by Janice Nix
Ida sighed.
‘It’s nothing bad. It’s the case I keep my jewellery in. An attaché case. Would you please store that too?’
‘Yes, I’ll store that too. I’ll always help you. Remember – you’re family, no matter what.’
‘No matter what?’ I asked her. I could see that she looked sad as she said it. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m not blind,’ said Ida gently. ‘I can see that there are problems between you and my son.’
We sat together for a moment in silence.
‘I’m sorry, Mums. I didn’t want to tell you. I thought you’d be upset.’
‘And I am upset, Janice. But we need to think of Nadia. All of us do. I love her very much. I hope I’ll always be a part of her life. And of yours.’
‘Of course you will!’ I found that I had tears in my eyes. ‘Don’t even say that!’
‘Good. We’re family and we’ll act like family,’ said Ida. ‘We’ll help each other out and we’ll be there when we’re needed. Always.’
But Emmanuel and I were almost strangers by now. I knew that our relationship must end. I would have to leave his house and find a new home for me and for Nadia. But still, I dreaded telling him. And far worse than that, I dreaded telling her.
‘When will you talk to him, JanJan?’ asked Sabrina. She looked across at me as we sat watching the kids on the swings in Brockwell Park.
‘Soon.’
‘When?’
‘Very soon. I definitely will. I promise.’
Sabrina sighed. ‘You keep saying that. Babe, you need to deal with this.’
‘I will, Sab. I have to get my own place sorted first.’
‘So do that. Get on with it. Leaving things like this – it’s no good for anyone.’
That was why I loved her. She’d tell me the truth, even if I didn’t want to hear it.
‘Ah, Sab – but it’s difficult.’
She laid her hand on mine.
‘I know it is, Jan.’
By now I longed to be free to live my own life. But a part of me still clung to Emmanuel. He’d made me feel safe for the first time in my life. It hurt so much to let that feeling go. I summoned up my courage and asked him to help me get a flat from the council. It was as close as I could come to saying the words: It’s over.
When he’d listened, he was silent for a very long time. Finally, he said: ‘When you’ve got a job, Janice. A proper, straight job. Then I’ll help you. Not until.’
But I wasn’t taking no for an answer. I applied for a flat, and was offered one not too far away. I kept the new place secret for months. In the daytime, I’d stop round there – take some small things along to make it homely, start to decorate. But then a wave of sadness would engulf me. This was going to cause Nadia such pain. She loved her father so much – and deep down, so did I. Lying to him was killing me. Every evening, I still wanted to go home where I was safe – just for one more night.
AUGUST 2015
Izzie’s hands were red raw. I noticed it as soon as she walked into the meeting room. She had started to feel terrified of germs and was compulsively washing them again and again. It had been going on for two or three weeks.
The desperate need to wash had come just after she’d got rid of her terror of spiders. Suddenly she’d thought that they were everywhere, down the sink and in the corners, hiding down the cracks in the floorboards. At night she paced her bedsit, too terrified to sleep in case they scuttled out and ran across her face. And just before the terror of spiders, she’d thought her place was bugged. She was convinced that everything she did was being filmed and would be broadcast on the internet. As soon as one dread faded, it was instantly replaced by another. She was caught in an unending spiral of anxiety.
‘I think I know what’s worrying you, baby,’ I said to her.
A talk like this between us could go two ways – she’d be terribly angry and storm off, or she’d listen.
‘You keep on telling yourself that you’re okay,’ I continued. ‘But really – you know that isn’t true. Your inner self, your real self – it knows better.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You need to face reality. You’re trying to believe your own lies. And other people’s lies as well. The longer you go on like this – hanging out with these guys, taking heroin, doing what you do – the louder your inner voice will shout. You can’t suppress your feelings like that. The longer you try to, the more afraid you’ll feel.’
She hadn’t argued yet.
‘The truth is – you’re killing your future. Your ambitions, your dreams. All the things you wanted to be when you were a little girl. All those things are dying, and it’s drugs that are killing them.’
She was listening. The process was slow, but I could see her getting stronger. And she was helping me grow stronger too. She took me to a different level in the way I interacted, not only with her but with everyone. I saw what she was capable of, and through this, I saw what I could also do.
‘Izzie,’ I said to her, ‘I’ve been there, and I know. The closer you come to reality, the less afraid you’ll be.’
MARCH 1984
‘I heard you’re doing business,’ said Gill’s voice down the phone.
We’d lost touch for a while after Lucy and I had fallen out. It was good to hear her rapid, throaty growl.
‘Where did you hear that?’
‘Aw, c’mon, Jan. I’m on the road, for God’s sake. I hear things. Got any time to meet up and chat?’
‘About what?’
‘About your business, of course.’
It was great seeing Gill again. She still smoked her fat spliffs and we chatted non-stop until late into the evening. She’d been making money doing mule work – drug runs through Heathrow, travelling to the Caribbean and smuggling back parcels. I told her she was out of her mind to be taking risks like that. People do all sorts of craziness – they swallow packages of drugs to get them through customs, then the package bursts in flight. They wrap coke in condoms and clingfilm and push it into the cavities of their body. It’s messy and it’s dangerous – you’re dicing with death.
‘You have got to be mad,’ I said. ‘That’s playing with your life, girl. You can’t be that desperate.’
‘I hear you, Jan. Anyway, something better just came up. One of the young dons from north has an operation. The money sounds good so I’m taking the chance. Would you like to meet the link? He’s a serious guy.’
I laughed.
‘Yeah. I suppose so. Gill – you’re sure he’s alright?’
‘Jan – he’s safe. How ’bout Tuesday night? I’ll introduce you. His name is Scully.’
‘Hello, Janice.’
He sat behind a desk piled with paperwork – a chill-looking Jamaican guy, mid-forties, softly spoken, dressed in ordinary working clothes. He ran a busy and successful scaffolding company – a front for his drugs operation – in Stockwell, south London.
He don’t look like no big man. He don’t move like no big man. But there’s something about him. Why did I feel that stir in my belly?
I looked at Scully and I knew. This man is powerful. I can smell it. This man is used to bein’ in control.
My life was going to change. My future would be different now that we had met.
‘So – young lady. I heard you’re looking for work?’ he asked me.
‘Yes. But nothing major for now. Just an ounce. What price are you offering?’
‘Fourteen hundred.’
‘Okay. I’m good with that. But I don’t have all the cash at the moment. I can leave you my Omega watch.’
He sat back in his chair. His gaze never left my face.
‘I see.’ He looked thoughtful. ‘Okay. I’d be cool with your watch.’
From the corner of my eye, I saw Gill. She was half-smiling.
‘Give me a couple of days,’ I said, ‘and I’ll call you.’
‘No problem, young lady. When you’re ready.’
&
nbsp; I took off my watch. He held out his hand. I dropped its heavy gold links into his palm. The metal was still warm from its contact with my skin. Scully smiled.
‘It’s good to do business with you, Mama J,’ he said.
My new flat was looking more like home. I’d paid a few working visits to Oxford Street. Each time, I picked up something new, then on my way home to Thornton Heath, I’d drop off the latest addition. I stayed the night a few times, just to settle in. I told Emmanuel I’d been out with friends and slept over.
‘That’s okay, babe,’ was all he replied. I’d no idea at all if he believed me. Next morning, he’d always get Nadia ready for school.
One afternoon, as I was walking to my flat, a familiar black Mercedes came round the corner up ahead – the High Commission car. The pavement was empty – there was no place to duck down and hide. Emmanuel pulled over and wound his window down. If he was surprised to see me there, he didn’t show it.
‘Hey babe.’
‘Hey honey.’
Then there was a pause.
‘What you up to round these parts?’ I asked him.
‘Just had to drop some top fellow off in Clapham.’
‘I’ve been round Gill’s new place,’ I offered.
‘That’s cool, babe.’ There was no way to tell what he was thinking. ‘Take care. I’ll see you later.’
When he got home that evening, all he said was, ‘Janice, let’s talk.’
‘Okay.’
As I told him about the flat, I felt a sense of relief. He didn’t ask me many questions. It was over between us. What would be the point?
‘I’d like to see your new place, babe. ’Specially Nadia’s room. I’m sure you’ve done a good job.’
‘I’ll be staying over sometimes, just to get used to it. You okay with that?’
Ordinary words, but such terrible finality. At least he didn’t argue, or make our parting any harder than it already was.
‘That’s fine, babe,’ he said. ‘Take your time. Let me know if you want some help moving.’
‘So Daddy won’t live here?’ said Nadia when I took her along to show her our new home.
I’d explained very gently how both of us still loved her, and that even though we wouldn’t be together any more, she could see Emmanuel as often as she wanted. But I knew that it hadn’t seemed quite real to her. Now that she was looking round the flat, she began to take it in.
‘No, baby. Mummy and Daddy don’t live together anymore. But he will often come to see you, and you can go and stay with him.’
‘But I want Daddy! I want him to live here too!’
I felt my eyes begin to sting. More than anything, I wanted what was happening to her not to be painful. But it was.
‘Nadia – honey – I told you –’
She was only four years old. She loved her daddy, and she didn’t understand. Knowing I had hurt her was a horrible feeling, like rocks in my throat. I kept swallowing and swallowing, trying to make the lump go away. Nadia started to cry, and now tears filled my eyes too.
‘I want Daddy! I want Daddy!’ Suddenly she turned on me, furious. ‘Why did you make my daddy go away?’
A couple of weeks later, I drove Nadia round to her daddy’s for an overnight visit. As I drew up outside the house, Emmanuel was standing by the door waiting for her. He walked down the path as I drew up at the kerb, and reached across to open the back door.
‘Hello, sweetie!’ Emmanuel called to her.
As Nadia scrambled out of the car, something on the floor caught her eye. She leaned forward. I thought she must have dropped one of her toys.
‘Look, Mummy,’ she said. ‘Auntie Gill dropped her weed!’
Emmanuel froze.
Nadia picked up a little plastic bag from the floor. In the bag was a big bud of weed. How did she know what it was? I’d never told her anything about it. I hastily held out my hand.
‘Pass it to me, baby.’
Nadia jumped happily into Emmanuel’s arms. As he scooped her up and hugged her, he looked down at me over her shoulder. Disgust was written all over his face. I had to wait two days before he knocked on my front door.
‘How did she know, Janice? How did she know what it was?’
‘I don’t know, Em.’
‘What do you mean, you don’t know? What has she seen? What has she heard?’
Nadia was often in the back of the car. She heard me chatting with my visitors and friends. I’d thought she wasn’t listening because she was playing or reading or singing to herself, but Nadia was listening, alright. She was a smart, observant little girl. She understood everything that people said around her. I should have known. I realised I had been very careless.
‘Em, look, I’m sorry. I’ve not dealt with this too well.’
‘Not dealt with this too well! Is that how you put it?’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘You keep on saying that! But it’s too late to be sorry.’
I knew how much he loved our daughter. Arguing with him would only make things worse.
‘I told you I didn’t want to lose another woman!’ Emmanuel cried.
‘I remember.’
‘Well, I have.’ He shook his head slowly, disbelievingly. ‘I’ve lost you – the very same way. And lost my baby too!’
‘You haven’t lost Nadia. She loves you very much.’
In a voice full of bitterness, he answered: ‘But you’ve got her behaving just like you.’
His words slapped me in the face. Our love had once been strong. Now he meant to kill what was left of it.
‘I thought I could keep you away from the wolves,’ he whispered. ‘I really tried to do it. But you can’t be kept away. And do you know why? It’s because you are one of them.’
The break-up took its toll. Although she loved to visit him, Nadia was constantly asking for her father. I decided that we should have a holiday. I bought an all-expenses-paid trip to Jamaica for us both.
I wanted Pepper to come with us. She was stressed out, and desperately needed a break. Scorcher had only just come out of prison, but already he was back to his game of cheating. His latest woman was hanging around. Yet again, I wished that Pepper could find the courage to end all this. But I knew how hard it was. She loved this bastard. He didn’t deserve her.
‘Pep – come with me,’ I urged her. ‘I’m sure your mum will have the kids – she knows you need a break. You seriously should take time out.’
‘Nah. I can’t. There’s too much going on.’
The night before we left for our trip, with our suitcases packed and standing by the door, I phoned her again. I felt uneasy and I didn’t know why.
‘Pep – I think you should come with us.’
I heard a sad little smile in her voice as she answered.
‘I love you, JanJan. I can’t come this time. See you when you get back.’
I sat on my balcony at the Pegasus Hotel in Kingston. Inside our room, Nadia was sleeping. It had been a good day – and the Caribbean sun always lifted my spirits. Now it had set, and the outline of the mountains could barely be seen against the darkening sky.
I heard Nadia wake up with a cry. I went inside to comfort her.
‘Mummy! Mummy!’ She was sitting up in bed sobbing.
‘It’s okay, baby, it’s okay.’
‘I dreamt about Auntie Pepper!’
‘Did you, baby?’
‘I dreamt that she was lying in a bed with loads of wires. She said to the doctor, “I’m not dead” but then I looked at her again and her eyes were closed.’
The room was in half-darkness. I was glad that Nadia couldn’t see the expression on my face.
‘Nadia, baby.’ I tried to soothe myself as much as her. ‘Sweetie, it’s okay. It was only a dream.’
I kissed her and stroked her hair until she fell back to sleep. But I couldn’t settle down. I didn’t understand how a little girl’s nightmare could frighten me so much. I decided to ring London. But in Peppe
r’s house, the phone rang and rang. Unusual for her not to be at home. I began to pace the room, telling myself that I was overreacting, imagining things. Nothing helped. In the end, I phoned Bagga.
He picked up in one ring.
‘Janice? You need to come home,’ was all he said. My heart began to pound.
‘Why? Bagga – what happened?’
‘There’s been an accident. Pepper’s in hospital.’
As early as I could the next morning, I went to change our flights. It seemed forever before we landed back in London. There was the hassle of getting through customs with a tired little girl. Bagga was waiting to meet us outside. As he drove us away, I asked him which hospital Pepper was in.
His face was rigid in the rear-view mirror.
‘Bags? Can we just go straight there?’
‘Jan.’ His voice was flat and strange. ‘Jan – I couldn’t tell you while you were still out there. I knew it would be bad when you heard. Pepper’s dead.’
Nadia burst out crying. I tried my best to comfort her. I couldn’t ask what happened. I was numb.
We made our way to Pepper’s parents’ house, and her dad came to the door. He almost collapsed into my arms. From inside I heard her mother’s voice: ‘Who’s there? Who is it?’ She stumbled towards me down the hall, then started sobbing loudly and pounding at my body with her fists.
‘Why did you leave her? If you’d not left her –’
‘What happened?’ I asked.
Pepper’s dad answered in a dull, flat voice.
‘My daughter was murdered.’
I could barely take it in. The story was that Scorcher was out of jail, and up to his old cheating tricks. But this time, the woman was hot-headed, and furiously jealous of his wife. She’d tracked Pepper down while she was working up West. She’d made an awful scene, screaming and shouting hysterical abuse, telling Pepper that her husband didn’t want her and was going to leave for good.
I knew at once how horrified Pepper would have been. She wouldn’t want to deal with her husband’s raging girlfriend. And raised voices and attention were disastrous for business. She’d tried to walk away up a side street. The woman followed her, and stabbed her with a pair of scissors. Pepper died in a pool of her own blood on a West End pavement.
