Maame(47)

But something tells me to go home, that I should choose my dad over Jo and that I’m not a very good daughter if I automatically don’t. I suddenly think of myself back at university, walking past groups of friends to sit on my own, closest to the door.

It’s just a cake, Maddie. Worse comes to worst, I’ll buy one. What matters most is actually being home on Dad’s birthday, right? And I will be.

“Fine!” I say and all the girls cheer. “Where to next?”



* * *



We (Cariad in tow) walk less than half a mile to a club located in the basement of a bakery; the steps lead to a smoke-filled cave emitting an unmistakable chocolate smell. It’s dark but I can see people sat at tables, a dulcet buzz in the air as they drink and smoke shisha.

When sat in a booth, Jo comes up behind us and says, “Brownies, anyone?”

I look down at the plate she’s offering. “Are you a witch?” I ask, grabbing two before they all go. “Where did you get brownies from?”

“The bakery upstairs.” She winks and, for whatever reason, I wink back and take a bite. They taste a little off, but maybe they were made this morning and have been left out a while. Plus, I’m starving, so I get started on the second one.

Jo laughs. “Slow down, Maddie.”

I frown at her. “It’s chocolate, Jo. I know what I’m doing.”



* * *



Dear reader—I, in fact, had no idea what I was doing. Cam informs me shortly after that they’re weed brownies.

I look around the table and recognize everyone’s done this before. That’s why they come here. I slowly finish the second brownie—putting it down would scream “novice”—whilst Cariad tells us (and three more of Jo’s friends sat at the table) about a couple she’s seeing.

“Couple?” I question. “Both of them?”

“Yeah, I’m not into any of that traditional stuff,” she says, taking a drag from the table’s pipe, blowing fragrant smoke into the air. “It’s all constructed so we can neatly tick boxes on forms.”

Wow. That was deep.

“I need to pee,” I suddenly announce.

I stumble a little maneuvering out of the booth, but I’m upright in no time. In the bathroom, I start laughing as soon as I’m urinating; I try smothering it and snort instead. I go to wash my hands and see in the mirror above that I have a manic smile spread across my face. I try to straighten it out, but I can’t. I tap the mirror. “Silly, you.” My reflection laughs and makes me laugh with her. A woman comes in and I keep laughing, pointing to the mirror, trying to get her to join in, but she’s not interested. “Some people have no sense of humor,” I tell my reflection.

“Fuck off,” she says from inside the cubicle.

I return to our table.

“You okay?” Cam asks. When I nod, she eyes me and says, “Bit quick for these to work.”

“Maybe it hits different on newbies,” Jo says.

“Aw, have we corrupted a purist?” Cariad asks. “Virgin, too?”

I gasp. “Your mouth,” I tell her, “needs soap.” I then laugh hysterically and they all laugh with me.

This is the mood now, to sit and smoke and drink and talk until we see the sun. We share secrets. I tell them about Ben and that sex is painful. “Maybe he’s shit and you’re not wet,” Cariad says and I can’t quite grasp what she means.

I don’t know what happens to time, but the pulses of energy leak out of me, leaving me loose and serene. I’m happy to just sit here amongst distorted conversation and colorful, perfumed fog. When it’s not my turn to speak, I think of old memories, things I haven’t thought about in years. Like when I first came on my period and Mum was in Ghana so she had to send someone I didn’t know very well to help me. Or sneaking into James’s room when he called to say he was staying over at a friend’s house, and staring out of his bedroom window. Dad nodding to teachers at parents’ evenings in a crowd filled with mothers. Watching Serena Williams play Wimbledon, Dad looking up from his newspaper and asking, “Do you like tennis, Maddie?” I think of the lemon cake Nia made me for my fifteenth birthday; it’d looked like she’d dropped it but it tasted incredible.

Then there’s blurred lights and the cool touch of glass on my forehead. We’re in a cab, just Jo, Cam, and me, driving out of Trafalgar Square. The world is slow tonight but shimmers brightly.

“I get what everyone’s talking about now,” I say quietly. “Move out, Maddie. Live a little, Maddie. I never wanted to admit it, but I’m so glad to be out of the house and living my life. I hope that doesn’t make me a bad person. I almost can’t blame James for abandoning me, because there’s just so much out there, you know? I have a boyfriend, a better job, and I’m going on holiday with new friends. I don’t cry at night anymore.” I hold my arms out. “I’m free.”

“It’s a good life,” Jo slurs. Cam snores from the other side of the cab.

I close my eyes and hum a song I’ve just made up.





Chapter Eighteen


I can’t lift my head the following morning.

My phone buzzes and my temples pulse. My mouth is too dry to open. I reach for my phone and realize my eyes are still closed. The daylight is blinding and I curse the sun.