Dear Diary 4

DEAR DIARY 1  HERE

DEAR DIARY 2 HERE 

DEAR DIARY 3 HERE 

Destiny is Pregnant – SECRETS 

“Hello Dinah when are you coming back – precisely?”

“I’ll be there in exactly 7 days why” – asked Dinah, quite sleepy and sore from the activities of the night before.

“There is something I need to show you ASAP –  the police have returned some of Mel’s belongings and I… I… I feel like we errrrmmmm … should sit down and talk through some of the things I have had a chance to peruse” said Catherine holding back the tension and exasperation in her spirit to scream down the receiver, her hands were shaking.

“What? Is there anything you’d like to talk me through on this call right now? I am disillusioned by the fact that we cannot tell for sure who this guy was and why their split had to drive her to such a tragic end, who is he? where is he based? is he someone we should know or already knew, and why did it take the police this long to say anything or just return her stuff?

“Di, stop with all the questions, there is so much I want to tell you right now I just can bear it, I am shaking, I am uncontrollable, I want to wake Mel up to answer some of the questions herself, I am completely berserk with anger and writhing in pain and confusion, they didn’t split Dinah”

“They didn’t, so what did they do, what happened”

“No, it wasn’t a split” responded Catherine

“So, what happened, tell me and don’t dare go monosyllabic on me, it’s not helping my heart-rate right here and now – please “

“She found out he was ‘married’ Dinah, or knew he was married, they actually got along well in this secret thing but unfortunately he died”

“OMG he died –  when how why didn’t she say anything” Dinah asked feeling a stab in her heart for the pain her friend could have endured in silence losing someone so special.

“Errmmmmmm, promise me you’d calm down and do not say a word till you get here?”

“Why, I dare not, she was my best friend, she was our friend our sister we had each other’s back”

“Yes, we did, which is why this revelation is revolting, I feel like she was selfish keeping it away from us or from me or even indulging in the act in the first place, I do not get the attraction, was it the money or the lifestyle – what could have pushed her to find herself unable to detangle and distinguish right from wrong to this extent …  she was our best friend”

“Oh no! –  Catherine, hang on, don’t be too harsh to condemn her, you know how she always felt judged and scrutinised by us especially you maybe she had a good reason to keep this private. Plus you don’t speak evil about the dead” Said Dinah defensively to Catherine

“Yes, Dinah I am always the judgemental one, right? the rubble-rouser and she was the perfect little miss sunshine, right? – well, how about the fact that the mystery man we never got to meet was your dad? Mel was having an affair with your dad and she was pregnant for him before he died. I’m sorry babe’s but it’s all here in her diary”

Dinah’s shock was so surreal she burst out laughing… Sitting upright on Tate’s bed she pushed the covers away as the heat was suddenly rushing from her legs into her face… Catherine was prank-prone but this was out of the ordinary…

Catherine’s voice echoing something made her sit still and listened…

“Justin was the best thing that could ever happen to me at the wrong time, he was caring handsome kind and very passionate. In his arms, I found a certain kind of peace and calm that assuage the guilt of him being the father of my best friend, I may never be able to tell the world this is his child but I can live with the fact that he loves every fibre of me and is making every effort to make sure I am happy and feel loved. The world can now stop rotating around any orbit for all I care – I love this man”  

“Are you there Di, that is an excerpt from one of the pages and this one is better than some of the rated 18+ ones I have read, that is your Miss sunshine – Catherine added upset and spiteful.

What befuddled Dinah even more was that Catherine didn’t seem to be laughing or giving any clues of this being a prank – her tone was bullish and angry, she was blatant blunt and upset.

Finally, Dinah found her voice again and asked “Catherine who else have you told about this?”

“No one of-fucking-course, I have not been able to sleep since reading most of it last night… Did you have any incline at all?

“Of course, not – I probably would have killed her myself. Coincidence never rang a bell but if you remember correctly, all of the times my dad was in Europe she was always travelling and couldn’t meet him, maybe they had other plans to make sure they were never seen together? They must have hidden this really well.”

“Sure thing, they had other plans and she sometimes never travelled she was just locked in a 7-star hotel somewhere in the city” stated Catherine Dinah could taste the sarcasm in her voice and did not blame her one bit.

“Be candid with me Catherine, did my dad strike you as that kind of man?” Dinah asked Catherine looking for any clues that there must have been a certain give away in her dad’s persona that emanated such a man – the type she couldn’t stand!

“What kind of man? The type who dates his daughter’s best friends, Errmmmmmm no, no man strikes anyone like that until they make the forbidden request, some men are absolute “skunklemen” skunks and gentlemen combined – you cannot judge such by their looks and appearance, in that one turn of their literal tails, their scent engulfs the situation like now.

“Fact is, your dad was a charismatic metro man and I could see why Mel fell for him” she finalised with a suspicious unnoticed giveaway husk in her voice.

“Meaning?” Asked Dinah picking a subtle jealous and lustful tone underneath Catherine’s utterance which made her last remark rather out of place.

“No-no I just mean Daddy Justin had swag – Rest his soul”

I wonder if my mum knew about this… if not I’ll make sure she does because I cannot see myself keeping this… It’s too much… It’s overwhelming, how could they, when did this even happen right underneath my nose and I could barely pick up any signs, they betrayed us all.

A text message signal ended her emotional rampage and she looked at her screen and the message summary showed it was from her mother, she dragged the full text and it read

“Hey Di, please come home as soon as you get this message we need to talk, it is PERTINENT that you know you cannot be with Tate, as a matter of urgency please come home ASAP you read this, there is something I need to tell you, I’ll explain when you get here. Xx “

Her mums text message hit her like lightning bolt, she was not done dealing with Catherine’s revelations about her late friend Mel and her late father, now she had to hear her mum broke her heart.

Scenes of her entangled in Tate’s sheets last night, throes of passion, enthralled in his person and all pushed the boundaries of her mental tolerance and she burst into tears, Catherine didn’t soothe or console her because she too was as shocked at her end of the phone not knowing what double whammy just hit Dinah.

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The phone fell onto bed as her emotions merged into something terrible sadistic, pathetic self-pity, she was ruined, and didn’t see herself fighting over Tate with whatever her mum wanted to say,  she just wanted to go back to her work and life now the UK, her tears exploded, she drained her pain through her eyes and poured her heart out as her body shook in Tate’s bed, she drew the sheets up close as her body expressed the pain in convulsing sobs deep down Tate’s pillow, only this time she was devastated unlike last night when her sobs into the pillow were of pure joy and ecstasy and ‘YES’ to everything that Tate demanded.

How greedy can pain be, one minute you are happy and ecstatic the next pain crawls in and turns it all to mash like a thief in the night, like a moment of fireworks that brighten the sky and vanished to nothingness! She lamented, she sobbed, on the other end Catherine hung the call and also dried her tears, turning to the Diary on her lap and read the paragraph about Mel and Justin having sex in Dinah’s house for the first time, looking for clues of what could have pushed their friend to do this – but remembered it was the fifth time she was reading that page.

A good timing for Tate to walk into the bedroom carrying a breakfast tray for Dinah to meet her convulsed in a state of pain and reprehensible intense crying, while her phone lay next to her hand on the pillow she’d buried her head into. His first reaction was to pick it up and try to understand what she must have heard or seen to upset her this much and immediately he could tell it was all about him – his eyes landed on the message from someone named on the phone Mummy Sue.

He gently placed the tray on the cabinet next to the dresser and climbed into bed, carried Dinah up into his arms and shushed her with a few kisses. Her mum’s texts still resonating in her head, even Tate’s kisses were doing nothing to soothe the ache in her heart, her priority was holding her sanity in check…

She managed a whisper in response to Tate’s questions
“My dad… My dad… Mel, my Mum” nothing more came out

He shushed and cooed to her like to a baby and she calmed down as he wrapped his arms about her the length of their bodies warmed up against each other and his hands stroking her back until her breath came in guffaws and she could breathe again.

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Tate served her breakfast after she had managed to freshen up, eyes all swollen and hair a tangled nappy mess. She walked out of the bathroom with him on the phone laptop on his lap looking all handsome in his morning glory and stubble, he gave her a wink and she managed a weak smile back in appreciation.

She walked to the foot of his bed picked up her clothes and wore every rumpled one of them with no question of her dignity, the walk of shame has never been this easy, what was more difficult was her mum waiting at home with a message that might just nail her hopes of love to the cross, she could see herself losing a fine man like Tate over what her mum’s text held.

She ate little of the scrambled eggs and fried ripe plantain and picked up her bag to leave. Tate was very touchy and almost very needy but her mind had shifted… Nothing he said or did mattered.

“Take me home Tate please would you” she pleaded though she could not look at him in the face. His eyes were longing for more, her heart was yearning but her brain had more urgent matters to deal with so she persisted, “Take me home”

“Why it’s still very early, thought we could spend some time this morning just lying in and getting to know each other better. Mama knows you are here right, my dad rang her up last night so what’s the hurry about?

Tate didn’t make mention of the text message but knew absolutely where he will start tackling this as a matter of urgency – he wasn’t letting Dinah go regardless of the reason Mrs Beynang was trying to sell to Dinah, he was ready to fight for his love, he had respected and stayed in the dark about his feelings for so long!

He expected same resilience from Dinah, the same person who woke him up this morning with the softest kisses and strokes that got him to understand what he had been missing in his life for a very long time. How could a text destabilise her this much, is there something no one was telling him? Well, he knew his dad supported this move so why not Mrs Beynang? What was she worried about?

“I know but I just had a text from mum that she needs to see me ASAP to sign some papers with dad’s lawyers at 9 am …” That was a lie that heated her cheeks up so she detached her ready eyes and looked away pretending to clasp her earring into place…

Will she ever be able to tell him what her mum had said or make sense of her reason why? She was going home to question and understand her mum but there was an air of uncertainty on this one, this could be the end of a quick start for her and Tate.

Of all the women in his life she will be the one who stayed around the longest and got the shortest end of the stick… Literally.  Her heart ached at the thought, It Hurt.

At the Beynang’s Residence

Mrs Beynang could barely understand how she made it to the morning, the night was a disaster, she had cried in pain and held her sobbing deep down as she didn’t want Candice or the other house occupants to overhear her. Then she’d dragged her defeated frame up the stairs to her bedroom and the least she could do was text Dinah to come back home.

The maid had come to check on her that morning and she had requested a strong coffee and some apples for breakfast while she figured out what she will be doing with her life when her kids and Desmond would have dumped her after the revelations she had planned.

She had no choice but to reveal it all … the time had come for the truth – or a destiny awaited her family that will be a curse for a lifetime.

Mrs Beynang could not sit silent and watch Dinah sleep with her brother, it was not happening not when she was alive, she had never seen her children as a mistake, if there was any mistake in her life, it was the fact that she had hidden the truth, Justin was no longer alive to witness the shame of her actions, but her girls were mature enough to deal with it, so she decided to go ahead and call them to a meeting to break the news to them, 24 hours seemed too much so she made it a point to send another text to both of them saying a family meeting was urgent for the evening.

And she sent a quick line to Desmond

“We need to talk there is something you need to know”

“What time? can you make it a call if its urgent?” replied Desmond

“I think It’s better if we met in person – make it ASAP at the guest house” She texted back.

Sometime in the early 1980’s

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Desmond regularly visited family in the village where he grew up and could vaguely remember every single-family member on his mother’s side. His dad’s side of the family gave him no choice but to ignore and keep them at arm’s length because they were typically the true definition of “bite and blow” – killing you and smiling in your face just like they had done to his dad.

It was village knowledge, still hushed in palm wine bars and under mango trees that his dad’s brothers had killed his dad for the cocoa lands and farms that they jointly owned. His father was the first son and very resilient to be clear on the cocoa dealings. While his two brothers saw him as an Achill’s heel to their progress – they had married more than one wives, had more kids with mouths to feed, kept several concubines and expected his dad to support their village champion lifestyles. When it did not go as planned, his dad was found on one of the cocoa farms unconscious and later diagnosed to have drank poisoned palm wine – who else will walk into a man’s farm, locate his jars of palm wine before his morning harvest and poison them? The enemy was definitely in the same camp as his dad and must have been someone who had shared a drink with him.

Every indication pointed to a singular meeting that day with his brothers, his dad finally died weeks later and his mother encouraged him with the little money they had saved after the funeral to head to the city and find a job. Anything to get him away from the prying eyes of the old vultures.

In the foul womb of the night, when everyone was asleep and the world hummed from the activities of its inhabitants and the point when the clouds decide to shift around and birth daylight, he had crept out of his own home and village like a thief, away from the sight of his uncles. His mother had walked a mile with him carrying a bottle of palm oil, at the exit of the village, she had instructed him to take off his clothes, obediently he had done so, and stood in front of his mother in near to no clothes but his boxer-shorts and watched her call out a lineage of ancestors as she oiled his bare body and chanted to the gods for safe journey focusing on his legs and did same to his hands for the ‘Midas’ touch. Every motion followed by a hum and a chant, a ritual, known to be undertaken as protection for family and offspring’s rarely done by anyone other than the gifted hands in any family – he never knew his mother was a ‘Gifted’ until that night.

He walked away from the village and his mother, returning her wave as she faded in the distance and the sun rose almost the moment his feet touch the bus park and the villagers woke up to his absence _ life continued… he’d smuggled himself to a city he knew nothing and no one but a friend of his father who was a mechanic.

That was the start of his life. Looking at how far he had come, he had definitely taken off on a good foot with the blessings from his mother on that fateful given dusk of dawn.

His mother had managed to keep her children away from her late husband’s side of the family, a mission she executed for the rest of her life, and she’d managed it so thoroughly their existence was almost non-existent unless on days like these when Desmond returned and walked through the village, seeing familiar faces and reliving memories of his childhood.

He had returned time and time again to make sure his mum was well, but also his best friend still lived in the village and always the best person to recount his city adventures too, over a glass of palm wine and roast bush meat- his friend Mathew was like the brother he never had.

In the city, he had met Martha and fell in love with her almost instantaneously, working as a local mechanic and she selling in her mum’s food shed in the market their attraction was swift and sudden and he had asked her to move into his one-bedroom shared accommodation with him, he in his mid-twenties and she barely out of her teenage years was young, humble and beautiful, and their union was blissful with the meagre money he made. His hope kept him going and as fate would have it Martha never fell pregnant; the situation was mentioned often by his mother but not alarming to create worry, as the doctors had reassured him there was nothing medically and physically wrong with Martha.

Life trudged along with them until he had stumbled into a woman stranded with a broken car by the roadside one evening her name was Susan Beynang, he assisted and impressed her with his mechanic skills and later became her driver and the rest was history.

On this day, his visit to the village was devastatingly sad, he had walked into the yard greeted by this unbelievably lovable jovial and snotty nose toddler who smiled the most charming smile with no teeth. He was a charm. The explanations about who he was, was the main reason he was there. His friend Mathew and his wife had been involved in a fatal automobile tragedy. Mathew’s wife had died on the spot and Mathew a few days later is hospital not giving time enough for Desmond to get the news and get to the village to bid farewell to his best friend.

He had no brother, Mathew was his best friend and was like family so leaving their son with his mum was to them like the grandmother and only trustworthy person in the village. Mathew had died in hospital before Desmond got there and the moment he laid eyes on the boy his heart had shattered – he scooped the little man into his arms and though men don’t cry he had cried , cried for this innocent child who will never get to know his parents, cried for his best friend who had met and untimely end at the hands of a timber truck on his way from harvest with his wife on his motorbike, the timber had unchained and somehow smashed his motorbike and killed his wife on the spot while he managed to escape losing his legs, but the bleeding must have killed him a couple of days later. He held the little boy on his chest all afternoon as he followed through burial arrangements for his friend and wife, an exhausting day saw him knackered and knocked out on the floor mat with the little boy around his neck as though he knew this is the only man in the world who could genuinely be a father to him.

They both cut a very solemn picture on the floor making his mother shed tears of pain to see the burden the death of Mathew had imparted on Desmond’s life but also the pain of how the little boy was hanging to all he had left that remotely looked like his father.

After the funeral, she had managed to convince Desmond to take the boy with him to the city and have his wife start “practising” on how to be mummy and wife before they could finally have kids. He knew what the subtle innuendo in his mum’s undertone suggested but was reluctant to get into that head space of always justifying to his mum that children came in God’s time. He loved the little guy, and it was out of the question to leave the child in the village but he needed to run it past Martha.

Taking the child to the city wasn’t the problem, he would do anything for Mathew. The most heart-warming part was the way the kid clung to his chest from morning to night on the days he spent at the village, he was only 17 months old but wore his heart on his face. Desmond could feel his little heart beating in his chest every time he slept, and he asked himself if the kid even knew how bleak the future was for him if he remained in the village.

Life was unfair this child’s mum and dad had died so young – an unfair fate for all of them, but like his mum always said who are we to question God? He had told his mum he’d discuss it with his wife and they will come back for the little boy when the time was right.

That happened so quick because of who his wife was… She was nicked named mother Theresa because of her kindness and philanthropic nature. The boy was immediately taken to the hospital for check-ups, cleared of any worrying diseases apart from the build-up of mucus in his chest, he was hale and hearty, and always smiling, this time it even tore Desmond’s emotions when he realised the little man had started putting his words together and had somehow managed to call Martha ‘Mama’ from the moment he was placed in her arms.

Desmond officially named him TATE, an accolade for ‘illustrious son’ in his dialect and more importantly an A.K.A that Mathew always called him after he had found a city job and a city wife. It made both of them dizzy with laughter but Mathew meant every word, he was a friend who celebrated his friend’s success like it was his every single day, he boasted about Desmond to other village youths as the exemplary leader to emulate, he was his brother’s keeper.

As life progressed in the city, Tate was the face he and Martha drew inspiration from through all their early challenges, for so long until their first child was conceived. Desiree, the little bundle of joy filled their hands and heart in no time, she became their joy and Tate couldn’t be anything but the world’s best big brother. Desmond felt life had dealt him the best surprise in Tate… The son he never had but had all along. Tate complemented their lives and no one ever second guessed his paternity as their son. He was his first son to the world and so it remained even to the Beynang’s.

Paris Jan 2017…

Tate and Dinah will sit at a restaurant reminiscing about their rocky take off, a battle they never got to fight, it all happened that Dinah’s mum apologised to Dinah for causing her such heartache with her text about her and Tate’s relationship, Dinah, was so shocked the urgency in her mum’s tone had dissipated by the time she got home and heard her mum was in a meeting with uncle Desmond at the guest house and needed her to join them there.

She waited for over two hours on arrival at the guesthouse and when uncle Desmond came out he looked like he had taken the heat of something so Dinah’s heart ached so badly she felt sick, but uncle Desmond gave her a reassuring smile and motioned her to go in as her mum waited for her. On arrival in her mum’s living room she could tell her mum was crying or had cried and looked unsteady on her feet. She apprehensively walked in stood there staring at her mum as Mrs Beynang looked at her daughter and said …

“Di I’m so sorry, I know you love Tate, I don’t want you to ever be hurt, as you can see we are close family now and I won’t want him hurting you to cause a rift in the family.” she continued

“I have had a word with his Dad and it seems I am the only one who was blind to the fact that you two have come a long way and need to have your chance together-  from every indication he truly can handle this and has taken time and thought through it seeking his dad’s consent every step of the way to make this happen”

She smiled and moved closer to Dinah and added “Desmond has reassured me Tate means well, so you two have my support, it just was a little too much for me envisaging you two ending up with each other, but you both have my blessings and Desmond’s too”

Dinah had decided against unravelling anything about Mel and the workings of how it all happened between Mel and her Dad to her mum until she could lay her hands on the details and the dairy Catherine had mentioned.

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Mrs Beynang will in herself find inner peace after her confessions to Desmond that the girls were his , while he agreed that he saw a strong resemblance in Candice and Desiree but had chosen to keep quiet about it against his instincts.

So much would have been resolved in the most unexpected way leaving key secrets, secrets and making it possible for a love like no other to blossom, to open a new chapter that will lead to a wedding and a family and many good things.

Susan Beynang, will always remember in the back of her head that Mel’s baby could potentially have been a mistake and not Justin’s – that we will never be able to tell. Her relationship with Desmond too had to come to a natural end as Tate and Dinah got stronger, for respect of Martha and the kids , a tough decision Susan and Desmond will make with time.

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Dinah and Tate will clinch their glasses and drink to the beautiful chardonnay under the lights of Champs Elysee, she will look at Tate right in his big brown eyes and will smile, that wicked glimmer in his eyes and the smirk on the side of his lip will make her shudder with passion and love and aspiration for her move to joining him in Paris a thing of great accomplishment to their upcoming nuptials.

He will wrap his hands tighter around her shoulder, kiss her forehead and whisper

“Bienvenue a Paris mon bebe”

Thier love was made to withstand so much more till the end of time…

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All of this will definitely happen – but some secrets here on earth will always remain secrets here on earth but silly little human blunders to the eye of the creator, for he knows our thoughts, ways and deeds and judgement is His and His alone.

 

©PROPERTY OF DOROTHY DIAMOND – DO NOT SHARE, COPY, REPLICATE OR PRINT WITHOUT APPROPRIATE CREDIT.

FOLLOW ME ON TWITER_ @dakoharrey (PurfectEscape)

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INSTAGRAM _ @DorothyDiamond

Picture Credit – Pinterest

 

11 Responses to Dear Diary 4

  1. Baiye Frida says:

    Thanks Dorothy Diamond for this beautiful piece.
    Big Girl you Rock big time ya.
    So proud of you.
    Can’t wait for your novel.
    Am a big fan.

     
  2. Quinta says:

    Wow! Still hoping to read more…..this is an excellent piece of writing. Dorothy! U have a great talent as a writer. I don’t know how u came up with the names that fit to all the characters, the suspense untill the end still coming back for more. Great job! The best is yet to come. The sky is your limits.

    Dear Diary 2 almost gave me a heart attack, but the joy of knowing that 3 is ready prevent me from the attack. Ms Beynang tried like a woman…. but I wonder how long she is going to keep all that to herself. I am happy for Dinah and Tate (best part of the story).
    Dear Diary is written in a particular visceral style engaging you whole being like a real life feelings, excellent and thoroughly recomment you to read it. To sum it up Dear Diary;
    1- difficult puzzle
    2- mystery suspense & Romance
    3- Romantic suspens (Ngah no do me so again abeg)
    4- happy but with still have a question. Who got Mel pregnant? ? ?

    Dear Diary ROCKS!

     
  3. Abuh says:

    Wow!!!! Wow!!!! In short, “WOW” to d highest degree… That’s all I can say, “WOW!!!!”

     
  4. elizabeth enow says:

    Mami Doro you no go kill man…ok na we dey wait and huury up please.

     
  5. Veronica Njume says:

    Sah Dorothy u do am ya…Nollywood should hire u abeg….if I see this story line anywhere without u being credited I will start a case…kept me glued……goo d job .

     
  6. Goretti says:

    Aww, I can’t believe how well you weaved it all together. What a brilliant, captivating and intriguing tale.
    Two thumbs up!

     

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