ONE YEAR AGO...

The paved compound of Uncle Philip's house was warm beneath my feet, a victim to the blazing sun above. My feet were bare as they walked onto it, and I settled down at the side of the house. My body was used to this by now. And besides, this side of the house was my favourite place. The gates were only tall at the front of the building, but shorter at the sides, and so whenever I felt like it, I could climb up and peer over the other side to see what the world was up to.

I rested my back against the blue wall of the house, notebook in one hand and Chocolate cake in the other, just as the sound of crashing came from inside. Uncle was at it again. His own hangovers got him in a bad mood. Like he was angry at himself for having a headache, but whenever he got the chance after coming back from the office, he'd just drink again. By now, I knew it was wise to stay out of the way when he was in that mood. Besides, it was a nice morning, and nice mornings always gave me motivation to think up a new recipe.

I set Chocolate cake on the ground beside me, and I wondered if he was too hot under all that wearing caramel fur. I thought about washing him again. Not only will the water cool him down, but it might get rid of some of those old stains and give him a glossy coat again.

Chocolate cake was the last thing I had left of Auntie Gifty before she died. I wasn't sure what kind of animal he was supposed to be; with floppy ears and a short button nose, and four paws. He could've been a rabbit, or a dog. Nevertheless, he was a good friend of mine, and I needed to make sure I took care of him. He was the only home I had.

I opened my notebook to a clear page, and tapped my pen against my chin. "What do you think, Chocolate cake? Should I do dessert or supper"?

The stuffed animal's beady eyes stared up at me curiously, and I looked at them. I thought I heard him say dessert, and so I nodded and started thinking up another new sweet recipe.

"There is still powdered cream in the kitchen. I haven't opened it yet. Maybe I can make a cream pie. I saw it on TV the other day. We can maybe make it a fruity flavoured cream..."

I flinched as I heard the sound of glass shattering from inside. "JEMIMAH," I coiled at the sound of my Uncle's voice. "GET IN HERE NOW. WHERE ARE YOU"?

I sighed, and stood up, setting the notebook down next to Chocolate cake. "Stay here, okay"? It was only when I turned and started walking back round to the front of the house, that I realised how hot the compound actually was under my feet.

My heart hammered in my chest when I entered the dreaded building, and a lump began to form in my throat; I didn't know what he had called me for-probably to clean up his broken furniture- but I just needed to hurry up and clean it, so I could get back to my home.

                                                                   ________________________

CURRENT DAY

My new home was a two-storey red brick house, much like all of the other houses on that street.

Essex, Susanne explained, was a decent place in the countryside, not too crowded and busy like London, and not so rural that I couldn't get the taste of what city life was like. "You'll like it here," She assured me.

A wave of warmth washed over me, as we entered the house, and I breathed a sigh of satisfaction, having been out in the freezing cold.

"Katie! We're back," Susanne called, removing her coat, and hanging it on a hook on the wall.

I looked around at the wide hallway with the dark wooden floor. White frames were rowed neatly on either side of the walls, family pictures and paintings displayed inside of them.

Was this going to be my home now?

The sound of footsteps thundered above us, and a girl stood at the top of the wooden staircase, stayed still for a moment, and then walked down the stairs.

"Jemimah, this is my daughter, Katlynn," Susanne introduced her excitedly.

From behind my Dad, I peered over at the girl who looked nothing like her mother, with large, deep grey eyes instead of blue, and shoulder length raven black hair with purple highlights stripping through it. Her style was not as pristine and perfect as Susanne's, but she still wore a very girly, hot pink sweater with bright blue jeans edged with white glitter.

She looked back at me, her freckled face showing no sign of emotion, making me worry about what she might think of me.

"Hi," She said, quietly.

"Hey," I replied, awkwardly.

"Katie, meet my daughter, Jemimah," Dad rested his hands on my shoulders, and I felt myself heat up with embarrassment. I looked down at my feet, as I felt Katie's eyes still on me, "She is part of this household now. You've got extra company!"

"Yeah," Katie smiled, but it looked forced and didn't quite reach her eyes, as she took my duffel bag from me, "Come on. Let's take your things to your room".

"I'll boil some tea. You guys come down when you're ready. Katie, why don't you give Jem here a little tour"? Dad patted my head, and I still felt slightly embarrassed by the attention. I didn't want him to go just yet, but I didn't say anything, as I followed Katie up the stairs.

There were four white doors on the second floor of the house. Katie told me that the one at the very end was the bathroom, and we walked in the opposite direction to my room. "This is it," She pushed the door open with her shoulder, and lay the duffel bag on the floor.

My eyes widened in awe as I took in my surroundings. The walls of the bedroom had been painted a pearl pink, and a single bed was laid with pink and gold covers in the centre of the room. A white desk was on the right hand side, piles of brand new books covering its surface. On the right was a white wardrobe and matching dressing table, and all this was neatly organised on top of a soft beige carpet.

"It's...it's beautiful," I breathed, curling my toes into the soft carpet. Then my eyes landed on something on the bed; a large pink cat plushie resting on the pillows. My heart seemed to leap, as I walked over to the bed, and picked it up. My fingers sank deep into its brand new, glossy fur. I could tell it had been well taken care of. "All this is mine"?

"You're acting like you've never seen a room before," Katie replied, folding her arms, "You're Dad bought all this just before he left. Not my style, but if you like it, you like it".

I walked over to the window above the desk, and took in the view of the houses on the opposite side of the road. The houses, all of them, were rowed neatly in a straight line, hugged together as if to keep themselves warm from the harsh weather. As we had driven into this street, I thought about the neighbourhood in Accra, where the houses were all different colours; blue, pink, orange, yellow, and were scattered all over the place with a mixture of small stores, salons and repair shops between them.

It was so different here.

"Um, Thomas said you would think of your preferred decorations when you got here," Katie muttered from behind me, "That's why the room is so boring right now". I turned and looked at her, shocked by the sound of her calling my Dad by his first name.

Despite this, I smiled at her, "It's so nice...I didn't expect this big room".

"I wouldn't call it big. I guess it's very different from how you used to live. Did you share with a lot of people"?

I was shocked by Katie's direct question, and looked down at the ground, fiddling with the end of one of my cornrows, which had come loose from its braid.

I didn't really have people around back there. It was just me and Uncle Philip. And my room in that place was practically a cupboard, even though the house was huge.

But I wasn't about to tell her that.

Katie seemed to realise I wasn't going to answer, and so changed the subject, "We don't usually get Africans around here," She said to me, "We get black people. But not Africans. This area is predominantly white, so people might find you a bit strange at first, so if they look at you weird that's why".

I shifted my feet on the carpet. "I get it. They do that in Ghana, too".

"Do what"?

"Stare at foreigners. If you go to my place right now, people will stare at you too. I think it's because of curiosity".

"Right..."Katie said slowly, "Um. I think people here think differently to Ghanaians, though..."

"Oh of course. But I'm happy to be here. I hope we can become friends"? I had planned my words out since I got out of the Uber. I wasn't one for people, but I didn't want to give a bad first impression to a girl who was practically my sister.

"Um, yeah..." Katie replied, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

The rest of the house was serene and pretty, and I could tell that the furniture was still new, as everything was so perfectly in place and polished up. I knew that Dad had recently moved in here from a few blocks down with Susanne and Katie, so that there would be more space for the four of us, but I hadn't realised he'd already got all the furniture and even went as far as organising my room for me. I was grateful.

When we were done upstairs, Katie led me down to the kitchen. I gasped when I saw how large it was, with cream coloured tiles on the wall, and a glossy wooden floor. The kitchen counters were huge, and so was the dining table. I was going to have fun here.

When we were done with the tour, Katie led me to the living room where the adults were, and I immediately went over to Dad, and sat next to him, and he wrapped his arm around me. "It's good to have you here, Jem," He said to me.

"I'm happy to be with you", I replied, looking down at my hands, "Thank you for bringing me here, Dad...it still feels like I am imagining things".

"Did you see the cat plushie in your room"?

"Yes, I love it".

"I know nothing can replace Chocolate cake, but hopefully it will do the job of comforting you", Dad said softly, and I nodded.

Dad smiled,"But you're really here, Jem. You're here, sitting by my side, and living in a house that has been waiting for you for a very long time".

I felt the smile tug against my lips at his words.

Things were going to change now. For the better.

"The ache for home lives in all of us. The safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned"-Maya Angelou

What do you think of Jemimah's first taste of the Western world? Let me know in the comments!

This chapter is dedicated to @cantiara for all her reviews on the unedited version of this book which has been so helpful to me!