The Dirty South (24 page)

Mum kept crying and Davinia refused to reveal her face. Paps took a step forward and reached for my left hand. He gripped it tight and I maintained eye contact with him. But suddenly the hand he was holding turned into a fist. I wrenched it free and punched the wall behind me. Why Noel and why not me? Mum's wailing got louder and Davinia, unable to take the stress of the situation, about turned and marched off.

‘I'll better go get her,' said Paps.

He hobbled after her and it was only then that I realised he was using his walking stick.

It felt good to have Mum so close to me. I wondered why was it that she only showed her love for me when someone pounded the fuck out of me? I began stroking her hair but she just kept on crying. Of course, she wouldn't let me see her tears… Memories of Noel were filling my brain at rapid speed. I realised that the thing he craved the most was his mother's love. Simple as. I wondered if Cara ever stroked Noel's hair. I wondered how many times did Noel fall asleep in her arms. I'm sure she did love him. In a fucked-up kinda way. But did Noel know that she loved him? I really hope he did. Why Noel and not me?

Mum wiped her face before she turned to me. Even on a day like this she was wearing make-up and her newly-permed hair was now messed up. ‘When we got the call we thought you was dead,' she said in a voice just above a whisper. ‘It was Cara who called us. She was very calm. Almost dream-like. The police had found Noel's car.'

She trailed off. Obviously, describing the discovery of our bodies was too much for her. ‘You have already had two x-rays,' Mum revealed. ‘There is a swelling of your skull at the back of your head and you will have to remain under observation for a while. You've been unconscious for hours. We was frantic with worry because there was concern that you might slip into a coma…'

I wasn't really listening to Mum. My mind just kept on repeating the same question… Why Noel and why not me?

‘The consultant at first thought you had a stress fracture but after the second x-ray he said it was just a swelling. But it has to be monitored.'

I thought Mum felt better talking about my medical condition. I guess it was easier to talk about what the fuck's wrong with me than talk about Noel and what a huge loss we had all suffered. Guilt pressed my next question. ‘How's Cara, Mum?'

She glanced behind her as if she wanted Paps to deal with the question. But he wasn't there. ‘She was bearing up well until she had to identify the body,' Mum answered. ‘I don't think she was taking it all in. I phoned Sharon and Floyd and they are now looking after her and the kids. Cara's mum is on her way down from Thornton Heath too.'

The tears started again and Mum just buried her head into the bed covers. I looked up and saw Paps returning. He was without Davinia.

‘She's getting something to drink,' he said. ‘She's very upset.'

Paps sat on the bed and looked at me. I felt he was trying to read my thoughts.

‘What piece of fucking shit did this to you and Noel, Dennis?' he said. Now his fury was obvious. His words were spoken softly but they were loaded with venom and a hunger for revenge. Would he round up his old bredrens and hunt for Noel's killers and my attackers? ‘Did you recognise who did it?'

For some reason I thought of Akeisha and Courtney Thompson's threat. Then I wondered what would Noel do if he was in my place and I was dead. He would take Thompson out. Simple as. Merk the fake Muslim, no doubt about it. That was Noel.

‘I didn't recognise them, Paps,' I finally answered.

Paps offered me a long hard stare. He knew I was lying. ‘I want you to think about this very hard, Dennis. Noel is dead and you could have died too. Noel needs justice and so do you. Try and think, Dennis. Did you recognise who did this?'

I held Paps' gaze and after a few seconds I shook my head. ‘No, Paps. All I know is there was about seven or eight of them.'

Paps was brewing but he managed to control his anger as he
said, ‘The police will probably question you tomorrow. Maybe before that time something will jog your memory. After all, you have suffered concussion.'

‘Yes, Paps. I'll try and go over what happened.'

Davinia returned drinking from an apple juice carton and Paps stood up. ‘Do you want a hot drink, Carol?' he asked Mum.

Mum nodded, her face still buried in the bed covers. Paps patted me on the shoulder and limped along the hospital corridor. If I can withstand an interrogation from him, I thought, then the Feds will be no worries.

Two hours later, Paps had taken Davinia home but Mum still remained. To be honest she was getting on my nerves a bit. Fussing about is the bed comfortable? Are you hungry? Shall I go home and cook something special? Was I thirsty? Shall I bathe you? Shall I buy a pair of pyjamas? It was a relief to see Akeisha enter the ward and sit on my bed. She kissed me on the left cheek and offered me a huge smile… I glanced at Mum and I could see she was put out a bit.

‘I'm so relieved you're alright,' Akeisha said. ‘Thank God!'

‘He's not out of the woods yet,' Mum interrupted. ‘He has to stay here under observation for a few days yet.'

‘Well, when you come out you can stay with me for a while until you get back on your feet,' Akeisha said.

That last sentence improved my recovery no end but judging by Mum's expression there was no way I could agree to it. ‘Mum's already took time off work to look after me when I come out,' I revealed. ‘I'm sure I'll be alright anyway.'

‘He needs his rest now, Akeisha,' Mum said in her over-polite voice. ‘Needs his sleep.'

‘I'm OK, Mum,' I said.

I began to think that Mum was trying to compensate for all those years when she wasn't home when I arrived back from school. She needn't feel bad 'cos I preferred it that way. When Mum was home all she did was nag my black ass.

Akeisha kissed me again and gave me a hug. I felt good, very good, but Noel won't have that sensation any more. He will never
feel the tingle of Priscilla's lips on his forehead. He will never wake up in Priscilla's arms. He will never… Why Noel and why not me?

With Akeisha's arms around my neck and feeling the warmth of her skin next to mine, I came to a decision. There was no debate in my mind and there was no way I could allow Courtney Thompson to have a threat over me or Akeisha.
Burn
him! No way he's gonna trouble or hurt Akeisha. I won't let it happen… I'll have to merk him, duppy him, simple as. He duppied my bredren and as long as I could remember Paps was telling me not to trust the Feds. They couldn't be trusted. So I ain't gonna tell them shit. Noel hated the Feds so he would have agreed with me.

Granny always used to tell me that when the West Indian cricket team was in their prime, they targeted the captain of the opposing team. If they could humiliate the captain, the team would lose confidence was the idea. Courtney Thompson's the Muslim crew's captain. What did Robert De Niro do when the local mafia don tried to sweat him for P's in
The Godfather 2
? De Niro's character took full responsibility and duppied the white-suited don, simple as. Courtney has to be merked, no doubt about it and the responsibility is mine… When I recover I'm gonna stalk the motherfucker. Find out where he steps, where he prays to his Muslim God, where he chills, where the fuck he buys his crisps, where he shits, where he buys his fucking batty paper. I'm gonna blaze him like a Capleton song. His mother will be shopping at motherfucking Morleys for her black garms shit and she'd better buy a new pair of fucking glasses so she can recognise her pussyhole dog-heart son. Noel would have done the same shit for me. And I ain't saying dog to nobody. Not even Akeisha… It's for her anyway, it'll keep her safe. Nothing's gonna happen to her.
Nothing! Trust!

Next morning two Feds appeared by my bed. One was a woman, the other a guy. It was the guy who came with the notepad and shit. He wasn't that much older than me and he looked a little nervous, chewing his pen and shit. I ain't gonna tell him a fucking dog! He probably lived in somewhere like New Malden. Fuck him and his mum! The woman looked too confident, too assured. She was thirty-something, attractive but businesslike. She grabbed an
extra chair from the hallway and brought it up close. She probably grew up around black people, somewhere like Streatham. Maybe she woked a black brother once in her teenage years but was too ugly to keep him.
Burn
her anyway! I ain't gonna tell her shit.

The other Fed pulled the curtains around my little space. Paps was sitting at the end of the bed. He had his screwface on. His walking stick was propped up against the wall; I noticed he had decorated it in red, gold and green tape. Mum had gone for a walk, she didn't want to hear the
details
of my jacking. The Feds introduced themselves. They were so polite I kinda thought for a minute that my black ass had turned white and I was on a Caribbean Sandals holiday. I thought of that old school
Smile Orange
film that Paps loved so much. The Feds finally got down to business.

‘Did you recognise any of them, Dennis?' the woman asked, her head tilted at an angle.

‘No.'

‘Not even vaguely?'

‘No.'

‘How many were there, Dennis?'

‘About seven or eight.'

‘Were they all black?'

‘Yes.'

There was a pause. Paps was giving one of his suspicious stares to the male Fed. He ignored Paps and carried on writing.

‘Can you tell us what they were wearing?' the female Fed went on.

‘The usual garms. Baggy jeans, sweat tops, name-brand trainers. A couple of them were wearing hoodies but everyone wears them.'

‘Anything distinctive, Dennis?'

‘Three or four were wearing skull caps. They had guns.'

Shit! Didn't mean to reveal that. The Feds looked at one another. The male Fed scribbled furiously in his notepad. Paps stood up and switched big time. ‘What are you gonna do about it?' he yelled. ‘I've heard about this! There are Muslim gangs marauding all over the place in Brixton! Killing people and doing these violent religious conversions! Armed to the fucking teeth!
What the
bloodclaat
you gonna do about it! This ain't the first time! You know it's going on! Outside schools and youth clubs. Dreads in my day didn't go around killing people all because they weren't rastas! They didn't ram their beliefs down people's throats. If we had issues with society or the police we fought them man to man! We didn't kill innocent people in the name of religion. What the
raas
you doing to prevent this fuckery? Or are you too busy trying to catch drivers without MOTs? Is this gonna be another Stephen Lawrence episode? SAME OLD FUCKING BABYLON! SAME OLD FUCKERY!'

The male Fed got even more nervous and I almost laughed to myself. It was good that Paps still had some of that old revolutionary 1981 Brixton uprising shit in his blood… The woman turned to Paps. ‘Please, Mr Huggins. I understand your anger but I want to assure you that we are doing everything in our power.'

I glanced at Paps and he sat down. He looked kinda embarrassed, shame-faced even. The female Fed looked at Paps and satisfied herself that he wasn't gonna have another outburst and carried on. ‘Were your assailants wearing any distinctive jewellery, necklaces or anything of that nature?'

‘Can't remember.'

‘Can you recall if any of your assailants had facial scars?'

‘Can't remember.'

‘In your own time, Dennis, can you tell us what happened?'

‘Me and Noel drove up to Flaxman Road ends 'cos we was about to link with a bredren. We parked at the sports centre and all of a sudden we saw pure man. Two of them had guns. They ordered us out of Noel's ride, jacked us of all our money, our mobiles and shit and then they started pounding Noel. They kept on kicking him. They wouldn't stop. Just kicking. Kicking…I couldn't do anything about it. A gun barrel was pressed to the back of my head. They kept on…Kicking.'

My headache suddenly got worse. I had to close my eyes for a second but that was no escape… Noel's merked body was in my head in full fucking colour. I struggled to get my black ass in control 'cos I didn't want to bawl in front of any motherfucking Fed. ‘Then
they turned on me,' I went on. ‘Simple as. Don't remember nothing else.'

‘What did they take?'

‘Our money, mobiles and stuff. Didn't I tell you that already? They even took my Jamaican football shirt!'

‘Anything else?'

Maybe this Fed bitch knew what was going down with these so-called Muslim crews jacking shottas and shit. But if she thought I was gonna say, yeah, they jacked our weed, then she might as well direct her questions to the moon.

‘Nothing else!' I raised my voice.

The male Fed looked up, his pen all ready-like. He communicated with his eyes something to the bitch Fed that I couldn't read but the questioning only went on for another five minutes. It was only at the end of the interview that I realised Paps was in floods of tears.

They released me from hospital four days later. Mum came to pick me up but I desperately wanted to stay with Akeisha. Not wanting to cause any fuss I didn't say anything… I called Akeisha constantly instead on her mobile. ‘Are you alright? Are you safe? Is there anyone hanging around your gates? Has anyone been following you? Don't step out too late on road. It's too dangerous out there. Don't walk on road alone.'

At home I was treated like a prince. Mum cooked my favourite meals, bought me DVDs, CDs and she had prepared the front room for me. She didn't want to climb the stairs all day to see how I was. It was all good 'cos I had the TV remote control to myself. But I couldn't get away from thinking why was my Noel dead and my black ass living? By my second night back home, I was too depressed to watch any TV or even listen to music. I burst into tears like a pussy and Mum thought about sending me to a private counsellor. We was offered the services of a Fed counsellor but Mum burned that idea.