticed the door was ajar.
“See this my madam o, tomorrow you’ll complain of malaria”. He started humming another song.
Could it be Andrew, Jacob’s very close friend Cynthia had been dating all along and Jacob was just helping with her divorce? It all now made sense to her, all three of them always hung out together. How did she mix everything up? She needed to turn off the gas and get out of the apartment as soon as possible but Andrew wouldn’t leave the kitchen, instead he dipped his hand in the pocket of his grey chinos trouser and stuck the stick of cigarette he brought out in between his lips, he dipped his hands in his pocket again and brought out a lighter. Before Clair could scream “No”, the house was on fire.
Written by Olatunde Olakunbi