The Dirty South Read online

  Priscilla picked up the money from the ground, put it inside her handbag and chose not to reply.

  We went back to the ride and I realised why I just had to be around someone like Noel. He was unpredictable, spontaneous and crazy. All the things I wasn’t. I could see why Priscilla didn’t give a fuck about Noel’s floozies… She must have assured herself that at least she’s the only one who gets to sit in his ride and as far as I knew she was. I had yet to see Noel be polite to any girl but they wanted to be with him, wanted to be around. None of these chicks were in Akeisha’s class but I guess there wasn’t no other bitch in her class.

  ‘Why did you come up with the “Nathan is gay” chanting shit?’ I asked Noel.

  Keeping his eyes on the road, Noel replied, ‘My mum has this saying. The squeakiest hinge gets the oil. Capish?’

  ‘Yeah, I comprehend,’ I nodded, thinking that despite Noel’s ghetto mentality there was something poetic about him.

  Noel dropped me off outside my gates when my mobile rang. It was Akeisha. She hardly ever called me, it was always me calling her. I felt my heart thump as I answered my phone.

  ‘Hello, Akeisha. Didn’t expect you to call me at this time of night.’

  ‘I was thinking about your proposal,’ she said. ‘And I re-read your long letter.’

  ‘Oh yeah. Have you changed your mind?’

  ‘Sort of.’

  ‘What you mean, sort of?’

  ‘I think dinner is a good idea. Did you really mean a proper restaurant? No hot chicken takeaway on Bricky High Street?’

  Was this happening? Did she just say that?

  ‘Of course I meant a proper restaurant! You sure about this? You’re not playing me?’

  ‘I wouldn’t do that, Dennis.’

  ‘So Scoffers it is.’

  ‘Where is it?’ Akeisha asked.

  ‘Eccles Road that is just off Battersea Rise. A number 35 or 37 drops you right outside. You see, Akeisha, I’m a brother that can take a girl places. So what in the letter changed your mind?’

  ‘That bit about your parents. It was sweet. Also, I kinda got used to chatting to you every night on the phone so chatting over dinner is not too different to that. Besides, I want to see you again. You’ve learned your lesson.’

  ‘You really want to see me again?’

  ‘As long as you don’t get carried away the minute you see me.’

  ‘I won’t, Akeisha. Trust me!’

  ‘It’s alright, I trust you.’

  ‘Valentine’s Day is on the Wednesday, shall we go for our munchies on the Friday?’

  ‘Yeah, a good idea. But, Dennis, I’m paying half.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it, I’ve got it covered. You don’t have to do that.’

  ‘No, Dennis, I can pay my way.’

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure. What time you gonna pick me up?’

  ‘About seven.’

  ‘Oh and make sure you shave off your stubble.’

  ‘What’s wrong with my stubble?’

  ‘Too prickly. I like a smooth man.’

  ‘But you’ve never… OK, it’s definitely coming off. It’ll be smooth like a Harrods chocolate mousse.’

  ‘Your training has started well!’

  ‘You know I’m on you in a big way, Akeisha. I would even do that Jewish shit if you asked me to. You know, the snip thing. They say it’s cleaner, all hygienic and shit.’

  ‘That won’t be necessary, Dennis.’

  ‘I’m really looking forward to this, Akeisha. I’m gonna show you I can be a gentleman.’

  ‘I’m looking forward to it too, Dennis, but bring yourself, not the gentleman… I’ll see you Friday. Don’t be late.’

  ‘Bye.’

  She ended the call. Was she kidding? Don’t be late? I’ll probably be two hours early.

  I entered my house with a bounce in my step and as I bounded up the stairs I met Davinia on the landing. She had come out of her room and was on the way to the toilet. ‘Evening, baby sis. How was your day? Good I hope.’

  I then bear-hugged Davinia and wouldn’t let her go until I gave her a noisy sort of kiss upon the forehead. She kicked me twice in the leg but I simply didn’t care. After I let her go she looked at me like I was crazy and then she said, ‘Akeisha agreed to go out with you then? This is all good, it’ll cheer you up. Might make you stop moping around the house feeling sorry for yourself. We was getting worried.’

  Burn Davinia! Too damn clever for her own good.

  My head hit the pillow that night with a satisfied sigh. Then I thought I’ll have to get her a present. Something to remember me by. Yeah, a Valentine’s Day gift that she’ll never forget. There was no way I could return her wooden bracelet to her after all this time but maybe I could buy some kinda replacement… Yeah, something for her wrist. A gold bracelet. Yeah, no High Street, nine carat, white trash black single-mother ghetto shit. The proper bling. Sixteen carat gold from Hatton Garden has to go on Akeisha’s wrist. Or maybe even twenty-four. No other shit will do. I’ll ask Everton if I can have Friday afternoon off so I can go up West and buy it. Everton was good like that, as long as I put in the hours later on in the week. He was now paying me nearly eight notes an hour and wanted me to go to college. I said I’d think about it. But damn! I can’t wait to see the look on Akeisha’s face when she sees what I’m gonna get her. She might even kiss me for it.

  Chapter Forteen

  THE DATE

  I was seriously thinking of wearing a suit for my date with Akeisha but Davinia talked me out of it. She reckoned that I would look too desperate to impress. I thought about it and she weren’t wrong. So I wore a pair of black shoes, blue slacks, cream-coloured shirt and my black leather jacket. Earlier, I received a neat trim from my barber at his salon in Lavender Hill and when I looked into my bedroom mirror before I left my gates, I reckoned I looked wokable enough even for daughters of BNP members to shout an interest.

  Calling for Akeisha at 6 40 p.m., I made sure I had my gift safely tucked away in the inside pocket of my leather jacket. The sixteen carat gold bracelet was inside one of the cutest little velvety boxes I had ever seen. It cost me over nine hundred pounds in a jeweller’s off Chancery Lane where you had to have proof of ID before they allowed you inside the shop. All eyes were on me as I browsed around looking for what I wanted and I’m sure they thought I was scouting the place for a possible grab and run. Anyway, the stush assistants behind the counter were happy enough when I finally paid cash. I could easily afford it. I was making two hundred notes, sometimes three hundred notes a week shotting on top of what I was earning from Everton.

  Wearing black slacks, a black crew-neck sweater and a light-brown suede jacket, Akeisha looked a dream. As I was checking her out she caught me unawares by kissing me on the cheek. ‘Hi, Dennis,’ she said. ‘Good to see you after so long. You look well! Very smart. And you got rid of your stubble! You don’t have to do everything I say.’

  I wanted to say that if she asked me to clean a ghetto sewage drain with a fucked-up toothbrush, I would gladly do it. But I checked myself, remembering Davinia’s don’t try to impress too much shit.

  Akeisha explained that her mother, Myrna, was out visiting relatives with Curtis so we had the evening and the night to ourselves. I tried not to think about the possibility of sex. For a moment I wished I’d proposed that I’d bring a bottle of champagne around while she cooked something. The black settee looked so like it was ready for rampant sex. It was comfy and long enough to neatly fit us both. Her legs would look so good if they dangled over the armrest. Damn! Can’t think about that. Remember, you’re a gentleman, not a perv… Focus, Dennis. Concentrate. Rid the image of a naked Akeisha laying on the settee saying, ‘Come here, big boy.’ I had to shake my head.

  As we stepped out I felt like a road-sweeper going to a film premiere with Angelina Jolie… Of course I insisted on a cab. No fucking 37 or 35 bus for my queen.

  Mum and Paps dined at Sco
ffers for their wedding anniversary last year and Paps said that Mum never complained once about the food, wine and most of all, the service. The place had to be good and to be honest I had fuck all experience of anywhere else save the spicy chicken takeaway in Bricky High Street.

  We sat around a candlelit table with a neat white cloth and as Akeisha was sampling her meal of lamb, baby potatoes, mint sauce and veg, I was staring at the candle reflection in her eyes. I was seriously overawed. If Noel had witnessed this he would’ve slapped me on the back of the head and told me to stop going on like a pussy… But I couldn’t help it. We didn’t speak much while eating our dinner, I think we both felt a little awkward seeing one another again after a break but her little smiles and glances gave me confidence.

  It was when our dessert of rich chocolate sponge and ice cream was served that I decided to present my gift. Earlier, I had tried to wrap it up with last Christmas’s wrapping paper but after about ten attempts and my bin overflowing with paper, Davinia decided to help me out. No need to say she done a wicked job. She even tied a cute red bow around it. If Noel saw it he would have gave me a right hook and booted my balls from Bricky to Brick Lane.

  ‘My Valentine’s Day gift,’ I said, all proud like. Other diners turned around to look at us and they smiled. I bet they wouldn’t have smiled if they knew I was a shotta. Burn them.

  Before she accepted it she gave me a cautious look. I’m sure she was about to protest but she checked herself, looked around and instead offered me a sweet smile… As she unwrapped my present I never blinked. I felt all good. She opened the velvet box and there it was, the gold bracelet, all nine hundred and ninety pound’s worth. It wasn’t chunky or blingy, like what ghetto people normally wear, but lady-like and elegant. The candle light glinted off the surface of the bracelet and onto Akeisha’s face. For a moment, she held it within her hands, not quite believing what I had given her. She then half stood up, leant towards me and kissed me on the mouth. No tongues but on the mouth. She even closed her eyes for a split second. I wanted so much to sample her right then but I had to keep control. Mentally, I kicked the settee image of her naked toned legs out of my mind. It wasn’t easy.

  ‘I’m—I’m stunned, Dennis. I really didn’t expect this… Thanks so much, Dennis. I hope it didn’t cost too much? You didn’t spend too much, did you?’

  I don’t think she realised it was sixteen carat. But the look on her face told me that the nine hundred and ninety pounds I had shelled out was worth it.

  ‘And I have something for you, Dennis,’ she said. ‘Only a card though.’

  She went to her handbag and took out an envelope. It was about the size of a DVD case but to think that she went out of her way to buy it especially for me made me feel all tingly-like. She gave me her gift and I saw that it wasn’t sealed. I took out the card in an instant, wanting to see what she had written. To Dennis, the main contender to my heart, perhaps the only contender. I felt like dancing on the table but instead I returned the kiss. She pulled away after ten seconds and tried her bracelet on. I helped her with it, enjoying the smooth skin of her wrist and left hand. I gave her another kiss. It was kinda funny seeing Akeisha get embarrassed.

  ‘It’s funny,’ she said.

  ‘What’s funny?’

  ‘My mum gave me a bracelet when I was a girl. Nothing like this one, it was wooden… Hand-carved.’

  I had to close my eyes for a second. I prayed that my guilt wouldn’t show itself upon my face. Why didn’t she forget about it? As she said, it was only wooden. She’s got something much better now. Burn the wooden thing…

  ‘It was given to her by this rastaman,’ she went on. ‘You might have heard of him, Jah Nelson. He was well known back in the day. He used to go around in his sandals and a walking stick.’

  ‘Yeah, I’ve heard of him,’ I nodded, almost leaping out of my chair… ‘I even know him. He’s a friend of my paps and mum. He was at their wedding. He blessed me when I was a baby!’

  ‘Anyway, my mum was quite a rebel when she was young,’ Akeisha continued, ignoring my name-dropping. ‘She grew locks when she was sixteen years old and she was always out at reggae dances till the morning. My grandparents, being Seventh Day Adventists, couldn’t tolerate that so they kicked her out. On a downer, Mum went to social services and they put her up in a hostel. It was while she was living there when she met Jah Nelson. Not sure of the details but they met on that march to protest about that fire in Deptford that killed nuff youths.’

  ‘Jah Nelson used to come to my house,’ I interrupted Akeisha. ‘He used to give me and my sis lessons about black history and shit. He’s my sort of godfather. Well, after the official church service he blessed me in his own way.’

  I don’t think Akeisha heard my last line because as I looked at her she was in deep thought, perhaps trying to put her memories in order so she could tell her tale… It was so frustrating ’cos I wanted to tell her my Jah Nelson memories… Better not tell her that he scared the fuck out of me with his missing eye.

  ‘It wasn’t a romantic thing with Jah Nelson and my mum, he was so much older than her,’ she went on. ‘But he counselled her, made her feel good, made her feel strong and proud. He carved her the wooden bracelet before he went away. To Africa I think. The day after she put it on for the first time, she met my paps. So Mum always felt that bracelet was special, almost mystical… She gave it to me when I was about eight. She thought it would offer me some kind of protection, some kinda good fortune. I never used to race without it. But I lost it while running at Tooting Bec track. At the time I didn’t even realise it had come off. I was in a right state that day ’cos I know how much it meant to Mum. I didn’t tell her for two days but she noticed in the end. She was well upset. Soon afterwards I had my bad leg injury… Mum put it down to me losing the bracelet. She even went to Tooting Bec track to see if it was still there.’

  While Akeisha was telling this story my insides were spinning with guilt. How could I ever give it back now? She would see me as bad-mind. I wondered how long she would refuse to see me if she ever found out about it.

  ‘Maybe this gold bracelet will give me the same protection and luck as the wooden one,’ Akeisha smiled. ‘It’s beautiful. I hope you didn’t spend too much on it, Dennis.’

  She leaned over and kissed me again on the forehead. This time her lips lingered on my skin and a neat shock of pleasure electrified my whole body. Now wearing her gold bracelet, she ate her chocolate and ice cream with a teaspoon. There is something so sexy about buff women eating ice cream. I watched every bite, every swallow and every gulp. I couldn’t believe she was with me. Why me? What was she doing with me? Why not somebody else who had a better job and better money? Well, maybe not the money, I had nuff P’s.

  We took a cab back to her place. Akeisha insisted that she should pay the fare. We didn’t speak much. She held me by the hand as she led me to her room. It was like a proper zoo. There were cuddly toys all over the place. Tigers, leopards, frogs, bears, panthers, owls, ponies and even a few monkeys. She had a double bed and the animals took up most of the space on it. On one wall there was a poster of Mary J. Blige. On the opposite side was a pin-up of Marvin Gaye. She had three shelves fixed to another wall and they were full of accountancy text books and those self-help books that black women love so much. My mum has loads of them at home and I know they piss Paps off. They were all about finding the inner you and shit like that.

  Beneath the shelves was Akeisha’s computer and desk. Next to her mouse was a pair of those Chinese chiming balls. Mum has a pair and when she gets stressed out she twirls them around in the palm of her right hand. This pisses Paps off too ’cos every time they have an argument in the bedroom, Mum reaches for the Chinese balls.

  Akeisha’s video collection, piled up on her dressing table, was your normal American black coming-of-age shit like House Party 1 and House Party 2. But her musical tastes were different to any other chick I knew. She had shit by Cab Calloway, Duke Ellin
gton, Bessie Smith, Mahalia Jackson, Aretha Franklin, Ray Charles, Gladys Knight and Sam Cooke. My mum would sing that kind of thing on a Sunday morning while boiling the red kidney beans and it fucked everybody off.

  Sitting down on the bed, I looked at the photos of Curtis that were all around the rim of her dressing table mirror. I wondered if one day he would call me Daddy… Would I make a good father? I will try not to lecture like Paps but I’ll keep his education and books thing.

  Akeisha took off her suede jacket and placed it in the wardrobe. ‘Do you want a drink, Dennis?’

  Want a drink! Is she crazy? Have a drink and delay making love. Is she kidding me?

  ‘No thanks, Akeisha. That wine in the restaurant oiled me enough and to be honest it’s making me kinda giddy.’

  She smiled then walked over to her mini-stereo. She switched it on and pressed the play button… H-Town started singing a slow jam in that over-the-top way of theirs. Why is this happening to me? I asked myself. She then sat beside me and looked at me square on in such a way to make me uncomfortable. I remembered the groping incident in the kitchen. I placed my hands behind my back.

  ‘Dennis, I’m feeling you but you must be yourself,’ she said. ‘You’re very articulate when you wanna be. You’re witty and clever and sometimes so cynical you make me laugh like crazy!’

  She kissed me on the forehead. ‘And you’re persistent,’ she laughed… ‘My mum thought you was nuts the way you called every day and she saw you waiting outside my gates one morning.’

  I returned the kiss upon her mouth but I still kept my hands to my side. ‘All that got me you though, innit,’ I managed.

  She then placed her hands on my collarbone and smothered my face with kisses. ‘But you gotta learn to transcend Brixton,’ she kinda stuttered between kisses. ‘Transcend the ghetto. You’re not like the rest of them… You don’t have to go on like them with their macho bullshit. You don’t have to be a shotta to prove how much of a man you are. They haven’t got anything else so they trade with their macho bullshit. You’re not like them. You’re different.’