‘Do any of you want to say anything?’ asked Sam.
Ray smiled. ‘Just wanna say I’m glad we didn’t stick with Mr David Oak of The Strolling Rollers fame. Bunny has the touch, you know what I’m saying?’
‘I know what you’re saying,’ smiled Sam, lowering her head, and moving swiftly on. ‘OK, in a way it’s none of our business, we wanted to help you get your foot on the musical ladder, but now that you’re on it, everything’s gone crazy. How do you plan to deal with it, and is there anything that we can do to help you?’
‘The boys haven’t done a thing wrong. They have made a brilliant first album that thousands of people have gone out and bought,’ said Skelly. ‘We want them to keep making good music and not get distracted by what’s going on out there, which is why we are now paying for the legal representation and for the claim against the police for the looting of the shop, and within reason we shall pay for any legal representation the band as a whole may need.’
‘But it has to be said, what’s going on out there is very serious – I mean, murder?’ said Sam.
Marga Man shook his head at Sam and then said, ‘Hey look, sister, yu should know better. Dat murder happened fifteen miles away from where these guys were, these guys were in bed, de police know exactly where we all were, so if yu link dat murder to us, you’re doing exactly what de press are doing.’
‘Yeah,’ said Ray, ‘we are not murderers, we are hip-hop.’
‘And everyone’s talking about east London, west London – the last time I went to west London was like three years ago to see my auntie. We ain’t got no argument with people from west London,’ said Prem.
‘You saw the awards on television, didn’t you?’ Ray asked Sam.
‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘And I know that you were nowhere near the murder.’
Ray continued. ‘Well, you heard what those Western Alliance guys were going on with, you saw it. It was them running up their mouths, anyone could see that.’
‘OK, I understand all that, but where do you go from here?’ asked Sam.
‘We’re just gonna go and make more breaks, we got a Bom album in the making,’ said Ray.
‘And we’re going to support them as they do what they do,’ said Skelly.
‘And I’m just gonna hang easy,’ said Marga Man. ‘De boys gotta stay creative, I gotta stay wid dem.’
‘What I would say,’ said Skelly, ‘is that no one should talk to the press, certainly not without checking with me. There’s good press and there’s bad press, and anyway, soon we want to set up a press conference so that you can set the record straight.’
‘Yeah’, said Ray. ‘A press conference.’
‘Yeah, so we can tell it as it is,’ said Prem.
‘Directly to the people,’ said Tyrone.
‘And one more thing,’ said Skelly, ‘you should do a tour, a nationwide tour.’
Skelly was waiting for big celebrations, but the room fell silent. It was the last thing everyone expected to hear.
Ray whispered, as if he was talking to himself, ‘A nationwide tour.’
‘That’s right,’ said Skelly, ‘a nationwide tour. I got it from the boss, you know, the powers that be. There’s lots of money to be spent on a Positive Negatives tour, and they don’t spend lots of money on tours often.’
‘But,’ Sam said, leaving a pause and then choosing her words carefully, ‘don’t you think that a tour right now may be a bit risky? On the one hand you are saying don’t talk to the press, be cool, lay low, then on the other hand you’re saying get right out there.’
‘I said they should not get distracted, and keep making good music. Basically I’m saying they should still keep working. Going out and doing gigs is just one of the things bands do.’
‘And you think it’s safe?’ Sam added.
‘Well, nothing’s going to be a hundred per cent safe, but the company will make sure that there’s a good team around them and they get tight security.’ Skelly dropped his voice and looked around as if he was going to reveal a secret. ‘I’ve been told no expense spared.’
From deep in thought, Ray smiled. ‘Yeah, a nationwide tour, we can do that.’
Sam looked towards Tyrone. ‘You’re quiet Tyrone, what do you think?’
‘I think we should do it. Hip-hop is our lives.’ He smiled uncharacteristically at her. ‘And who really knows what will happen in the future?’
‘Who knows?’ said Sam, smiling back. She looked towards Prem. ‘And your thoughts?’
‘I wanna do it,’ said Prem.
Ray looked towards Marga Man. ‘You’re not saying much.’
‘I’m not saying much but I’m listening to everyting,’ he replied.
‘So what do you say?’ asked Prem.
‘It’s going to be hard work,’ Marga Man said, still thinking.
‘We know,’ said Ray.
‘It’s not like de one-off you did de other night, you have to be focused, you have to have discipline.’
‘We know,’ said Prem and Ray together.
‘And all dem days and nights on the road together will really test your friendships.’
‘We know,’ said all three.
‘Well,’ said Marga Man, taking up his role as a manager. ‘The conditions must be right and the timing must be right. Remember there’s still plenty of work to do on de new album.’
‘We’ll talk about the deal later,’ said Skelly. ‘The important thing is to keep the momentum up, keep things moving. I think a tour is just what the fans want right now.’
‘Hey, Skelly,’ said Marga Man, nodding his head very slowly and looking very seriously at him, ‘we know dat it may be just what de fans want, but it’s also just what de record company wants.’
The band went back to the studio and Marga Man went back to begin restocking his shop and filling in his insurance claim forms. A couple of weeks later Marga Man received good news and bad news. The bad news was that the solicitor thought that it would be difficult to successfully sue the police and advised him to drop the proceedings, but the good news was that the insurance company were going to pay him a substantial amount. All the boys were still receiving threats on their phones and they continued getting negative media attention, but they kept working. The beats for the new album were soon done and awaiting lyrics and they had begun to practise for their live tour.
When the time had come for them to sign off from the Social Inclusion Project and officially leave school, there were no exams, no ceremony, just another meeting at the headmaster’s office with the mothers. This time the meeting was different. Word of the meeting had reached the press and they gathered outside the school gate. Other pupils at the school were excited and keen to see the local boys turned good and turned bad. As they drove into the school gate in black taxis, photographers put their cameras to the windscreens of the cars, desperate to get a picture of the boys with their parents. Two bodyguards were in a car behind watching carefully. It was more like a visit by the Prime Minister than the rude boys’ farewell, and when the boys and their parents went into the office the bodyguards stood silently on guard outside. Whereas once most people were glad to see the back of the boys, now everyone wanted to get a glimpse of them, even the school office workers.
Inside the office Mr Lang took up his informal position at the front of the desk. The boys and the mothers sat in exactly the same positions as they had on their previous visit, but this time the boys looked a lot more confident.
‘Well, a lot has happened since you were last here. Before I say anything else I want to congratulate you on the success of “Collective Security”. It really is a great piece of work and it deserves the success that it has achieved. My daughter loves it. Suddenly she has gone off grunge and punk, now she wants to get down with the brothers.’
Ray clapped his hands and rubbed them together. ‘I told you that we’re going to be the baddest fucking hip-hop band since Adam and Eve.’
His mother slapped him on the back o
f his head.
‘It’s true,’ said Ray. ‘That’s what I said, and that’s what we are.’
‘You may be good, but that’s no reason to use language like that,’ his mother said in his ear.
Mr Lang looked down at the notes on his desk. ‘Tomorrow is your last day –’
‘It’s not,’ Ray interrupted.
Mr Lang looked down to double check. ‘This school breaks up next week but according to the report I have from Positivity, your time with them ends tomorrow.’
‘Yeah, but what I mean is we’re still gonna be working.’
‘They live in that studio,’ said Mrs Sharma. ‘Day and night they’re in there.’
‘That may not be such a bad thing,’ said Mr Lang.
‘Well, at least I know where he is,’ Mrs Sharma conceded.
‘Hey,’ said Prem, ‘if you think the first album was bad, you wanna hear the second one.’
‘Do you have it with you?’ Mr Lang asked, looking towards the computer.
‘No, it’s not finished yet,’ Prem replied. ‘We just know in advance it’s gonna be bad.’
‘I have no doubt about your ability to produce a good second album.’ Mr Lang cleared his throat as if to signal a change of mood. ‘At this point I should be giving you a talk about your careers and the real world, but your careers have started already, and the real world – well, I suspect that you know quite a bit about that.’
‘They know, all right,’ said Mrs Sharma. ‘It’s nice that they have a bit of success and it’s good to see them earning a bit of money, but this rubbish about fighting and gang wars is no good.’
‘They can’t go anywhere without their bodyguards now,’ said Tyrone’s mother.
‘How did it get to this?’ asked Mr Lang.
Ray started. ‘We don’t really know. We do a gig at the Rex, some guys come looking for trouble, a fight started and a guy got stabbed. Almost died, but he’s all right now. Then there’s this band from west London called the Western Alliance, they do hip-hop and we say, “That’s cool”, then we heard that they start to diss us in public.’
‘Yeah,’ said Prem. ‘We don’t know them you know, we don’t go west London, we don’t say anything about them, and they start to diss us.’
Ray continued, ‘Then when we go to collect our MOBO awards, they start to chat rubbish at us and everybody starts to say there’s a Positive Negatives and Western Alliance rivalry going on.’
‘Hip-hop don’t need rivals,’ said Tyrone calmly, ‘it needs allies.’
‘That’s right,’ said Ray. ‘If you listen to our album we don’t diss other rappers. Anyway, we’re just carrying on doing our work, we even stopped going out, then we hear about this shooting in the West End.’
‘We weren’t even there and we got arrested for it,’ said Prem.
Mr Lang looked at the mothers.
‘It’s true,’ said Ray’s mother. ‘Ray was at home when that happened.’
‘So was Prem,’ said Prem’s mother.
‘And Tyrone,’ said Tyrone’s mother.
Ray began to wave his hands about. ‘Now police are watching us and everyone’s talking about guns on the streets, and east London, west London gang wars, and we’re the ones who are supposed to be leading the east Londoners to war. We got no time for that.’
‘I saw the awards ceremony on television,’ said Mr Lang. ‘I’ve read many of the news reports and I listen to what the kids are saying in school, and I have no reason to doubt what you are saying. Sometimes events just happen, and they happen with you in the middle of them, but even when that happens you really have to try to keep your nose clean.’
‘Yeah, clean noses, that’s what we’re about,’ said Prem.
Mr Lang smiled. ‘Speaking of clean, your reports from Positivity are absolutely glowing, they are fantastic, unbelievable. But I knew that you had it in you. The good thing about Positivity is that the courses can be tailored to you and you really made the most of it.’
‘It has been very good,’ said Mrs Sharma, with the other two mothers nodding in agreement.
‘And do you think it’s been good?’ Mr Lang asked the boys.
‘It’s cool,’ said Tyrone.
‘Yeah, it’s nice, sweet, yu know,’ said Prem.
‘Yeah,’ said Ray, ‘it was a good move. If Marga Man wasn’t so great you could have been our manager.’
‘Marga Man’s doing a great job,’ Mr Lang said. ‘But look, I know you don’t like school …’
‘That’s right,’ Ray said quickly.
‘And I know that you may want to put school behind you, but I just want to say, if there’s anything that I can do for you, please let me know.’
They could all see that he meant it and they all made various silent gestures of acknowledgement.
Tyrone’s mother stood up. ‘Thank you Mr Lang, you have been a great help.’
All this time Ray had been thinking. He had wanted to say something but he didn’t know how to say what he wanted to say without sounding sloppy. When he could see that the meeting was coming to an end, he said it anyway and hoped for the best.
‘Yo Mr Lang. I just wanna say yeah, you’re all right. We didn’t like school, I suppose that was obvious, and speaking for myself I still don’t like school, I was glad when I was excluded, it was freedom. But just because we get excluded doesn’t mean we’re stupid. Anyway, I just wanna say thanks, for us all, for like giving us a chance. Respect, guy.’
‘That’s all right,’ said Mr Lang as he walked to the door to let them out. ‘I wish you all the best. Hopefully all this stuff in the press will blow over and you can get on with finishing another great album.’
As they left the office Mr Lang was once again thanked by the mothers and the boys and just as he was saying his final goodbye, he searched through his pockets nervously.
‘Oh, yes,’ he said, as he located what he was looking for. He quickly pulled a limited edition copy of ‘Collective Security’ from his jacket pocket. ‘Could you sign this for me, please. It’s not for my daughter – it’s for me.’
Chapter 16
The Newham Echo
Local rap artists Positive Negatives went back to school yesterday. For almost a year the controversial Stratford-based rappers had been attending a special unit away from the school after they had all been permanently excluded from formal education. None of the band members was available for interview yesterday, and staff members at the school would not comment on the relevance of the visit, but it is widely believed that the three ex-pupils went to officially collect their leaving certificates. Pupils at the school were kept well away from the group, whose angry rap music has taken them to the top of the charts in recent months and given them international success.
A spokesman from the band’s record company, Deaf Defying Records, told The Newham Echo that ‘The band have done extremely well considering their circumstances. They have used their energy positively and they have a bright future ahead of them. Very few people can claim the success they’ve had when they’ve just turned sixteen. Newham should be proud of them.’ The spokesman refused to comment on the band members’ recent arrests, saying, ‘That was in the past, and they were released without charge. It’s a non-issue.’
Local fans and press from all over the world gathered to get a glimpse of the band, to the amusement of many of the residents nearby. Mrs Winterton, a seventy-one-year-old retired shop assistant, said, ‘I don’t know what all the fuss is about. That school is full of talented kids. I should know, I used to be one.’
Chapter 17
A Woman’s Touch
During a Saturday night rehearsal session at the studio Sam made an appearance. Ray was surprised to see her.
‘Sam, cool, what are you doing here?’ he asked.
‘I thought I’d just pop in to see you and Prem. I haven’t seen this place for a while now and I think we may use it for some other projects in the future. But don’t worry, I’m off duty, and anyway
, you’re free now.’
‘I’m not worried,’ said Ray, ‘everything’s nice. So you come to see me and Prem. What about Tyrone?’
‘Oh, and Tyrone too,’ she added. ‘Good to see you again.’
‘Good to see you too,’ said Tyrone.
‘So is it all right if I stay for a while? I’d like to see you at work,’ said Sam.
Bunny waved his hand over the mixing desk. ‘At your service,’ he smiled. ‘At Rock It Science Studio, we bring musicality to the community, at reasonable rates.’
‘Why don’t you sit down and watch us work out?’ said Tyrone.
‘I will,’ replied Sam. ‘Please carry on.’
Sam watched and listened, then late into the night Marga Man suggested that they all go out for a meal, Bunny and Sam included. Bunny and Tyrone went in Sam’s car, and Prem and Ray went in Marga Man’s. He drove them to a plush Nigerian Restaurant on Green Street where they ate and talked about American hip-hop until one am.
It was a happy, high-spirited gathering that did not go unnoticed by two girls a couple of tables away. The girls, who were a little bit older than the boys, had finished eating, but they found entertainment in watching and listening in on the band’s conversation, using the slow drinking of red wine as cover. When the girls saw Marga Man paying the bill they knew that if they didn’t speak to them soon they would be gone.
‘You go,’ said one to the other.
‘No, you go,’ said the other.
‘You bought the CD.’
‘You saw them first.’
‘OK, let’s just both go together.’
‘OK, let’s go.’
They both went and stood next to the band’s table.
‘Hello, my name is Mallam and this is my friend Yinka. We don’t normally do this and we don’t want to be rude, but could we have your autographs please?’
‘No problem,’ said Ray. ‘You can have anything you want, trust me.’
Mallam had very dark skin and around face, and she wore purple lipstick. She handed a notepad to Prem. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I haven’t got anything else. I write my bits and pieces in there.’
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