“Your father cares for you, Blessing,” said Lydia.
“A little too much,” said Blessing. “He asked whether my car was truly safe in one of John Ferris’s wooden sheds. He offered to buy me a wheel clamp to stop anyone stealing it.”
“Well, there have been thefts of equipment and vehicles from rural farms,” said Lydia. “Maybe that’s not such a daft idea.”
“My mother saved me from further interrogation by dishing up dinner,” said Blessing, “but my reprieve was only temporary. I was ready to sink into a comfortable chair and relax after we’d eaten, but my parents had other ideas. They wanted to show me around the village. My father told me the fresh air would do me good. He said I spent far too long in a stuffy office.”
“How did that go?” asked Lydia.
“As soon as he said that I was a dutiful daughter and he and my mother had tried to raise me correctly, my heart sank. We left the house and walked to the church they were so keen I should visit. St Peter’s is another place in the village built by the Norman nobleman who came to these shores with William the Conqueror. From there, we walked to a tithe barn constructed in the fourteenth century. Do you remember when I visited Mere with Gus? Several parts of the village and the surrounding area belonged to the Duchy of Cornwall. My mother told me yesterday afternoon that the tithe barn is privately owned and also belongs to the Duchy.”
“That means, Charles, the Prince of Wales owns it, Blessing,” said Lydia. “Your parents are rubbing shoulders with royalty.”
“I doubt he’s ever been anywhere near it,” said Blessing. “My father was quiet while my mother spoke with me about the history of the village. I couldn’t help thinking he had something on his mind.”
“What do you mean?” asked Lydia.
“Although my parents moved to this country many years ago, their Nigerian culture remains traditional and conservative,” said Blessing. “I know my mother only wants what’s best for me, but, at best, my father has tolerated my life in the police. He sees it as a passing fancy. I am twenty-one years old, Lydia, and I might already have been married for several years in Nigeria. My father believes in a marriage where men are head of the household. Because of this, in his world, a good marriage will be my crowning glory. I want a career and to wait for the right person to come along. I want to marry for love.”
“Of course you do, Blessing. I know when Dave Smith broke up with you, you were hurt. You had hopes of a lasting relationship with him, didn’t you?”
“I wasn’t sure Dave was the one,” said Blessing, “but he was the right one for right now if that makes sense. As we passed Manor Farm, another building carrying the Duchy of Cornwall crest, my father announced he had spoken to a senior member of an Igbo family in Owerri, the capital of Imo State.”
“Your father wants to arrange a marriage for you?” asked Lydia. “That’s shocking. Is it even possible?”
“It’s not unusual, Lydia, especially in Nigeria. Often, the young bride doesn’t meet her husband until the wedding day.”
“I’m half-Nigerian,” said Lydia, “and even I find it barbaric. What did you say?”
“I told him I didn’t want to go against his wishes, but I wanted to choose my husband,” said Blessing. “He reminded me I should be a dutiful daughter and realise he had my best interests at heart. Then he blamed my mother for putting fanciful ideas in my head. I left earlier than planned and drove home to Worton. Jackie Ferris let me cry on her shoulder. It was a dreadful end to the weekend.”
“Poor you,” said Lydia. “What happens now? Will your father continue to plan your marriage despite your objections?”
“I can only hope my mother will work on my father over the coming days,” said Blessing. “That’s her way. Like water on stone, a constant drip will erode the strongest rocks in time. If she can wear my father down, I shall avoid cutting myself off from the family I love. For once, I’m looking forward to my mother’s phone call on Wednesday evening.”
“I feel guilty sharing the news we received at the weekend now,” said Lydia.
“Don’t be silly,” said Blessing. “Your mother and father meeting after so many years was the opportunity for a joyous occasion. Was it a success?”
“Alex thought it might be awkward for Eleanor when we heard both Chidozie and Rosa flew from Rotterdam,” said Lydia. “I knew it would have been harder if Chidozie had travelled alone. Twenty-six years is a long time. They’re different people now.”
“I expect you will visit with your mother soon?” said Blessing.
“Alex and I plan to get away next weekend,” said Lydia. “I want to hear about the time they spent together. So far, all I know is that Rosa de Vries and Eleanor got on like a house on fire. Chidozie took them to The Table, one of the best restaurants in the city, on Saturday evening. Eleanor told me Chidozie invited her to Dubai in the autumn. Perhaps, we can visit at the same time. That would be great.”
“It certainly sounds as if there were no awkward moments,” said Blessing.
“I’m sure my birth parents will follow a similar process to the one I did with Eleanor when I first made contact,” said Lydia. “Small steps, to give the relationship the chance to develop at its own pace. Eleanor and I will stay just friends. We’ll never be too close to one
