When Love Crosses Class

Episode2TheArrival

THE ARRIVAL

The morning of Westminster is nothing short of Magical as it has a blend of quiet elegance and steady motion. As the first light touches the Gothic spires of the Palace of Westminster, the city begins to stir. Big Ben’s familiar chimes echo across the Thames, marking the early hours. Along the river, mist lingers just above the water, blurring the reflections of historic buildings and creating a dreamlike scene.

Commuters begin to fill the streets, dressed in coats and scarves, with many making their way toward government offices and nearby businesses. Double-decker buses pass by in a steady stream, and black cabs navigate the streets with practiced ease. The soft clatter of footsteps and low hum of conversation set a peaceful rhythm as people sip takeaway coffees or pop into local cafes for a quick breakfast.

With all these happenings, I stayed in bed not minding the business of the day. Dad had just got a call from Alex telling him he is on his way to our house with this stranger that may come and ruin my life if carefulness isn't applied in my dealings with him.

It was a typical Tuesday morning in Westminster as everyone went about their day, I have a Master’s class by 9:00am in the University of Westminster where I am studying Economics, but with the recent happenings, knowing that someone is coming today kept swiping the urge for school out of my thoughts.

While still curiously waiting for the arrival of this mystery man, One of our cars drove in and gave the usual honk Alex gives whenever he comes back from an errand or a trip. I stood up Quickly, rushed down with the speed of light as Dad had already stepped out of the mansion to give them a warm reception.

Alex came down from the car then tensioned everyone nearby. As the supposed driver stepped out a tall, dark skinned, sharply-dressed man with an air of unshakable composure. He wore a perfectly pressed black suit, crisply tailored to fit his lean, powerful build, and his gaze was steady and unwavering. His military-like posture radiated discipline, and his face, chiseled and calm, gave nothing away.

At the top of the mansion’s staircase, I looked on with a hint of disdain mixed with curiosity. Used to bending others to my will, I unconsciously raised an eyebrow as he approached. But the closer he got, the less sure I felt. Something about his quiet, intense demeanor like he could handle anything gave me a pause, making me feel a rare flash of humility. This was not a man who could be easily dismissed.

My Dad, who had been watching from nearby, gave a nod of approval and a rare, warm smile. He extended his hand in greeting, immediately feeling a kinship with this man. “Welcome,” he said firmly, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a shift in my usual world. This driver wasn’t just a driver, he was someone who could be an unshakable force, a challenge, and perhaps exactly what I needed.

Alex looking all filled, with a large smile on his face, received the welcome from my Dad. Then my dad, also filled with a fulfilling aura, asked him “What took you so long? And where did you find such a gentle fellow?”

“Sir, I found him in an African country precisely Nigeria, Port Harcourt, when you sent me on a trip to go on your behalf to negotiate with Julius Berger company in Nigeria, they assigned him to me as one of their trusted contract drivers, his carriage and manner of how he handled things were close to perfect so I had him in mind all these while.” Alex told my Dad.

My Dad with a positive assumption shook his head and was pleased “Welcome to my place, please feel alright and welcome, Alex will show you your quarter in the staff quarters, do well to refresh and come out for a welcome meal.”

The young strange looking man, eyes always on a target like he is suspecting something said “Thank you sir”

Ah… that was a relief, at least he understands English. My fear was his communication skills hoping it would be understandable and manageable. He followed Alex straight to his quarter while observing my Dad’s mansion like he was a detective sent to come monitor our household.

“Dad, you should at least get me a British driver that understands the environment and Navigation would not be a problem, how can he take me to my school, or to Susan’s or other places when he is not familiar with London? And how sure are you that he can speak plain English? What about his papers? His British driving license? You didn't put all these into consideration before accepting a total stranger from Africa to come stay at your home do you?”

Dad looked at me sternly, “He has a lot of time to get himself acquainted with Westminster, and I believe he understands digital maps, you have to guide him to wherever you want to go, give him proper directions, For papers and the rest we would work on it as not to expose him to any problem with the government. Like I said, he has a lot of time but it is in your hands to make it short, Be Careful with this one.”

I found myself dumb founded as my Dad has closed every hole at which I could raise another complain, knowing how smart he was I shouldn't have asked him this answerable questions, but I needed to vent my anger and hope to trap him in a rhetorical mood as he may not be able to answer the questions but it all crumbled at his feets as he had an intelligent manner at which he handles situation.

I went upstairs to my room and sat for a while wondering how the situation may turn out to be. Soon after, my Dad sent for me to come down, I wasn't sure why he asked me to come so I walked slowly on the staircase looking down at the living room to get a glimpse of the cause why I was called.

My Dad looked up and said “Come down here! There’s someone I want you to meet!”

With a sigh, I made my way down, wondering what this was about. As I reached the bottom step, I saw my Dad standing by the front door, looking expectantly at me, and next to him was the tall, imposing man with a calm yet serious expression.

The young man stood with his hands clasped behind his back, dressed neatly in a dark suit, and his gaze was steady, not the least bit playful or casual. There was something about his presence that made him feel unshakeable, someone who wouldn’t tolerate nonsense. I could tell right away he was disciplined, here for one purpose.

“This is your new driver, Mr. Tony,” My Dad said, with a rare tone of respect in his voice. “He’ll be taking you where you need to go from now on.” He looked between the two of us, as if wanting this to be perfectly clear. “And you,” he added, looking at me, “you will treat him with respect. Understood?”

I shifted my face to the corner of the house with an exhale that tells that this won't be easy

Tony gave me a small nod as well, but his expression remained unreadable, almost stern. I felt the weight of My Dad’s warning and something in the man’s quiet confidence made me think twice about testing him.

My mother looked at him in a skeptical manner, also wondering part of what I was wondering long along, his age. My mum asked “how old are you?” Tony replied, “I will be 29 in November ma’am”

This is the youngest that my Dad has ever employed, our age differences aren't that much compared to others. Peter the previous driver was 47 years old and still wasn't the oldest we have had.

“You can go to your quarter now Tony, Alex has gone out to make some arrangements to enable your stay in London to be free. When he comes it will take some weeks for you to start your driving Job. For now familiarize yourself with the environment.” my dad said to him.

This wouldn't be funny as Tony gazed at me for the first time as he left, looking at me like I was a target for him. He wasn't intimidated by me in any way when he saw me, I believe with time I will put him where he belongs and that will certainly be my driver and nothing more. As I walked up to my room, I scrolled through my phone to call Susan and tell her about this uncertainty.