Stephen parked his car in front of Premier Beauty Salon at 9:20 a.m. "What time do you usually close from work?" he inquired. Emily flashed a warm smile. "I don't have a fixed closing time. I wrap up when the last customer leaves."
"Really?" Stephen exclaimed raising an eyebrow, looking surprised. "That sounds pretty unfair."
Emily grabbed her beauty case and stepped out of the car. "Call me when you're ready to leave," Stephen suggested. "Let me have your phone number."
During their short time together in the car, Stephen had enjoyed Emily's company immensely. From the moment she clung to him in fear of Warrior to their pleasant conversation during the drive, he felt at ease with her. To his surprise, he had found himself sharing a lot about his life. "I've been in the country for just about ten months, and it's been an exciting experience," he shared. "I work for High Avenue, and I absolutely love it."
Emily listened attentively, asking insightful questions that encouraged Stephen to talk more about himself. "What do you do at High Avenue?" she inquired.
"I'm a public relations executive, specializing in human resource development," Stephen explained. "I'm a people person, which is why I offer back rides!"
Emily burst into genuine laughter, and Stephen couldn't help but warm up to her. "Enough about me," he said, trying to shift the conversation from himself. "Tell me about your work."
"I specialize in making women look and feel good," Emily replied. "I enhance the beauty of those with less-than-average looks, make average women look beautiful, and even transform beautiful ladies into stunning ones. I'm a people person, and I'm not afraid to ride on the back of others when necessary."
Their laughter filled the car as they continued their conversation. Stephen decided he wanted to see Emily again and spontaneously offered to pick her up after work, even though she mentioned having an appointment with his mother the next day after church. Stephen jotted down Emily's phone number in his diary.
As they pulled up near Premier Beauty Salon, Stephen knew he wanted to spend more time with Emily. This decision was made on a whim, but he was determined to follow through.
As they said their goodbyes and Emily stepped out of the car, Lovelace, the salon's owner, watched from the glass door. She observed Emily laughing and leaving the car. Emily waved as Stephen drove away.
Once Emily entered the salon, she noticed the displeased look on Lovelace's face. Several customers occupied the salon, preventing the employees from chatting freely. Emily's coworkers hoped that Lovelace would inquire about her recent visit to Mrs. Adams's house, but she remained silent.
Diana, one of her coworkers, scrutinized Emily's face, searching for any sign of her emotions. However, Emily's face remained unreadable. Emily was known to smile, whether she was happy, hurt, or embarrassed, making it challenging to gauge her feelings by her facial expressions.
One customer, eager to get Emily's attention, called out, "Emily, please come and check my hair. I've been sitting under this dryer for ages! It's scorching in here!"
Emily washed her hands promptly and began tending to the customers one by one. Within minutes, most of the clients were requesting her services.
"Lovelace, Emily is Godsent to this salon," one of the clients complimented the owner. "She's so polite and accommodating."
"Absolutely," another client chimed in. "She's skilled and always makes me feel comfortable."
"I drive all the way here just because of her," a third client explained. "I live in Opeibea, where there are countless beauty salons, but Emily styles my hair exactly as I like it."
As the clients praised Emily, Lovelace excused herself and went to the backyard. She returned with towels and attended to some tasks outside. When she reentered the salon, only three clients remained.
"Emily!" Lovelace called out.
"Yes, Madam!" Emily responded, rushing over.
"I heard you went to Mrs. Addo's house three days ago for work," Lovelace stated.
"Yes, Madam," Emily confirmed. "She called the salon, requesting home service and wanted me to come immediately. I asked Hannah to inform you when you arrived."
"I see. How much did she pay?" Lovelace inquired.
"Fifty Ghana cedis, Madam," Emily replied.
"Why is there no record of it in the cash book?" Lovelace asked.
"It was recorded, Madam," Emily stated as she checked the records. To her surprise, the transaction she had recorded was missing, replaced by a different entry. She realized that what she had written was erased with a correction fluid.
"Madam, someone erased what I had written," Emily pointed out.
"Are you challenging me?" Lovelace snapped angrily.
"I'm just stating a fact, Madam," Emily replied firmly. "I'm not dishonest, and everyone here can vouch for my honesty. Even when clients call me for weekend services, I record the transactions when I can collect the money during my off hours."
The salon fell silent. Emily had never spoken with such passion before. She was typically reserved and friendly, even when Lovelace berated her in front of clients. Her coworkers were left speechless.
"Well, I've decided you should leave the salon and go home on a two-week suspension, starting now!" Lovelace shouted in anger.
"Lovelace, please reconsider," one of the clients interjected. "You should review your records."
"Get out!" Lovelace screeched. "Do you want to harm your own business?"
The client attempted to reason with Lovelace, highlighting Emily's value to the salon. However, Lovelace was resolute in her decision. In the end, Emily grabbed her handbag and left the salon. She stood by the roadside, waiting for a bus, feeling dejected.
A car pulled up beside her, and a woman inside asked, "Where are you headed?"
Emily recognized the woman as one of the clients present when Lovelace had driven her out of the salon. "I'm going to Opeibea," Emily replied.
"Let me give you a ride home," the woman offered. "I live in Opeibea too. Can you come to my place to do my hair every weekend? Here's my card. Call me on Friday."
Grateful, Emily accepted the offer and, upon arrival, the woman even gave her some money. "You'll succeed in your profession because you have the skills. Don't be discouraged," the woman encouraged. "Lovelace was jealous of you. We all noticed her mistreatment because she felt threatened by your talent."
When Emily reached home, her cousin Maame was the only one there.
"I've been suspended from work," Emily announced as she slumped onto the sofa.
"What happened?" Maame inquired, and Emily explained the situation briefly.
"I've never trusted that woman. She seems insincere and threatened by you," Maame observed. "You're too confident to be just an employee there. So, what's your plan now?"
"I'm not sure yet," Emily replied. "I didn't expect to be suspended, so I need some time to plan my next steps. But one thing's for sure; I'm going to bed right now."
Upon entering their shared bedroom, Emily was shocked to find it in disarray. The room that had been neat when she left was now chaotic. Maame, her cousin and her aunt's only daughter, was back home for the weekend from her private university. Despite Emily being older, she continued to serve her cousin, washing her clothes, cooking for her, and tending to her needs.
As they grew up, Emily always felt like the servant in their home. In her early days in the Narh's household, she was frequently beaten for frowning or showing any signs of anger when scolded. Over time, she learned to smile, even through the pain. When her uncle punished her, he expected her to remain silent. Emily would do her best to suppress her cries as tears flowed down her cheeks, lest she faced further consequences. Her attempts to escape back to her parents had been futile; her mother always sent her back, believing it was the best place for her.
"Emily, you are safer at your aunt's place. Techiman is not a place for young people like you," her mother would say. "Mother, I do all the work in the house. I would wake up at four in the morning and sweep the house, clean everywhere, cook the food, fetch water and ensure that breakfast is ready before everyone wakes up. Maame would sleep until six in the morning, and I would have to fetch water for her to bath. When anything gets missing, they would beat me. When anything gets spoilt, I'm accused wrongly. I'm not happy over there Mother; they treat me like a slave. The fish they give me is too small to the extent that Maame would give me some of hers," she would tell her mother. "I understand how you feel my Dear, however it's safer for you to be with your aunt," her mother would say.
In the end she was sent back to her aunt's house and the last time she was sent back, she had decided not to go back to her parents again. She concluded that they didn't love her and decided to forget about going back to them.
Emily's heartache eventually led her to find solace in God. She loved her Sunday school teacher, Auntie Okaibea, who offered her guidance and taught her how to pray. Auntie Okaibea provided emotional support and became a mother figure to Emily. As they spent time together, she imparted valuable life lessons, helping Emily cope with life's challenges. Emily's weary smile eventually evolved into one of sincerity, even in times of hardship.
Sighing with weariness, Emily decided to tidy up the room instead of falling asleep as planned. Just as she was about to fall onto her bed, Maame walked in.
"Wow!" Maame exclaimed. "That's my Emily! Can you make some rice with chicken stew for me? I'm starving."
Dragging herself to the kitchen, Emily began preparing the meal for her cousin. As she cooked, she considered her options. She had been working towards opening her own salon, had purchased equipment, and talked to a potential landlord. She decided to contact James, a fellow church member who owned several shops, to discuss renting a space.
After setting the table for Maame, Emily finally retired to bed. Her phone rang just as she settled in.
"Are you still at work?" Stephen's voice came through.
Emily glanced at the clock; it was now a quarter past nine. "No, I'm at home," she replied, stifling a yawn. "I'm sorry I didn't call you as planned."
"Is everything okay? Do you want to talk about it?" Stephen asked with concern.
"Not right now," Emily replied. "I have a meeting with your mother tomorrow after church. Maybe we can talk then."
"What are you up to at the moment?" Stephen inquired.
"I'm in bed," Emily admitted. "I was just about to fall asleep when you called."
"In that case, I won't keep you awake. Good night," Stephen said.
"Good night," Emily replied, ending the call.
Stephen felt deflated. He had hoped to chat with her, share his day, and tell her about his adventures. However, it seemed Emily didn't want to talk. He had expected her to object when he mentioned not wanting to keep her awake, but she simply said, "Good night." He sensed her boredom and wondered if she truly enjoyed talking to him.
Anger welled up in Stephen, and he turned on the television, spending the evening alone. It was a long night ahead, and he hadn't made any alternate plans because he had hoped to spend it with Emily.