Web of Lies (5 page)

Femi’s tears soaked into his pillow. What kind of person would shoot a harmless little dog like Bonzo? They had been friends ever since the white terrier came to live next door to Aunt Gracie and Uncle Roy. Near the end of the long garden, behind the shed and the compost heap, Femi had found a loose plank in the neighbors’ fence. By swinging it sideways, he could let Bonzo squeeze through. He only did this when no one else was around. He used to give Bonzo special treats and soon knew that oatmeal cookies and crisps were his favorites. Then they would rough and tumble. When it was time to go, he used to push the little dog back through the hole and secure the loose plank with a couple of bricks.

If others were there, Femi restricted their games to playing tug-of-war with sticks through the slits between the fence. The terrier would bark frantically, running back
and forth, calling his friend to come to the bottom of the garden. But Femi was not going to reveal their secret. Sometimes he would come back inside the house rather than drive Bonzo mad by ignoring his signals. Occasionally, from his bedroom window upstairs, Femi had watched how Marco acted with Bonzo. He might throw a stick or a ball for Bonzo to fetch, but Femi never saw him pick the little dog up and cuddle him like Femi did.

When Papa had taken them to live in their own flat, Femi had begged to get a puppy of their own. But Papa had said it would be irresponsible. Apart from the space and the cost, what would happen if the immigration officers told them to leave the country? Hadn’t Femi seen the ads: “A dog is for life”? He would have to wait.

Whenever they visited Aunt Gracie and Uncle Roy, the first thing Femi did was to run out to the back to see if his friend was there. But today there had been no barking. Bonzo was dead. Someone had put a bullet through his head to send terror into the heart of the boy who owned him. Femi curled up more tightly and sobbed under his bedcovers.

“Hey, little brother, this time you’ve really been avoiding me! What’s the deal, man?”

Femi froze in front of the bicycle shop on the High Street. It was true. James had sent a message to meet the gang in town, but Femi had made up an excuse about being busy. Aunt Gracie’s story had scared him. It wasn’t that he believed that James, or even Errol, would do such
a wicked thing as killing an innocent little dog. They might take a few things from shops, and Errol and his friends smoked stuff. But that didn’t make them like the gang who killed Bonzo. No, the problem with getting deeper into the gang was that it made things too complicated. Apart from anything else, how would he keep covering up in front of Papa? Life would be simpler if he just concentrated on getting onto the football team with Gary. If he didn’t make trouble and stayed out of the gang’s way, they should realize that he was no longer interested.

“What’s wrong, little brother? Didn’t you hear me?”

Femi couldn’t stare at the spokes of wheels behind the plate glass any longer. He half turned and lifted his face but couldn’t bring himself to look directly into the brown webbed eyes.

“I haven’t been feeling too good,” he said weakly. If only he hadn’t stopped outside the bicycle shop, he would have already turned the corner toward home. Then James wouldn’t have caught him.

“That’s what friends are for. To help you when you’re not feeling so good. Errol has been asking for you.”

“I can’t come now.” Femi shuffled as if he had to go.

“I’ve been covering for you, bwoy! I saw you look the other way twice last week, but I didn’t tell Errol. He doesn’t like that kind of thing, you know.”

“But—”

“No buts, little brother. You don’t turn down a brethren. Come!”

As they approached the garage, it appeared to be empty.
The only noise came from the road behind them. The building remained silent as they walked toward the wooden screen. Femi felt the tight band around his chest ease a little. But as soon as James rattled open the back-room door, the smell of weed stung his nostrils even before he saw the fog. This time Errol did not come out, and James led Femi inside. His eyes sharpened in the gloom. Errol and three young men were sitting on a medley of old chairs and wooden boxes. Some boxes stacked together in the middle served as a table. Cans of beer and cards were spread out on top. They must have been in the middle of a game because each man had cards in his hand.

Femi couldn’t see Errol’s eyes behind the shades, but he could feel them penetrate him. Errol didn’t make any light chat this time. He picked up a small, square package from the floor and held it out. It was the size of a compact disc and was wrapped in gold paper.

“It’s for your sister, right. I’ve been waiting nearly two weeks. Give it to her tonight, right?”

Femi felt the hardness of the parcel between his fingers.

“Right, Errol,” he mumbled.

“Just remember—I like people to stay in touch. You get my meaning?”

Femi did. He nodded. The young man sitting next to Errol had been leaning forward with his head down, hidden under a cap. He raised himself suddenly, examining Femi.

“Yeah, Errol is here for his friends,” he said deliberately. “So his friends have to be here for him.”

Femi clutched Errol’s parcel. Nothing was going to be simple after all.

Sade found the parcel on her bed after supper. Papa had left for the cab office, and she had gone to her room to continue her English homework. Had Papa left a surprise present for her? But gold paper wasn’t really his style, and her birthday was still months away. She guessed it was a CD. It certainly wouldn’t be a gift from Femi. Yet he was the only person who could have put it there. What was going on? Curiosity fought her unease as she slipped her forefinger between the folds of gold paper to reveal the cover. Four black women in black! It was their first single. She should be over the moon! But the words in capital letters on the pink Post-it stuck in one corner made her flush as sharply as a slap.

IT’S YOUR DESTINY!
BE MY QUEEN!

A bitter taste surged up into her throat like the rising of a bad memory. There was only one person who would have written those words and forced them into her ears, ignoring her protests.

With the parcel in her hand, Sade stormed into Femi’s room.

“Who gave you this?” she demanded.

Femi shrugged.

“A boy.”

“What’s his name?”

Another shrug.

“Was it the same boy who gave you the message before?”

Silence.

“What’s he look like? Is he tall? Or short?”

More silence.

“Is he white? Black?”

Continued silence.

Sade lost her temper.

“I know it’s from Lizard Eyes,” she screamed. “It’s that Errol Richards, isn’t it? Even if he didn’t give it to you himself! I told you to keep away from him, Femi, didn’t I? I’m going to tell Papa that you’re getting mixed up in bad company!”

“I’m not!” Femi shouted back. “You don’t know anything!”

“You’re going to make trouble for us. The immigration people won’t give Papa his papers because of you!” Her voice was spiraling out of control. She hadn’t meant to get carried away like this. She heard herself beginning to yell
about Marco—and Bonzo dying because of him. Femi’s eyes filled up with tears, and he turned his back on her.

A waft of shame overcame Sade, and she fled back to her room. It was Lizard Eyes she should be shouting at, not Femi. Trembling, she stuffed the parcel into her rubbish bin. Lizard Eyes was getting at her again. He was beginning to use her little brother! But what could she tell Papa? The past was the past, and better left alone. Nor did she want to accuse Femi unfairly. Who could say what Papa would do? If he let loose his temper and overreacted, he might make matters worse. It wouldn’t only be Femi who would be embarrassed. She would be too.

Sade sat down at her desk and spread out her books. She picked up her pen, trying to concentrate on what she had to do. But the disc, wrapped in gold paper and dumped in her rubbish bin, kept troubling her. She hadn’t even let herself look properly at the cover with its picture of her favorite group. It wouldn’t do any harm, would it? One voice in her head said, “Don’t be so uptight! Cheer yourself up, girl!” Another said, “No way are you taking anything from Lizard Eyes!” With these voices arguing inside her, she wouldn’t get any work done at all. Finally she pulled out her Discman from her drawer and then let her hand slip into the bin. After removing the disc, she returned the cover to the bin, in case Femi came back. She just wanted to play the track once. Then she would be able to concentrate on her work.

M
ONDAY
29
TH
S
EPTEMBER

“What makes you think James will listen to you? Shouldn’t you tell your dad?” Mariam asked earnestly after Sade described her plan. They sat on a bench in the playground, waiting for the bell to call them to tutor time, then form room.

“I can’t! He’d go mad! I don’t know what he’d do. He keeps saying we should be at school in Nigeria, where there is proper discipline.”

Sade didn’t need to explain more. Mariam and her mother were refugees from Somalia. They too had been forced to escape the soldiers in their country. Mariam’s mother had also been called for The Interview. The immigration officers had used an interpreter and checked every little detail in her mother’s application for asylum. They had kept returning to how she could know for sure that her husband had died in prison. “No respect for the
dead.” Mariam had repeated her mother’s words when telling Sade. Some months after The Interview, they had received papers saying they could stay. However, Mariam still knew how it felt to have your real home far away and to have a parent who remembered it even more often than you did.

After registration Sade lagged behind in the tutor room, pretending to check the contents of her bag. James seemed to be in no hurry to troop off to the first lesson of the day. He hung behind with a small group of students, smiling at Marcia, who was in full flow.

“This is Passion FM! Turn us on and we turn
you
on!” Marcia pouted and flicked her sleekly straightened hair behind one ear. This week the black strands glinted with auburn. Her long fingers were covered in rings, four on one hand and three on the other. A cluster of gold bracelets jingled around her right wrist. Marcia managed to get away with more jewelry in school than anyone else.

“Break it up now! You’re going to be late for your next lesson.” Their tutor, Mr. Morris, had a stack of books tucked under one arm and was waiting to follow them out into the corridor. “By year ten, I shouldn’t be getting complaints of lateness.”

“Would you have liked to be a radio announcer rather than a teacher, Sir?” Donna swept a comb through her long blond hair. “You’ve got the right voice for it!”

“Imagine how many people you could have driven to distraction, Sir!” Marcia almost purred the last words. “Not just a bunch of schoolkids!”

There was a burst of laughter as they headed for the door. James trailed at the rear, and Sade slipped beside him. He grinned at her.

“Or driven them to grief!” he muttered through his teeth. She didn’t smile back. Instead, she thrust a small piece of paper into his jacket pocket.

“Read it,” she said. “I’ve got something for you. Be there.”

At eleven o’clock Sade hurried to the library. Some children were gathered around the computers, and a few were browsing quietly through the paperback stand. The librarian was strict about noise. Sade disappeared between the shelves into the farthest corner with the science books. No one else was there. She picked up a book about tropical forests, but her eyes kept flicking across to the clock. By ten past eleven, there was still no sign of James. Her note had said:

The note would make sense only if she had guessed correctly that he was the go-between. He would then imagine that Femi had told her about him—and that she wanted to give him a message for Lizard Eyes. But what if her guess was wrong? It would look as if she was making a pass at James! She shouldn’t have signed her name! Perhaps at this very moment he was showing the note to people like Marcia and Donna. They would all be laughing. They
would probably be making a joke about Sade wanting to meet him in the library. It was probably the last place James would want to be seen nowadays. It was where they had always met for the book club.

By a quarter past eleven, Sade’s stomach was churning and she was about to give up waiting when the entrance door swung open. James glanced casually around the library as he strolled toward the nonfiction section. He seemed completely at ease, without any of the swagger and aggression of Lizard Eyes. His face looked so open—almost innocent—that for a moment Sade hesitated. Then she pulled out the small package in its gold paper.

“Take this back to your friend.” She thrust it firmly into his hand. “Tell him to stop pestering me. I don’t want anything from him. Ever.”

Her gaze didn’t leave his face. The confident brown eyes and the muscles around his mouth flickered for a moment, then settled back into a smile.

“Which friend?” he asked evenly. “I’ve lots of friends.”

Was he playing with her, pretending he didn’t know? However, he didn’t look down at the parcel in his hand or ask what it was. That meant he knew, didn’t it?

“Your friend Lizard Eyes.” The nickname slipped from her brain to her tongue. “Why don’t you get yourself decent friends?” She stressed the word
decent
.

His mouth tightened. The brown netting expanded, and the black pupils at the center became smaller. She had touched a nerve. Before he had time to reply, she was going to have her say.

“You used to be worth a hundred times more than that
Errol Richards. Now he’s got you, and you’re starting on my little brother! Getting him to run your messages. I want you to leave my brother alone!”

“What are you talking about?” James retorted. “Do you know what it’s like out there on the street? Do you go around with your eyes shut or something?”

It was his turn now.

“Don’t you know the streets are hard, man? You think you can ignore them so the streets don’t see you? You’re like that bird, an ostrich, yeah!” He was scornful. “It takes
one
second for a boy to get cut up!”

The librarian was looking in their direction. In a moment she would come over to them. Sade signaled for James to lower his voice.

“You should thank me if I show your little brother how to survive.” James folded his arms. His jaw hardened. How could she ever have thought that his face looked open?

“You’re mad!” she whispered angrily. “I thought you were smart! If you don’t leave Femi alone, I’ll tell my dad about you and that friend of yours, and then you will be in trouble.”

“Huh, trouble? What you saying, girl? If that daddy of yours goes looking for trouble, he’ll get it, right. Errol has plenty of friends, you know what I mean? They know how to take care of him. Your daddy might have been a Somebody in your country, but here, he’s a N-O-B-O-DY.” James rapped the letters.

She felt the blood rushing to her face.

“Do you want your daddy to play with fire? I won’t go deeper than that. Join the real world, Miss Daddy’s Girl!”

Sade was saved from replying by the bell.