Pope was right. The resort had changed. It looked more… more alive, more welcoming, more refreshing. In each room I could see the work Naadu and her team had done. There were fresh tropical blooms in every bedroom and washroom. There were centrepieces of bright red and orange birds of paradise and heliconias, bright green ferns, pink, white and orange lilies, sanseveria and African violets. There were plants everywhere—on the balconies and verandas and in the corridors and reception were huge potted bamboo, xanthosoma, caladiums, echeverias and heliconias. I admitted, albeit reluctantly, to myself that she had done a magnificent job with all the flowers and greenery around the compound.

Pope had still not gotten round to getting a ‘showpiece’ for the lobby. The entrance and the right wall had tall glass windows through which you could see the beach and the ocean. There was a bouquet of white and yellow asters and chrysanthemums on the front desk and in a corner behind the receptionist was a pot of sunflowers. The left wall was blank. Pope kept saying he’d find a special painting to put up there. He didn’t know exactly what it was he wanted but he kept saying if and when he saw it he would know.

Though I tried to, I couldn’t completely avoid Naadu. She was after all working for the resort. Pope had employed me as a chambermaid and left me under the supervision of Mrs Hammond which meant that in addition to laying beds and scrubbing bathrooms and toilets, I did all the donkey jobs that no one else wanted to do— washed vegetables, peeled onions until tears filled my eyes, mopped the floors and occasionally, during peak hours, doubled as a waiter. Pope said I had to work my way up like everyone else and I was not to be given special privileges just because I was the owner’s daughter. I think that was the only part of the instructions Mrs Hammond heard—that I was not to be given special privileges. At the resort I couldn’t even speak to the ‘The Manager/Owner’ if it wasn’t about official business and if I was late, Mrs Hammond made sure I stayed and scrubbed the cast iron pots as my punishment. But like Mantse said, the pay was worth it.

Everyone had nice things to say about Naadu, and it was with a heavy heart that I saw Pope was the leader of her fan club. It was always Naadu this or Naadu that. And he thought it was a splendid idea that Naadu wanted to set up a new shop in Ada so she could serve her customers in and around the Volta Region. I thought it was just a ploy to get her to spend more time with Pope, but I kept my thoughts to myself. After all, why couldn’t she delegate one of her employees to do that? Why did she personally have to be there and why did it have to be every single weekend? Plus if she wanted a second shop for customers in the Volta Region why didn’t she set the shop up in the region itself? Why did it have to be in Ada?

“I’d really like you to get to know her better,” Pope said one evening when we closed from work.

“I’ll try.”

Pope must have told Naadu what I said because the very next morning she asked if I’d like to have a ‘girls-day-out’ with her. She wanted us to go to the Allure spa and get ourselves pampered. She said she had already asked permission from Mrs Hammond. I told her I had cramps. She ended up not going and I ended up having a holiday.

I turned to Aseye for advice. I consider her to be an expert on relationships (she’s watched every single telenovela on TV) and she is currently juggling three boyfriends.

“She’s worming her way into Pope’s heart and she’s preparing herself for her role as the new woman-of-the-house,” Aseye said.

“Role as what? No way is she going to become the woman-of-the-house.”

“It’s going to get worse when she gets children of her own. Your dad will totally forget you and Nene. She’ll have total control over your family. Then you’ll see her true colours. She’ll make Cinderella’s stepmom look like a fairy godmother.”

“Maybe he just has a crush on her.”

“Hmm. You mark my words. I have a bad feeling about this but to be safe just keep a close eye on her.”

But how could I do that when Mrs Hammond was on my neck from the time I reported to work at 7:30 in the morning until I closed at 5 in the evening? It was especially bad on weekends when all the ‘weekenders’ arrived and we were most often booked to maximum capacity. Since extra help was always needed at weekends, Mantse and I doubled as waiters and were sometimes on our feet until way past 10 p.m. By the time I got home I was usually too tired to do anything more than shower and head to bed. There was no way

I could monitor what Pope and Naadu were up to, but at least I consoled myself with the fact that Pope himself was equally busy in the kitchen on weekends. There were times he did disappear for an hour or two but I couldn’t very well ask where he had been or follow him, especially when Mrs Hammond’s hawk eyes were on me every second.