‘I haven’t got anything either,’ said Yinka. ‘Only this, you can sign it anywhere.’ She handed a small diary to Ray.
Ray held the diary for a moment and looked at her. The pupils of her eyes were perfectly black and the whites of her eyes perfectly white. Her skin was dark, her face slim with high, gentle cheekbones. Her hair was plaited close to her head in patterns that could have been designed by an award-winning artist.
‘So your name’s Yinka? That’s a great name,’ said Ray as his eyes began to explore the rest of her.
‘I like it too. It’s Nigerian, both my parents come from Nigeria.’
When Prem had signed Mallam’s notebook, he passed it on to Tyrone. It was normal for them to pass around whatever they were signing in this way. But after Ray had scribbled in Yinka’s diary he handed it straight back to her. She took it, looked for his signature but saw no signature, just a phone number. She was silently delighted. She quickly turned the page and handed it to Prem. When the autographs were done, the girls went back to their table. Bunny, Sam, Marga Man and the boys waved goodbye to them and headed out of the restaurant.
Sam volunteered to take Bunny and Tyrone home in her car, and Marga Man took Prem and Ray. As they were on their way to Ray’s house, his phone rang. Ray was in the front of the car. He looked at the screen but did not recognise the number, and, expecting the worst, he said, ‘Yeah, who’s this?’
‘Hi, it’s Yinka.’
Ray’s mood suddenly changed. ‘Yeah, how you going?’
‘I’m fine.’
‘Where you at?’
‘We’ve just left the restaurant. Why did you give me your digits?’ she asked.
‘Because I wanna check you.’ It was difficult, but Ray was trying his best to keep the conversation private. There was a CD playing – he leaned forward and turned up the volume.
‘What’s going down?’ said Marga Man. ‘Let me know.’
‘Everything’s cool,’ said Ray.
‘Who is it?’ asked Prem.
‘An admirer,’ said Ray, putting his thumb over the phone’s mouthpiece.
‘Don’t trust him, I’m your man,’ shouted Prem.
Ray continued the conversation with Yinka. ‘So where you going now?’
‘Home.’
‘How you getting there?’
‘We’re going to the taxi office now.’
‘Which one?’
‘The one at the bottom of Green Street.’
‘Hey, do me a favour. Meet me by Upton Park tube station.’
‘What, now?’
‘Yeah, now.’
‘Can’t do, it’s too late and Mallam’s really tired.’
‘This is about me and you, come on.’
‘Me and you what?’
‘Me and you, come on, I’ll bring you some nice chocolates.’
Yinka laughed down the phone. ‘All right then, how long will you be?’
‘I’ll be there in ten minutes.’
‘OK. If you take longer, I’ll be gone.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll be there.’
‘OK, bye.’
‘Later.’
Marga Man was just turning into Ray’s road when Ray realised where he was. ‘No, spin round, guy, take me to a minicab place.’
‘Are you mad?’ said Marga Man. ‘Where are you going now?’
‘Didn’t you hear?’ said Prem. ‘He’s gonna meet some girl.’
‘Who is it?’ asked Marga Man. ‘I bet you it’s one of those girls from de restaurant.’
‘No,’ said Prem shaking his head, ‘there was no digital exchange. But then again you never know with Ray, he’s quick.’
Marga Man stopped the car. ‘Are you serious?’ he asked, slumping over the steering wheel.
‘Yeah,’ said Ray. ‘Come on, I gotta hurry.’
‘Do you want me to take you?’ asked Marga Man.
‘No, just take me to a minicab office,’ Ray said, and Marga Man did.
‘Ray, just be careful now,’ he said, as Ray was leaving the car. ‘Ring anytime, and don’t forget where you live.’
Ray moved so quickly that within a minute he was out of one car and in another. When he arrived at the underground station Yinka was there. She looked lovely.
‘Where’s your friend?’ said Ray, closing the car door.
‘She’s gone home, I told you she was tired. Why did you want to meet me so soon?’
‘Because I like you. Why did you ring me so soon?’
‘Just curious, and how can you like me so quickly?’
‘It was love at first bite.’
‘Very funny, and what do you want to do now?’
‘Just walk,’ said Ray. ‘By the way, here’s a present.’ He put his hands in his pocket and pulled out a handful of thin chocolate wafers.
‘Very clever. You nicked them from the restaurant.’
‘No I didn’t,’ he said, straight-faced.
She put her hand in her pocket and pulled out more of the same. ‘I got some of my own.’
‘See, you nicked some as well.’
‘No, I didn’t,’ Yinka said, smiling. ‘One of the waiters told me to take as many as I like. He said chocolate suited me.’
They walked down the road towards Stratford. Taking it for granted that Yinka knew all about him, Ray questioned her. She was rather shy at first, not quite believing that she was now walking with the person she had not long before asked for an autograph, but the more they walked the more she opened up. Her parents, both immigrants from Nigeria, were in the import-export business; she was attending college on a business course. She told Ray that she bought the ‘Collective Security’ album after being told by friends that it was full of progressive lyrics. But she wasn’t convinced.
‘It’s a good album,’ she said. ‘But I wouldn’t call it progressive.’
‘So what would you call it?’ asked Ray, disappointed.
‘Well, what you’re doing is sounding off about how bad life is for you, and what a raw deal you’ve had, and how tough you are, and how united your posse is, and that’s OK, your first album can be like that, it’s about letting off steam. But if you do the same thing on your second album and your third one it won’t be long before Positive Negatives fade away into oblivion. You got to find something new to say.’
Ray got thoughtful. ‘Yeah, we’ve been thinking about lyrics for the new album. We got mad beats but the lyrics ain’t flowing, you know what I’m saying? And yeah, we don’t wanna say the same thing over again, I keep telling the others that.’
‘It’s not just about making up lyrics, you have to believe in something. The thing is, you lot are rebellious, but you’re not revolutionaries.’
‘You got some big words there, break it down for me?’ Ray asked, slowing down the walking pace.
‘What I mean is, you are rebels, right?’
‘Yes. Of course.’ Ray stopped walking.
‘That means you rebel, you don’t take on bull, you’re angry with the system and you want to tear it down.’
‘Yeah, well what do you expect? The system stinks.’
Yinka began to point at Ray as she spoke. ‘That’s it, you see, breaking things is not that difficult. Anyone can break things, but when you mash everything up what do you put in its place? The whole world can’t live on rap music, so what’s your alternative? You see, when you have some ideas of your own, that’s revolutionary. True rebels are responsible, true rebels know why they rebel and what they’re rebelling for.’
‘Hey, easy. So you expect me to have all the answers?’
‘No one has all the answers. I don’t have all the answers, but at least I’ve started to think about the questions, and at least I have some principles in place to build my ideas on.’
‘So what are these principles?’ Ray asked.
‘Equality for a start, and justice. Not the way we have it now, where there’s one kind of justice for the rich and another for the poor – real justice. And then th
ere’s knowledge of self, which would mean creating an education system that is not just about teaching you how to be a good worker and an obedient citizen, it would also tap into your true potential.’
Ray shook his head. ‘Heavy shit. You ain’t serious right? Now you sound like the guy who stands outside the tube station selling that anti-everything newspaper.’
Yinka shook her head. ‘You still don’t get it, do you? This is not simply about what you’re against, this is about what you’re for.’
Ray could see that she was very serious. ‘OK, so what’s that gotta do with our music?’
‘Come on, Mr X-Ray-X. Look, if you had a direction you would be writing now, you wouldn’t have a problem coming up with lyrics. If you knew exactly what you stood for, and if you had some vision, you wouldn’t have to struggle to express your ideas.’
They walked for another half an hour and Ray forgot about Yinka’s beauty and became captivated by her mind. In her spare time she studied the history of the world and theology, and she even had her own theory on how everything had started. They walked slowly as if they had nowhere to go, while Ray listened.
‘I have to go now,’ Yinka said, seeing a taxi office. ‘It’s that time of the morning.’
‘But hey, you chat sense, I like the way you drop science. Lyrics me some more.’
‘Yeah, but it’s bedtime.’
‘So, let’s call it night school and be cool, you know what I’m saying?’
Yinka tried unsuccessfully to sound serious. ‘No, I have to go.’
‘I tell you what, come to my place, just for a short time, half hour, twenty minutes.’
‘No.’
‘Oh please.’
‘I have to go home.’
Ray put his hands together as if praying. ‘Now don’t let me have to go down on me hands and knees to beg you.’
Yinka smiled and looked skywards. ‘Where’s your place?’
‘Five minutes away.’
‘So do you live in a house with all your bad boy rebel friends?’
Ray looked around, trying to hide his embarrassment. ‘No, with my parents and my sister, but I’ll be getting my own place soon.’
Yinka laughed. ‘Hey, there’s nothing wrong with living with your parents. I do, I think it’s great. But I suppose it doesn’t fit your tough image.’
‘It ain’t that.’
‘What is it, then?’
‘Nothing,’ said Ray, unable to come up with a convincing response.
‘Let’s be sensible,’ Yinka said, trying to be serious again. ‘You go home to your parents and I’ll go home to mine.’
‘Come on, I’ll get down on my knees and I’ll beg till morning.’
As Ray began to go down, she stopped him. ‘OK, stop. Just for a short while. But what will your parents say?’
‘Yes. Don’t worry about my parents, they’re cool. As long as we don’t make loads of noise they’re safe.’
‘Like I said, I’m not staying long.’
Outside the house Yinka began to rethink. ‘Are you sure about this?’
‘Of course,’ said Ray. ‘Just follow me and things will be good. Trust me, you’re with me so you don’t have to worry about a thing. I’m a big man you know.’ Ray opened the front door and Yinka quietly followed him up to his room. She was amused by the room. She looked around it, smiling.
‘What’s so funny?’ asked Ray.
‘Well, it’s weird, there you are on television, and in the papers, and your face is all over the streets on posters, but your room looks like any schoolboy’s room.’
‘I ain’t a schoolboy any more, I got nuff money in the bank. Soon I gonna get me own place, I may even fly in one of those top interior designers from France to design it for me.’
‘Yeah,’ Yinka replied doubtfully.
‘Yeah,’ Ray said positively. ‘Sit down and give me more of that mind food,’ he said, pointing to the bed.
‘OK,’ she said, sitting on a chair near the CD player. ‘What do you want to talk about?’
‘I dunno, something educational, some of that deep shit.’ He paused. ‘I know, tell me what you want to do in the future?’
‘I’m not sure,’ she replied. ‘I know that I want to go into business, but I’m not sure what kind of business yet. I can remember when my parents were really poor. For ages they were unemployed, then my dad begged a man for a job, but the man said he wouldn’t give him one, and my dad couldn’t believe it because this man was supposed to be a good family friend. Then one day the man came to our house and said to my dad what he would do is give him a loan so that he could start his own business. He said my father had the ability to be independent. My dad had no idea how to run a business but he took the money, did a short business course and studied hard, I mean really hard. He hardly slept, all he did was work on his business plan. He was just so desperate that he didn’t want to miss the opportunity. And he did it, he started an import-export business with my mother, and his first big contract was with the man who gave him the loan in the first place. I don’t really want to go into that kind of business, I want to do something which helps other people to get jobs; I want to do my bit to cut the unemployment figures.’
Ray was deeply impressed. ‘You’re a real shero.’
‘Not really.’
‘What you mean, not really? You’re well conscious.’
‘I’m just trying to do my bit. I really think I should go now,’ Yinka said, standing up.
Ray stood up quickly. ‘Hey, that was quick.’
‘I said I was only staying for a while.’ She stepped towards the door.
Ray moved quickly towards the CD player. ‘You gotta hear this tune,’ he said, putting a CD into the drawer. ‘Tell me what you think of it.’
As the tune began to play, Yinka looked puzzled. ‘The beat’s OK, but where’s the words?’
‘Here are the words,’ Ray said, as he began to improvise a rap around the beauty and intelligence of the girl in front of him. He walked towards her and put his hand on the handle of the door. Yinka was now in between the door and Ray. He ended the rap with a line that implored her to stay, and then he leaned forward to kiss her. Yinka turned away and burst into laughter.
‘You know I like you,’ Ray whispered.
‘Yeah, well I don’t kiss on first dates. I mean this is not even a date, this is just a detour, I’m basically on my way home.’
‘But I like you and I might never see you again.’
Yinka pushed him away gently and folded her arms. ‘So because you might never see me again you want to exchange saliva with me?’
‘No, it’s not like that,’ Ray panicked, ‘what I mean is, you’re nice, right, and I never want to let you go. Yeah that’s right, me and you, I can see it now, house, car, children, holidays and everything.’
Yinka laughed even more. ‘How do you know that I want children? Look, why don’t you just slow down, put your lips back on your face and take one step at the time. You could start by asking me out on a proper date.’
‘Good idea,’ said Ray, as if he had come up with it himself. ‘Will you go out with me on a proper date, I wanna wine and dine you, I wanna tease and please you, I wanna drop phat sophisticated verbals on you and touch your tenderness in the mellowness of the morning?’
‘You what?’
‘I wanna buy you a burger.’
‘OK.’
‘Yes,’ said Ray, strutting around the room.
‘When?’
‘Tonight,’ Ray replied without thinking about it.
‘What, tonight?’
‘Yes, tonight, I can’t waste any time, I wanna marry you before the end of the year.’
She laughed more. ‘Hey, forget the burger.’
Ray went to the other side of the room and just as he was turning off the music his father pushed the door open, knocking Yinka forward.
‘Keep your noise down.’ His father’s words were slurred and the usual smell of alcohol ac
companied him. ‘You may be a big star, but you still have to have respect for others in this house.’
‘Dad, please, give it a rest will you?’ Ray shouted back.
‘Give it a rest? You think you are a big man but you is not. So you start to earn a little money eh, and you feel big eh, well if you are so big pay me some rent boy.’
‘What rent?
‘Rent money, boy, pay your way.’
‘What’s wrong with you?’
His father looked at Yinka and back to Ray. ‘What’s wrong with you, and when have you started bringing girls home?’
‘I’m sorry, I’m going now,’ said Yinka, as she made for the door.
‘Don’t go,’ shouted Ray.
‘No, it’s all right, I’m going.’
‘Don’t. It’s OK, he’s drunk,’ said Ray, pointing at his father.
‘No, I’m late anyway,’ said Yinka hurriedly.
Ray shouted even louder at his father. ‘You see what you’ve done now, you make me sick. You’re just jealous.’
‘All I’m saying to you is to keep your noise down.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Yinka. ‘It’s my fault.’
Yinka left the room and rushed downstairs to the front door. Ray ran after her. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, opening the door for her. ‘So what about tonight?’
‘I’ll call you,’ she said quickly.
‘Will you really?’ asked Ray, doubting her.
She smiled. ‘I’ll call you, I promise. Now go and make peace with your father.’
By the time Ray was back upstairs, his father had returned to his own bedroom. Ray went straight in and turned on the light. His mother and father sat up in bed.
‘Why are you trying to do, show me up?’ Ray shouted.
‘Get out of this room,’ his father shouted back.
‘You’re trying to shame me, innit?’
‘It’s not ’bout me trying to shame you, it’s about you not allowing us to sleep.’
Ray looked at his father with pure hatred. ‘Fuck you.’
His mother shook her head. ‘Ray, you can’t speak to your father like that.’
‘Look how he speaks to me.’
‘OK, I’ll stop speaking, I’ll break your stinking neck,’ his father said, getting out of bed and heading for Ray.
Gangsta Rap Page 14
