weâd met. Weâd seen each other regularly in that time and had developed a routine of him visiting me at home at the weekends and one or two evenings in the week.
It was early on a Sunday morning and he was clutching a large bunch of lilies. I hadnât the heart to tell him I was allergic to them, and explained my sneezing fits as the start of a cold.
Heâd been quiet and, for the first time since weâd got together, hadnât made any physical move towards me other than a soft kiss to my right cheek. I might have been disturbed by this had I not been busying myself with the act of stifling my reaction to the flowers.
âCynthia. I have to go home to my country,â heâd said quietly. He had stared intently at the floor, avoiding looking at me.
âWhat do you mean, go home?â Iâd enquired. âWhy and for how long?â
Darius stood up and held me at the waist, towering over my five foot two frame. I swear I could see a tear in the corner of his left eye.
âI had a call last night and my family is in trouble. They need me â I must go and help them.â
He said he couldnât tell me the exact details because he didnât know very much more. Heâd had a call from his father, who asked him to go home. Dariusâs mother had been ill for some time but sheâd taken a turn for the worse and his father was having difficulty getting the authorities to provide the right treatment.
âMy father is an old man, Cynthia, and is frightened. Iâm the only son he has and he relies on me to get the treatment my mother needs. Itâs difficult in Nigeria as we donât have anything like your NHS. It may be it will just take a few words in the right place to get everything sorted out.â
Dariusâs company had booked the flight from Heathrow. Heâd already packed and was ready for the car that would pick him up first thing in the morning. I begged to know why he couldnât deal with everything from England. We have phones, emails and texts â even bloody letters!
âSurely your company can help out back in Nigeria? Do you really need to go?â I asked, throwing my arms around his chest and clutching onto him as a drowning man might a bit of driftwood.
He explained that Nigerians work better face-to-face and that his father always felt vulnerable when he was away. His mother suffered from a degenerative illness and it wasnât just about her care. Sometimes his father just needed to know there was someone else around to help.
âMy sisters are married and have moved away. They have their own families to look after. In my fatherâs eyes I need to help and of course I will.â
Darius was being kind and considerate so I tried to stop my selfish pleadings, acknowledging that his family needed him, possibly more than I did.
He kissed me gently and said heâd really miss me, that being in England had been a far better experience because of my kindness and hospitality. Iâd hoped heâd say because of his love for me, which he couldnât live without, but he didnât. He did look sad enough for me to believe he wasnât running away, that he did have feelings for me and heâd no choice but to go home. He handed me his business card and told me heâd be there for me if I ever needed him. I needed him then, so that wasnât true.
I tried to tell myself I wasnât too distressed by the end of our relationship. It had only lasted a couple of months, nine weeks in fact. Hardly a lifetime. In some ways Iâd been glad it was over as I had started to fall in love with him and that would never do. Although Darius had been a delightful distraction it was difficult explaining the time I spent with him. My family often questioned why I wasnât available for Sunday lunches, mid-week babysitting duties and the occasional Saturday shopping spree. Whereas previously Iâd been amenable to