by Alex Wheatle
“I’ve made up my mind,” announced Kim.
“Made up your mind on what?” I asked.
“I feel the need for new garms.”
“My pockets aren’t chinking with anything, so good luck on that one,” Nats laughed.
“Gonna need a plan C,” said Kim. “I was thinking about that bruv who tried to chirp me up the other day on Ashburton High Street. He looked like he had some decent change in his wallet. Next time I see him—”
“But he’s gonna want something, Kim,” Nats cut in. “You shoulda told him you’re with me. In fact, why didn’t you tell him you’re with me?”
Kim thought about it. Nats wasn’t laughing anymore. This issue keeps coughing up, and I’m gonna keep my beak sealed on this one or otherwise I’ll be the salami in their crusty roll.
“I’m tired of wearing cheapo shit from Primark and charity shops,” Kim finally broke the silence, ignoring Nats’s question. “And Naoms, when I get some funds, I’ll take you up the scrubbed-up side of town to buy us some decent brands. I could do with some new knee boots.”
Nats glared at Kim, then eye-drilled me.
“And you an’ all, Nats,” Kim quickly corrected herself. “Not gonna delete you out, am I. You’re my girl and you know that.”
“You better not delete me out,” said Nats. She was pissed.
“Nats always goes cadazy if I leave her out of stuff,” said Kim. She laughed nervously. “Dunno what she’s fretting about.”
We stood up, flung our litter into the bin, and stepped outside to the playground. I slurped from my Coke can. Kim was about to take her smokes out of her pocket when suddenly I was licked from behind. I dropped to the ground. It was Cassandra. Who else? She booted me in the ribs twice before Kim realized what was happening.
“You’re not black!” spat Cassandra. Her face was full of issues. “You hear me! You’re not black so don’t try it!”
“Leave her alone!” screamed Kim. She jumped on Cassandra’s back, strangled her with her left arm, and punched her with the other.
Cassandra wasn’t small. She flung Kim to the ground and banged her twice before stomping on her stomach. “You frucking freak! Get your bitching hands off me!”
Before Nats could react she was booted from behind by Yoanna. “You frucking bitch!” The two of them swapped licks and fell to the ground.
I just about managed to find my senses. I took a five-yard run-up and booted Cassandra in the back as hard as I could. Cassandra dropped to her knees. She snapped her head in my direction and let out a mad roar. She rushed toward me with Urban Zombie intent. Sometimes that Wonder Woman spirit leaves your ass and you know it’s time to get your hot-stepper on.
I ran for dear life into the school building. Cassandra hoof-huffed after me but the doorway was blocked by Richard and two other staff members who had seen the mauling from the canteen.
“She bitch-kicked me in the back!” screamed Cassandra. “I’m gonna burst that white bitch! See if I don’t. Frucking white piece of shit! Coming to school thinking she’s black. YOU AIN’T FRUCKING BLACK! You think they can save you all the time? You’re DEAD! D’you frucking hear me! MURKED! I’m gonna carve a second crease in her white ass. See if I don’t.”
My heart biff-boffed like a mad grime bass line. I panted like I had an asthma attack. I didn’t stop fleeing till I came to an empty classroom. I sat in a chair with my face between my knees. I tried to control my breathing. I covered my ears to try to drown out Cassandra’s cursing.
“I’ll frucking get her and her freak friend and Nats the coconut! Frucking bounty, she is! She doesn’t even know she’s got half nigger in her!”
Marie entered the classroom. “You all right, love?”
I looked up. I felt tears in my eyes. “Fruck off, Marie! Stop pretending you care.”
That wasn’t called for.
Marie crossed her arms. “Is that what I get from seeing how you are? I dunno what’s wrong with all of you. All you want to do is kill each other. Sometimes I think we should give you sticks and stones, take you to the hills, and let you get on with it.’
“Marie!” I screamed.
“There’s no need to shout.”
“Then get outta my face!”
Shaking her head, Marie walked backward toward the hallway. “I’ll give you a bit of time, love, to get over this. You don’t look too badly hurt. I’ll be back later to check you over. I’m the first-aider here and I didn’t take that course for nothing.”
I offered Marie one of my best dark-side-of-the-curb glares. Marie shook her head again, turned, and clip-clopped to reception.
I heard Cassandra shrieking and cursing as she was dragged to the safe room. I closed my eyes.
* * *
In my inner vision I could see the medics stepping into our bathroom. They were pulling on their surgical gloves. There was no rush. They were all so very calm. Dad was sort of hugging himself in a corner. Tears were dribbling over his lips.
“You all right, Naoms?” Kim asked gently.
Opening my eyes, I heard Dad’s voice echoing inside my head: God will look after her now. I’ll look after you from now on, angel.
Kim kissed me on the forehead and hugged me. “Come, let’s go for a smoke,” she said. “Don’t worry about Cass. She’s on lockdown. You wanna see the nuclear fallout on Yoanna. Nats frucked her up something chronic. They’ve put Nats in the other safe room. They better let her out soon if they know what’s good for ’em. Nats got a bitch temper when she’s ready, especially if anyone tries to maul me.”
With her arm around my shoulders, Kim walked me to a corner of the playground. We spotted two bruvs smoking rockets in another corner. We met Richard on the way.
“You okay, Naomi? Are you hurt?”
I was too much in a daze to answer.
“She’s all right,” said Kim. “I’ll look after her. You lot took your time coming out, didn’t ya? What’s your game? Wanted us to talk frankly about our issues? Leave us alone. We’ll be on the level soon enough.”
I stared at the ground.
“Maybe Naomi should see Marie,” Richard suggested. “She’s our first-aider.”
“Fruck Marie,” snapped Kim. “I’ll look after her.”
“Maybe Marie can check on her later on?” Richard said in a whisper.
Kim thought about it. “All right. But after I see to her.”
Richard returned to the building. Kim took out her smokes. She fired one up and offered it to me. I accepted. She kissed me again on the cheek and smiled at me. “You’re alive,” she said. “Not too much damage and still breathing. You should’ve seen the state I was in after I had a mauling with my last boyfriend—he didn’t love it that I liked Tarzan and Jane.”
I tried to return the smile. I couldn’t manage it.
“Cass should be locked up,” said Kim. “There aren’t any baked beans in her Full English. Not even any mushrooms. Nobody’s safe when she’s around.”
I took another pull. My throat felt like it was lined with beach stones. I spotted two members of staff scoping us from the canteen window. “I want you to cut it off, Kim,” I said. “Cut it all off!”
“Come again, Naoms?”
“Cut it off! Look how much drama it caused today.”
“Don’t let cadazy Cass put you off. What did I tell you before? Don’t let others tell ya what to do. Don’t play their games, Naoms.” Reaching out to grab a braid, Kim brought it up close to her eyes and sniffed it. “Remind me who done this for ya?”
“My new foster mum, Colleen.”
“How long she take? Five hours? Has any other foster mum spent five hours on your hair?”
“No.”
“Did your dad ever do your hair?”
“Are you being funny? No, I used to cut and wash his.”
“Then you can’t snip it off, Naoms. Quit that malarkey.”
I finally managed a half smile. I pulled on my cancer stick again. Kim placed an arm aroun
d my neck and pulled me toward her. She kissed me on the forehead. I felt like I had a big sister looking after me. “Don’t sabotage your own hair, Naoms. Dunno how long you might keep it but it looks sweet on ya. So fruck ’em all and anybody who sails in that boat.”
We finished our smokes and returned to the lounge. During the next lesson we heard Cassandra being escorted out of the building and taken into a van. She cursed Kim’s, Nats’s, and my name as she went. I wondered what her personal issues were. We all had them. I tried to blank her out but I felt a tight ball of fear in my belly. It was bouncing around and I couldn’t control it.
Midafternoon, I went to the ladies. Nats followed me in. After we done our business, we both washed our hands while staring at ourselves in the mirror above the sinks.
“I swear to God I’d murk anyone who hurts Kim,” Nats said. Her eyes never left the mirror. “Anyone.”
“I get it,” I replied. “You’ll always have Kim’s spine. You messed up Yoanna big-time.”
“Kim might chat like she’s of the curb but she’s not really,” Nats went on. “She’s . . . she’s soft beneath all of that. Vulnerable. She can’t really fight. She doesn’t come from the ends. Her mum’s middle class.”
I wasn’t quite sure what to say. Instead, I nodded.
“After what happened to me, I was gonna put a full stop to my frucked-up life,” Nats said. “Kim saved me from all of that. I owe her everything.”
“I . . . I know.”
She looked at me like she was warning my ass about something. “That’s why I can’t tolerate it if someone hurts her. You understand what I’m saying?”
“Nats,” I answered, “I’m not sure what road you’re going down on this. Kim’s always had my back too. She’s been a good sistren. Why would I even think of hurting her? I’m not Cassandra. You should be raging at her.”
Nats thought about it and then smiled. “You’re right, Naoms . . . sorry, I didn’t mean anything. Just a bit emotional after what happened today. I didn’t love seeing Kim in pain.”
“Me too,” I managed.
Nats dried her hands on paper towels and left. I had to remain in the ladies for a couple more minutes just to allow my heartbeat to get back on the level.
* * *
Colleen arrived to collect me at three thirty p.m. on the bang. I said a quick goodbye to Kim and Nats before climbing into the back. I waited for the longest time as Colleen had a convo with Richard and two other members of staff. I just wanted Colleen to hot-wheel me home.
Instead of getting into the driver’s seat, Colleen joined me in the rear. She closed the door before she spoke. “You all right?” she asked. She placed a palm on my cheek and looked into my eyes.
“Yeah, I’m all right,” I said. “She took me by surprise. Didn’t see her coming. Next time I’ll get the first lick in. She doesn’t scare me, you know. She doesn’t! I’ll do her in next time.”
Truth being told, Cass terrifies the living pulses outta me. Nats scares me a bit too but maybe I’m being a bit para about her. She was upset cos Cass launched an attack on us and she went into protective mode. That’s all.
“You . . . you still want to, er, keep your hairstyle?”
I thought about what Kim said to me earlier. She said I looked pretty-licious in it. And Colleen put in a long shift to do it.
“Yeah, I wanna keep it,” I finally replied.
Colleen smiled and rubbed my cheeks. She then climbed into the driver’s seat. “Don’t you want to join me in the front?”
“No,” I said. “That’s where Sharyna sits.”
I didn’t say too much else on the way to pick up Pablo and Sharyna. They had a calming effect on me and I felt like a big sister again. Pablo showed me a drawing that he had completed of his family. Colleen was sketched with big eyes and electric diversity hair; Tony was drawn with a spade in his hands; Sharyna was looking into a mirror; and I was hugging what looked like a small rat. It slapped a smile on me but for some reason it also made me feel sad inside. This is what a normal fam looks like, Naoms. You’ve never had normal. I ruffled Pablo’s hair.
Starting the dinner once she arrived home, Colleen told me, “Tony will be taking you to school tomorrow. Is that all right?”
“Tony?”
“Yes. You don’t mind?”
“No, I don’t mind,” I said. “Just that I’ll miss you leaking stuff about your school days.”
Colleen smiled. “I have an early doctor’s appointment I have to keep,” she explained. “And I need to shoot off just after I drop off Sharyna and Pablo.”
“It’s cool by me,” I said. “He’s taking me in his truck?”
“Yes. You’re okay? Nothing hurts?”
“I’ve got all the carrots and dumplings in my casserole,” I said. “Kim gave me a look-over and then Marie checked me out.”
“As long as you’re sure.”
“Double sure.”
I took a seat at the kitchen table and watched Colleen grab a bunch of potatoes from the vegetable stand. It reminded me of watching Mum preparing to cook. “What you making?” I asked.
“I seasoned up some chicken thighs this morning,” Colleen said. “I’m going to put them in the oven in a minute. Then I’ll be roasting potatoes and steaming some parsnip and cabbage.”
“Can I peel the potatoes?”
“You don’t want to play with Sharyna or Pablo?”
I didn’t wanna let on to Sharyna and Pablo that I was terrorized by big Cass. That ball of dread was still bouncing around inside my stomach. I felt safe around Colleen. I felt the water behind my eyes but I wouldn’t leak tears in front of her. Never did that in front of Dad or Louise so I wasn’t gonna start now.
“Nah, I play with them later,” I said. “But I’m used to cooking. Used to cook for Dad. Most of the time he didn’t want it or sometimes he would sink it in the morning. Sometimes he’d eat it cold. I had to fight with him to take the plate off him and smack it in the microwave.”
* * *
At bedtime, Colleen checked to see how I was doing. My TV and light were still switched on. The end credits of a low-rated horror movie rolled down the screen. My curtains were open. I had curled up into a ball and was sucking my thumb—Dad said I had got into this habit after Mum died. My meerkat was beside me. Colleen smiled at me. She switched off the TV, drew the curtains, secured the window, and left.
chapter seven
Tony’s Violin Story
Tony wheeled carefully around the Ashburton one-way system. I could sense he wanted to start a convo but didn’t know how to. Dunno why he’s feeling that way. I’m talkable. “Have you got everything you need?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“I hope you’re not worrying about that Cassandra girl. She won’t be there.”
“I’m not fretting. I’m not scared of her.”
“Have you got your packed lunch?”
“I don’t have packed lunches.”
“Have you got mine and Colleen’s number on your mobile?”
“Yeah—have you lost your onions, Tony? You wrote it down for me just before we left the house.”
Tony half grinned. “Of course I did,” he said. “I’m going senile already.”
“What’s senile?” I asked.
“When you forget stuff.”
“I forget stuff,” I said. “I’m not going senile, am I?”
“Not yet, Naomi. It usually afflicts the old.”
“Afix the old?”
Tony shook his head and laughed. Nothing was said for the next few minutes.
“How much money did Colleen give you yesterday?” Tony started again.
“Five pounds,” I replied. “But I need extra funds to buy something for this project.”
“Oh, what project is that?”
“We’re baking something in the kitchen. Need ingredients for a cake. Yeah, we have to put something in to pay for the ingredients.”
With his right hand on the steering
wheel, Tony used his left to pull out a ten-pound note from his jeans pocket. “Here,” he offered.
Monkey on the hoops. This is too easy.
“Thanks,” I said.
Three minutes of silence followed. I felt a slap of guilt hustling ten pounds outta him so I thought I’d ask him about himself. It was the polite thing to do. Louise was forever telling me to take an interest in the peeps who care for me. “What made you wanna mess around with grass, trees, and mud for a job?” I asked. “Sounds grimy and proper boring.”
Tony half smiled. Something hit his sweet spot. “I was raised opposite Crongton Park,” he revealed. “On the south side.”
“You lived in Crongton? Are you sure? You don’t sound like you grew up sucking bottles in those ends. Was you a Crongbanger? Have you seen anybody get murked?”
Tony shook his head. “No, no, no. I didn’t get involved in any of that. My dad would’ve killed me if I did. Crongton’s not all about gangs.”
“My sistren Kim says Crongton’s all about the Gs. Everyone’s armed up to their necks. They sharpen their hounds’ teeth with files.”
Tony gave me a really look. Louise must’ve taught him. He changed the subject. “Whenever I had free time—”
“Free time?” I interrupted.
“Time to do what I wanted,” Tony explained. “My old man was always ordering me and my brothers and sisters to do our chores.”
“What sort of chores?”
“Oh, you might be hoovering all the rooms, cleaning windows, polishing the furniture, clearing up the garden, washing the dishes, mopping the kitchen, taking the clothes to the bagwash. My parents liked to keep a clean house.”
“Bagwash? What’s that?”
“Oh, sorry, the launderette. My mum called it the bagwash.”
“That’s not a life sentence, is it,” I said. “That’s pretty standard. I did all that stuff . . . and more. Sometimes I had to wash out clothes in the bath with soap.”
“I guess no kid likes chores.”
“I’m not a kid and I had no choice,” I raised my voice. “If I didn’t do it, Dad wouldn’t. It always had to be me. If the social were coming, I had to get up at cuckoo o’clock and do it. I wouldn’t put the empty cans or the bottles in the bin. They’d check ’em. I had to dump ’em in a bin around the corner or on the next street.”
