Behind Closed Doors

Chapter Twenty-nine

There was an old mansion there at Billings Street in Lagos Island which was one of the sets for the new movie Phoenix was working on. The house had been built in the late eighteen hundreds, and Phoenix fell in love with the colonial-style décor and look of the place.

But there was a cloud over this: because of the fact that the house was located in the Island, whenever Henry came there on business, he would pack his car in one of the public parking garages where you paid hourly, cross to the CMS bus stop to board a ferry to the Apapa wharf, and when he was done, he’d come back, pick his car up, and then he would seek out Phoenix. The guy wanted some distance now because he did not want to be constantly reminded of the fact that he was loved more than the wife of the man who was doing him, and he felt bad when Henry complained that he felt stifled by his marriage to Fiona.

One day, the darling Rosalie Johnson paid a visit to the set. The cast was out in the manicured lawn on the cold July afternoon, and there was a light drizzle. They were all in a very foul mood because of the obnoxious director, one who was fond of making the lives of those around him a misery. And that was when the glittering red BMW sports car drew up to the gate, and for the moment, all attention was reverted to the sleek machine, right before the brief look turned into an outright stare as the stunning Rosalie stepped down from the car. She was turned out in a fitted knee-length gown that accentuated her slim figure, with the color matching perfectly with the color of her ride. She knew how to make an entrance, all right.

‘I hope I am interrupting nothing,’ she said as she walked towards the assemblage, her Chanel No. 5 wafting before her.

Phoenix tried to stifle the small smile that rose to his lips at the vision of this feline femme fatale; she was the nightmare of every married woman with a husband under the age of seventy, this forty-six-year old who was a go-getter. She was a woman who was set to conquer the world with her ruthless ambition and knack for doing the exact right thing. And it was what he wanted: the power she had.

‘Rosalie, darling, you look ravishing,’ he beamed at her, extending his arms right out to her. And she walked right into them with the theatrics of a theatre actress.

She kissed him on the cheeks, and when she withdrew, there was the blush stealing right into her cheeks. ‘Thank you, darling.’ And then she was talking about lunch with him, and he was agreeing to her suggestion immediately because he had to be with her and feed her ego. He had to massage her ego so thoroughly, she would be amenable to whatever he wanted her to do for him.

They went to Monique’s for a lunch of green salad, green vegetables, accompanied with red wine. In a roomful of young, beautiful women, there were sidelong glances being cast on her, and Phoenix pointed this out to her.

She waved it away as she was long used to the attention and often pretended that it wearied her. ‘By the way, there is this new article I have been seeing on the internet for some time now,’ she said as she took a dainty sip of her Chianti.

Phoenix became instantly wary. ‘Don’t tell me about it; I don’t want to hear it.’

‘And the Actors’ Guild has convened a meeting once again to decide on whether or not you should still be allowed to continue acting in the country, what with all the controversy you generate even with your ordinary breath,’ Rosalie continued airily as if she hadn’t heard him speak or seen the pleading look in his eyes. ‘I know the members of the Guild with the juice over there, and I have pulled few strings, so I think they intend to leave you alone. But that Ali Hassan－ we’ve got to talk about him now.’

Phoenix heaved a ragged sigh, and he thought that he should have known that Rosalie Johnson was a woman who did not have the time to seek out the company of people like him just like that; she was after something.