He was flustered. He wanted to be away from her, he wanted to organize his thoughts. ‘OK,’ she said and sat down.

When he came back, she was nodding to the song on the radio, softly singing along. She had turned up the volume. He sat on the bed, half-facing her. He kept the Coke on the table beside the radio, beside her handbag. Her legs were crossed. He wanted to ask her where she had been – he had not seen her in class for over two weeks.

He said, ‘Your Coke.’

‘Thanks.’

He wanted to ask her why she had bags under her eyes, why she looked thinner, unhappy.

‘Diana Ross,’ he said. ‘You like her?’

‘My favourite, “Upside Down”.’

‘I prefer “Endless Love”, with Lionel Ritchie. But she can’t sing like Millie Jackson, or Betty Wright.’

‘I disagree. She has more class.’

‘But less soul.’ He wanted to ask why she was here today.

She said, ‘My father’s favourites are Sam Cooke and Otis Redding. I grew up listening to them. My father was just crazy about soul music. He bought stacks of their records when he was in America… I have them now. He gave them to me, complete with the turntable. I guess he is a bit too old for soul music now.’ She laughed.

‘You never get too old for good music.’

There was silence. The atmosphere became a bit heavy; the magic that had animated it a moment ago had fizzled out.

Lomba picked a magazine up from the table and opened it. ‘My write-up, it came out last week.’ He handed her the magazine.

‘ “The Military in Nigerian Politics”,’ she read the title. ‘My father is a soldier.’

‘I know. I am not condemning them all.’

‘That is not what I mean,’ she said, shaking her head.

‘What do you mean?’ He was being obstinate and childish, he knew, but he could not help it. After all, it was she who had come knocking on his door.

‘I just wanted to see you and maybe say sorry for the other day,’ she said. She gulped down half of her drink, picked up her bag and stood up. ‘Now I have to go.’

He stood up. She had not moved from her position, so they were face to face. She was the same height as him. He marvelled at the pure white of her eyes.

Now she turned and made for the door. ‘Maybe after today you won’t avoid me so much in class,’ she threw over her shoulder.

He stood and watched her back till she reached the door. All he could think of was that he had been given an opening for God knows what reason, and he had bungled it. If only he had the guts, he’d reach out and pull her back and crush her lips with his. He gulped the rest of her Coke and followed her outside.