Brixton Bwoy

by Rocky Carr

  In one of these empty offices he found a woman’s handbag, and when he opened it his heart skipped a beat. Inside the bag was nestled a large pay packet. Tee snatched it out, along with a purse and some gold jewellery. There was time to search for more, but he knew he had a touch, so he turned to leave. As he opened the door, he saw a man and a woman sitting at their desks. His mind racing, Tee crept silently out. Instead of walking normally, he went slowly backwards, so when some change tinkled in his pocket and the people turned round, it looked as if he was just walking into the offices.

  ‘Can we help you, sir?’ the woman asked.

  Tee smiled to himself because his trick had worked. ‘I’m looking for a job as an office cleaner,’ he said in his best voice.

  ‘Sorry, we have our own office cleaners. There are no jobs here, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Thank you anyway, madam.’ Tee smiled and left. Outside, he hailed a taxi and told the driver to take him to Walworth Road where he was soon shopping for shoes and clothes.

  ‘Just got paid, sir?’ a shop assistant asked. ‘Can’t be a better day to treat yourself.’

  Tee laughed as he handed over some money. The assistant thought he was laughing at his silly joke, but Tee was in fact laughing because he saw the name on the pay packet.

  That night when Tee got home to sister Pearl’s, Girlie was in bed and glad to see him. Tee had a bath and then climbed in with Girlie, and they loved the dark hours away until they fell into a deep sleep.

  From then on, Tee devoted himself to creeping. Sometimes he found he had taken cheque-books and cheque cards on his rounds, and he sold these for a bit of money to the kiters who knew how to use them. It was a girl named Melissa who showed him there was more to be made from these finds than he had realised.

  Melissa had heard Tee had cheque-books and cards for sale.

  ‘I need a cheque-book and card fast to do some work,’ she told him. ‘Things are awful at home and I left my son to come and search for one.’

  Now it just happened that Tee could help. They were standing on the Front Line, outside a cab shop. Tee asked her to come inside and when they were safely behind the doors, he took a Midland cheque-book and card out of his pocket.

  ‘Is this what you need?’ he asked.

  ‘Yeah, man,’ she answered, her face lighting up like a Christmas tree. ‘Let me see.’ She muttered that the card needed cleaning. ‘Come on, we’ll go to my place,’ she said.

  They made their way to a big house on Clapham Common North Side, and went up to Melissa’s one-bedroom flat on the top floor. Melissa told the baby-sitter, who was looking after her son, to hold tight for a bit longer if she wanted to get a treat.

  Melissa and Tee went into the bathroom to clean the card. She had a tin of brake fluid and some nail-polish remover and she mixed the two together and placed the card, bearing the signature of the real owner, into the liquid. She left it to soak while they shared a joint Tee had rolled, and when they had finished it they looked into the saucer. The mixture had completely lifted the signature from the card. Melissa wasted no time in replacing it with one in her own handwriting and within an hour they were shopping in Croydon. With the newly signed card, she could draw fifty pounds a cheque from each bank and she did just that. Tee bought a suit, a pair of shoes and an overcoat, and Melissa got herself and her son the food and clothes they needed. They had spent almost £200 between them. On the way home they stopped at an off-licence and used the money that was left to buy drink, some of which Melissa could sell later.

  By the time they returned to the flat in Clapham, Tee had learned a useful lesson. If Melissa could do cheque-book fraud, then so could he. Within days, he was pulling in more money than ever.

  That summer Girlie told Tee she was going to have his baby. He was happier than he had ever been. They had put their names on the list for council flats and it seemed that for the first time since he was a small boy he would have a proper family and a home of his own. But it also meant Tee would need money for prams, cots, the lot. At the same time, he wanted to get himself a car. Not just any car but one like all the big men on the Front Line drove – something flashy, fast, smooth. So he kept on getting money any way he could, committing more and more and more crimes.

  Sometimes he tried dealing in weed on the Front Line, by buying a ten-pound bag, dividing it into three and selling each one on for ten pounds. But this was slow going, and Tee was soon looking for quicker ways of getting some of the drug money.

  One day while he was hanging about on the Front Line, he heard a man asking where he could get ten ounces of black hash. He was a likely-looking victim, and Tee went straight over and said he could get it. The man looked at him suspiciously, so Tee went around the street borrowing as much money as he could from all his friends and then stood ostentatiously counting all his money, showing the punter he was serious. Eventually, the punter came over. The trap was now set.

  A price of £90 an ounce was agreed, plus an extra £100 that Tee insisted was for his commission – he thought this was a nice touch, as he meant to keep the whole lot. The punter handed over £1,000 and Tee put it in his pocket and walked nonchalantly around the corner. Once out of sight he made a hasty exit, leaving the punter with nothing. It was as simple as that. Later on that evening Tee paid back the friends he had borrowed from, with a little extra, got some weed for himself and then went home. Girlie was in, relaxing, and Roland was there too. ‘I wrote a new song,’ he said. ‘Want to hear it?’

  ‘Sing it, mek me hear no,’ Tee replied.

  When Roland sang his song, Tee said he thought it was great, and that night everyone was happy. It seemed the future could only bring more of the same.

  Another time, Tee played a similar trick, only this time he pretended to be the punter. Carrying a loaded sports bag, he went into a pub well known for drug deals and asked where he could buy ten kilos of Jamaican Sensimilia weed. At first no one took the bait, but then a shifty-looking man came up to Tee while he was having a slash. He checked that there was no one else in the toilets before he said, ‘Me can sell you some weed, but it’s not Sess.’

  ‘No me no want no African weed,’ said Tee, playing hard to get. ‘Me want Sess.’

  ‘Me can take you and show you it still?’

  ‘Me not sure,’ Tee said apparently reluctant, as he sussed him out. The man was clearly desperate to do a deal, and he wouldn’t be any trouble to rip off.

  ‘Yeah, man, it no far get a cab.’

  Tee allowed himself to be persuaded. He found a cab and they drove back to the man’s house, where he asked the driver to wait. The man produced the weed and Tee looked it over and put it in his bag. Then he simply pushed open the front door, walked out into the street, climbed into the cab and drove off. It was as easy as taking candy from kids.

  That night when he got home, loaded with money from selling on the weed, Girlie was as sweet as ever. Her belly was enormous by now. ‘We got a letter from the council,’ she said. ‘All we have to do is collect the key and rent book for our new flat.’

  First thing the next morning they fetched the key and went to look at the flat, which was in the Surrey Docks. This area was frequented by the National Front, but Tee wasn’t worried – all he was interested in was looking after his woman and child. And it was a nice flat, with two bedrooms. They were both looking forward to moving in, but they decided they should wait until the baby was born, as Kellett Road was so near the hospital. Girlie and Tee spent the whole of that night and the next day together.

  Tee had been making serious money over the last few months, what with his drug-dealing and all his other crimes, and even after giving Girlie money for baby things and furniture, he found he still had enough to fulfil one of his greatest dreams – buying a car with enough style to fit his image.

  Luckily enough, just a couple of days earlier he had heard about a Jensen Interceptor for sale. He wasted no time in phoning the owner, who invited him to come and view the car. It was a be
autiful beige vehicle, and when Tee opened the door and sat on the soft white leather seats and smelt the sweet smell it gave off, he knew this was the car. Then he looked up and opened the sun roof. It worked perfectly. The owner showed Tee the lever near the accelerator pedal which you pulled to open the boot, and the catch that released the bonnet.

  Tee got out and looked over the engine. It was clean and new. Then he got back in and turned the key, and it started up crisply on the first attempt. The engine roared when he pressed the accelerator pedal and made the car sound like a real road-hog.

  ‘Want to take it for a spin?’ asked the man.

  ‘Yeah!’ said Tee. There was nothing he wanted more.

  The owner got in and Tee drove the car away from the kerb. It was fast! But it wasn’t until Tee was on a long road and the owner said, ‘Kick the pedal down,’ that he saw how the car shot off like a bullet.

  ‘Wow!’ he said.

  ‘Exactly, son. Drive this car carefully, the kick down is fast.’

  Tee could not hide the fact that he had already fallen in love with the car and the owner could see it clearly.

  When they returned to the house, Tee paid over all the rest of his cash and drove the Jensen away with a smile on his face. When he got to the Front Line, everyone stopped to admire it as he went by. Tee just sat back, at ease, loving the feel and the sound of the classic car. He didn’t have a driving licence or any insurance, but that didn’t matter. Now he was really going places.

  He couldn’t wait to get home to show Girlie, and when he did she was thrilled with the car too. They drove all over Brixton, and finally dropped off some furniture Girlie had bought at their new flat.

  Autumn turned to winter. It was very cold and the snow started falling around the middle of December. The baby was due any day and Girlie’s belly was so big they wondered if she was expecting twins, but Christmas Day came and went, and she was still carrying. Tee spent every moment, day and night, with her, loving her and reassuring her that everything would be all right, while outside the snow covered South London like a thick carpet.

  But one night there was a big dance down at Waterloo town hall. Everyone was set on being there, including Roland, and though Tee didn’t feel like leaving Girlie, she insisted that he go out. Roland and Tee climbed into the Jensen and drove off into the night. It was about one in the morning when they got to the hall. The doormen were old friends, and let them in for free. Inside, a sound system was full on and the dance was swinging. There were blacks, whites, Rasta men, Indians, and all sorts there, all jumping and skanking, drinking and smoking. The smell of weed filled the air. At the end of the smaller hall was the bar where all the big and respected bad men stood with their women, drinking champagne, smoking big joints and snorting coke – men like the great Boy Blue, who was wearing a blue suit with a heavy gold chain around his neck that ended in a wicked-looking large gold scorpion. Boy Blue’s chin rested on his hand and Tee could see all the gold and diamonds on his fingers, one of which permanently pointed straight out. A thin, long scar ran down one side of his face. Beside him was his girl, Jan, a red-skinned half-caste queen, draped in gold and dressed in rude-girl clothes. She made every male in that dancehall jealous, posing, laughing and fussing over her man.

  Tee looked on. He had his Jensen, but he knew he still wasn’t a touch on Boy Blue. He moved on to another section of the dance where he saw all the Rebels with their queens and princesses. Girlie was now on Tee’s mind again, and he walked over to Roland who was smoking a big spliff.

  ‘Wha you ah seh, Pupatee?’ Roland asked.

  ‘You ready, star,’ Tee replied. ‘Ca wha Girlie could ah be giving birth by now.’

  ‘Ah true rude bwoy, come we steps no?’

  ‘Ah no lie,’ he said.

  ‘All right, people, different style, different fashion,’ were the last words they heard from the DJ on the sound system on their way out. They jumped in the Jensen and as they pulled up at Kellett Road, Tee saw the lights were off in Girlie’s room. He felt relieved because she must be asleep, but he had hardly got through the front door when Pearl told him that Girlie’s water had burst and Selena had gone with her in an ambulance to King’s College Hospital.

  In no time at all Tee had followed her, and was with Girlie while she gave birth. It wasn’t an easy job but he did what he could to help, talking and encouraging, and eventually she delivered a beautiful baby. ‘It’s a little girl,’ the midwife called. Girlie held her daughter to her chest and smiled up at him.

  It was December 1977 and London was white with snow, and icy cold. Tee visited Girlie and the baby daily until they were given permission to leave the hospital, and when that day came he picked them up and drove them back to Kellett Road, where Tee’s family all joined in a small celebration. The baby was named Paulette, and everyone loved her straight away. Tee and Girlie also had to take Paulette round to see Girlie’s parents, but Tee didn’t look forward to this, much as he had been longing to show his daughters to his own family. Mr and Mrs Fryer did not like Tee, and had not approved of Girlie taking up with him; they had particularly not approved of her getting pregnant by him. Mr Fryer, Girlie’s stepfather, had even tried to persuade her to have an abortion. (Both Mr and Mrs Fryer were white, for Girlie’s real father, who was black, had run out on the family when she was quite young.) But now that they actually saw the baby, they could not hold back their delight. They cradled Paulette in their arms and cooed over her, and Girlie felt happy to have made peace with them again.

  When everyone had been shown the baby, Tee drove Girlie and Paulette to the new flat in Surrey Docks. He had moved all their gear in while Girlie was still in hospital, so they were able to stay there that night, the first in their new home.

  This was it at last. Tee had a family of his own, and now he had to listen to Girlie’s pleas for him to lead a responsible life and find a job. So he put his Jensen away in a garage and bought himself an old mashed-up Cortina – an honest car for an honest man – and started asking around about work. It wasn’t easy, for Tee did not have much to offer, and after a few days he felt very discouraged and almost gave up and got the Jensen back out. But then he met two old friends, Lloydy and Jimmy, who were brothers. They were working together on a building site in the City of London. Their boss had mentioned that he was looking for labourers so they suggested Tee go along and have an interview. He had learned a bit about bricklaying in borstal, which might help. To his delight, the interview went well and he was offered the job, starting the following week.

  Tee turned up on time on the Monday morning. It was a big building site, with several blocks of flats being erected over a large area, and the labourers were divided into teams. Tee was assigned to a black foreman called Alford, and Lloydy and Jimmy were on the same team. Alford turned out to be a good boss, quick with a smile and never demanding more than a man could give. Tee’s first task was to clean up the mess left by the bricklayers, carpenters, plasterers and other skilled workers in one of the flats which was nearly finished so that the electricians could come in and wire up.

  ‘Huh,’ he thought to himself, ‘bad bwoy Tee become a rubbisher sweeper!’ But then he remembered his loving Girlie and his beautiful daughter Paulette, and got on with the job. He worked his way through the flat, putting his back into it, so that when he got to the final room he was knackered and filthy and drenched with sweat. But when Alford came to inspect, he saw Tee had done a good job. ‘Blood claat, Tee, you do dem good, man!’ he said, and Tee felt as proud as he had ever done pulling off a good touch in a shop or on the earth.

  The work continued through the morning, and when they finally had a rest, Tee decided he needed a joint to relax him. Alford was making himself a roll-up, so Tee borrowed a Rizla and started putting weed and hash in to make a cocktail.

  ‘What you have deh, ganja?’ Alford asked. He came over and looked for himself. ‘Blood claat, ah good weed you have man, you ah sell any?’

  ‘How much you
want?’ Tee asked reluctantly.

  ‘Me will take ah twenty pound draw off you till then?’

  Tee stopped to consider this, but Alford went on at him. ‘Come on, Tee man. Oh God, man, and de weed look so good!’

  Tee took out a bookie paper which he used to store small amounts of weed, and gave it to Alford without a word.

  The next day when Tee turned up for work, his job was to bring plasterboards down from one lot of flats to another.

  ‘Plasterboard,’ he said, glumly, knowing how heavy they were.

  ‘Ah easy job, man,’ Alford assured him. ‘You just put dem pon de dumper truck, and tie dem down and take you time, drive dem over.’

  ‘Oh dat sound better.’

  ‘When you reach over de new flats some other men will be there to take dem off and take dem in de flat, ah easy work, man.’

  So Tee spent that day carrying down the plasterboards and driving the dumper truck, and at the end of the day, he cleaned himself up and went home to Girlie and Paulette in their little flat in Surrey Docks.

  On other days, Tee worked with the floor-layer, filling up the wheelbarrow with mixed concrete and taking it to him, or he carried the hod for the brickies, or did other labouring jobs. He was grateful for his size and strength.

  Since Alford had bought the weed from him, other workers started asking for some, and these sales supplemented Tee’s wages, which came to about £120 a week.

  But it was not an easy life. Tee missed his old freedoms, and Girlie did, too. She was a poor cook and a worse housekeeper, and as the dust built up, the flat grew dirtier and dirtier. Girlie felt trapped and lonely. If this was life with a kid, she said, she certainly wasn’t going to have any more, and she put herself on the pill. She was very excited about these pills, as if they were something addictive. She also grew very skinny, but still maintained her beauty.