by Ricky Black
‘Yes, Pegz,’ Marcus greeted him.
‘Safe, Marcus. You get it?’ Pegz asked. He was a peanut coloured man, very skinny, with shifty looking eyes. He appeared older than Marcus, spoke with an obvious familiarity. His companion was overseeing the proceedings with his heavily muscled arms folded. He was so big he even made Marcus look small. And that was saying something.
‘Yeah. It’s here.’ Marcus held out the carrier bag. Pegz peered inside, taking the package out of the bag and smiling. Lamont looked at it. It was drugs, a white block that Lamont assumed meant it was cocaine. He didn’t know what size it was, but Pegz seemed pleased.
‘You’re a legend, Marcus. Did Daryl give you any trouble?’
‘Nah. We smacked him and his missus around.’
‘That’s my Don! What did we agree on? Two grand?’
‘That sounds right.’
Pegz handed Marcus a stack of money. Marcus counted it, slapped hands with Pegz and they were on their way back to the car. When they were in the car, Marcus handed them both their shares.
‘Good work, L. For real.’
‘How did he know the man’s name?’ Lamont immediately said what was on his mind.
‘Who?’
‘Pegz. How did he know who you robbed?’
‘Oh. That’s his brother-in-law.’
‘Are you serious?’
‘Pegz has a baby to his sister. Some horrible little thing from Seacroft. Pegz is the one who told us where to go.’
‘That’s wrong though.’ Lamont couldn’t get his head around it. Marcus glanced at him.
‘This is the life. Everyone is looking for a come up. You just got two-fifty for standing in the corner looking like you were gonna shit yourself. Sit back and enjoy. Don’t worry about the hows and whys.’
Victor laughed, but turned it into a cough when Marcus glared at him. When they reached Auntie’s, Marcus turned to Victor and slapped his hand.
‘Good work, man. Ditch the car. Store the tools for next time. I’ll get at you tomorrow. Stay quiet too, okay?’
‘I know the drill,’ Victor assured him. He gave Lamont a nod and drove away.
‘That was easy,’ Marcus yawned. ‘I’m gonna grab some food and maybe go to Mia’s. You coming?’
Lamont wanted to be by himself, needing to process what had transpired.
‘I have school tomorrow.’
‘So what? You had school last time. Come and have another drink.’
Lamont shook his head. ‘Not tonight.’
‘Check you later then.’ Marcus touched fists with Lamont and disappeared down the road.
When Lamont was inside, he brushed his teeth, stripped down and climbed into bed. His heart was still pounding. He lay there, thinking about everything that could have gone wrong. They could have been arrested, or badly hurt if more people had been at the house.
Lamont hadn’t found the robbery itself difficult, but the casual violence unnerved him. Watching Victor hit the woman in the stomach had appalled him. Lamont didn’t want to be associated with that. He hid the cash he’d received, feeling ashamed for taking part. He hadn’t harmed Darryl or his woman, but he felt shame just the same.
So much had happened today. All the events seemed to hit Lamont at once. He grew angry as he recalled the way Leon had treated him. The way Auntie attacked him. Lamont had made some money, but he was still in the same position as he was before the robbery. He was still a piece of shit, looked down on by everyone around him.
Lamont’s mood continued into the next day. He kept his head down, but found he was answering the teachers back with more force than normal. He was hurrying toward the gates after school, when he found Tower and two of his friends waiting.
‘Look who it is,’ Tower laughed to his cronies when he saw Lamont. ‘It’s our favourite tramp.’
Lamont ignored them, keeping his eyes on Tower. Tower liked to bait him, but he wasn’t vicious. He was just a bully who liked an audience. Lamont found himself strangely calm, weighing up the situation.
‘You good though, L? You doing well? Because those trainers are leaning to the side!’
Tower and his friends laughed. He reminded Lamont of Erica’s boyfriend, needing to poke fun at Lamont to make himself feel better. Had he looked at Lamont — truly looked at him — he would have known that today wasn’t the day to provoke him.
A small crowd gathered around now. It was the end of the day and everyone wanted to see the drama. No one really liked Tower, but they laughed anyway.
‘Seriously though, L. It must be hard in your household. You’re pathetic If I was you, man, I’d just kill myself.’
Lamont was reaching boiling point. Some noticed in the crowd, whispering to one another, pointing at him like he was in a zoo. Lamont trembled, a lone tear rolling down his face. Tower noticed.
‘Are you serious? Yo, he’s crying!’ he bellowed with laughter. Lamont was on the verge. Tower was in his face now, clowning around. He patted Lamont on the head like a dog, and that was all it took. With a guttural roar from deep within the recesses of his soul, Lamont struck.
Tower was completely off-guard. The blow caught him flush on the cheek, distorting his features for a second, his face almost clay-like. He staggered back, eyes narrowing as he threw a sloppy return punch. Lamont stepped to the left and caught Tower with a hook, sending him to the ground. The bully tried scrambling to his feet, only to see stars as Lamont kicked him in the face. One of Tower’s friends tried to intervene but tripped over his own feet. Lamont began kicking him, keeping him down. Tower was struggling to his feet so Lamont whaled on him with lefts and rights.
The other two bullies threw Lamont to the floor and began kicking him. Lamont curled up, then lunged and tackled one of them. They rolled around now, trying to pin Lamont down, but he was unhinged, his hands free, lashing out in all directions, hitting anyone he could.
Finally, several teachers waded into the midst to break up the fight. It took two of them alone to contain Lamont, who struggled to get free so he could rip Tower’s head off. Physically dragging him away, they led him up the path and back into school.
That evening, Lamont sulked in his room. For his antics at school they had suspended him for a week. The head teacher had threatened expulsion, but several kids came forward saying that Lamont had been provoked. This combined with his stellar attendance record and schoolwork led her to change her mind.
Lamont was calmer, but he didn’t feel better. He thought he would after finally getting the better of Tower but he felt hollow. Tower wouldn’t take the beating lightly. He would probably make Lamont’s life even more hellish than it already was.
Lamont shrugged, his head bowed low. He needed someone. Someone he could talk to and unload on, but he had no one like that in his life. He hadn’t spoken to Erica since leaving her in the park with Leon. She had tried speaking to him during the day but he had rebuffed her. Lamont knew it wasn’t Erica’s fault that Leon had started with him, but she went out with him, which made her partly responsible.
There was a knock at Lamont’s bedroom door. He ignored it. Auntie had ripped into him earlier, threatening to kick him out onto the streets. After striking him several times, she ordered him upstairs. Lamont had been there ever since, stomach rumbling with hunger. He could have gone downstairs and made something, but his body wouldn’t cooperate.
The person knocked again, louder.
‘L, I’m coming in,’ Marcus said. He walked into the room and shut the door behind him. ‘Why are you sitting in the dark?’
‘I like the dark. It’s peaceful.’
Marcus shook his head and turned the light on, the glare making Lamont squint for a second. Marcus looked down at him, concern evident in his obsidian eyes.
‘I heard about what happened today. Are you good?’
Lamont nodded. ‘Yeah. I’m fine.’
‘I heard you spazzed on Tower and his boy’s, bro. Word is you were brawling with like five of them, and t
hen teachers came and you were fighting with them too!’ Marcus sounded impressed.
‘He pushed me too far,’ Lamont replied.
‘Tower’s a prick, thinking he’s connected. I’m gonna talk to his brother, and I promise he ain’t gonna trouble you again. What did the witch say?’
‘Usual line. I’m a disgrace, blah blah. She’s threatening to throw me out.’
‘How many times has she used that one though? This place would turn to shit without you and she knows that. Let her say what she’s saying,’ Marcus paused then. ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’
Again, Lamont nodded.
‘I’m just saying . . . I know how I can be, but you’re my brother. If there’s anything you really need to talk about, I’m always gonna be here for you.’
Lamont smiled at Marcus, ‘I know, man. I appreciate it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me . . . I guess I’m just tired of it all. Is this the best it gets for me? Someone troubles me constantly, I finally stand up for myself, and I end up getting suspended from school? When’s it supposed to change? When are things gonna get right for me?’
‘Make it better, blood. Don’t sit around waiting for it because I’ll tell you something; people are so screwed up that you can’t rely on things being right. Make them right by doing your own thing,’ Marcus paused again. ‘I’ve got another move if you’re interested.’
Lamont shook his head. ‘No thanks. It’s not for me.’
‘You sure? There’s three hundred quid in it for you.’
‘I’m sure. Thanks though. What you said; I think you’re right.’
Marcus grinned. ‘Read one of your books or something. Just kick back.’
‘Yeah, I think I’ll do that.’
Chapter Four
Saturday 15 March 1997
Lamont woke early and tiptoed down the stairs. Marika had stayed at a friend’s house the night before, and Auntie was sleeping in, so neither were in his way.
Making himself some juice, Lamont did some press-ups on the kitchen floor, then ate some breakfast. When he finished, he tided up, then rushed through the usual chores before taking a shower. He swiftly dressed and rooted around his room, collecting his hidden money.
Including what he had made working with Marcus, Lamont had saved over four hundred pounds. What he had been saving it for, he wasn’t sure. The goal of independence for he and Marika was still a while away. For now, Lamont was tired of looking how he did. It was time to change that.
Since going to live with Auntie, Lamont couldn’t recall ever having new clothes. Auntie would buy a lot of his clothes from various jumble sales and charity shops. Her clothing was all designer, and even Marika had some nice pieces. With Lamont, she told him he grew too quickly for her to be buying him new stuff. He heard it so often that he almost started to believe it.
Gathering his money and making sure the notes were neat, Lamont shoved them into his pocket and left the house, locking the door behind him. He hurried down the street and crossed the road, debating whether to wait at the bus stop or to just walk all the way to town. By the time he got to the stop it was empty. Assuming he had just missed a bus, Lamont walked.
It was a beautiful morning. It wasn’t warm, but the breeze was pleasant on Lamont’s face. By the time he reached the city centre, Lamont was hungry again. Buying a sandwich and a drink, he ate quickly, standing against a wall opposite the St John’s centre. When he finished, he went into a shoe store.
As soon as Lamont entered, he smelled the suede and the leather of the different trainers and shoes. When Auntie would take him shopping when he was younger, Lamont wasn’t allowed to even look in the shop’s direction. As he had grown older he would go in with Marcus or one of his other friends, usually just to look. Now, he would buy.
Lamont navigated his way through some other shoppers and gazed at the Nike section of trainers. He noticed the shop staff watching him out of the corner of his eye. One stood near the exit in what she thought was a discreet manner. It galled Lamont that they would just assume he was some scruffy thief. Nostrils flaring, he reached for the best pair of trainers he could see; a pair of white, grey and royal blue Nike Tailwinds. Signalling to one of the staff, he beckoned him over. The man came, but dragged his feet. He was bald and wiry, his black and white polo shirt and black trousers hanging loosely on his frame.
‘How can I help?’ he sounded bored.
‘I want these in a size nine,’ said Lamont. The man hesitated, sharing a look with another member of staff. The nerves Lamont felt walking in dissipated. This person didn’t know him; he would not let them look down their noses at him.
‘Is that a problem? Do you not have any in stock?’ Lamont raised his voice slightly, causing people to look over. Abashed, it galvanised the man into action.
‘Sorry, I’ll go look now.’
Lamont watched the man hurry away. He glared at the woman standing by the door, and she turned away from him. After trying on the trainers, Lamont paid at the till, hiding a smile at the lock of shock that appeared on the retailer’s face. He tried getting Lamont to buy a host of other accessories, but Lamont turned him down and left the shop with his head held high. He went to a few other shops buying various t-shirts and a few tracksuits.
His hands heaving with bags, Lamont went to Waterstones, his favourite bookshop. The second he walked in, he was as always enthralled by the books. He glanced around, mooching around the different sections and selecting two paperbacks along with a copy of Prince by Machiavelli. After paying, he treated himself to a taxi home.
As Lamont sat in the back of the car, lost in his own thoughts, he felt like a different person. He had new clothes, new books to read, and he was travelling home in style. It all seemed surreal, and he wondered if it was a sign, if fate was trying to tell him that crime paid. Lamont had toed the line for years, receiving nothing but scorn from those around him. He had turned to crime for the first time and now he seemed to be on an entirely different path. It was strange.
Lamont paid the driver around the corner from his house, climbing out with his bags. He unlocked the front door, then locked it behind him.
‘Lamont!’
Ignoring Auntie, Lamont went straight upstairs, hesitating outside his room.
‘Lamont, come here right now!’
‘Thinking fast, Lamont opened Marcus’s door and put the bags in there. Hurrying to the bathroom, he flushed the toilet and pretended to wash his hands.
‘Didn’t you hear me calling you?’ Auntie was on him the second he entered the living room. She was smoking with a vengeance, taking full advantage of Marika being out of the house.
‘Sorry, I needed the toilet,’ lied Lamont.
‘Where were you?’
‘I went for a walk.’
Technically, he’d walked into town, Lamont rationalised.
‘Who said you could do that? There’s work for you to do.’
‘I needed some fresh air, and I didn’t want to disturb your sleep.’
Auntie glared. Finishing her cigarette, she beckoned Lamont to come with her. They traipsed upstairs and Auntie barged into Lamont’s room, looking around. Her eyes narrowing, she turned back to Lamont, eyes flashing with anger.
‘Next time you wanna leave the house, tell me first. You’re not a damn grown up yet.’
‘Yes, Auntie. I will.’ Lamont did his best to hide the glee he was feeling inside. If Auntie had found the clothing, all hell would have broken loose. Once the clothes went into his battered wardrobe, she would be none the wiser. It wasn’t as if she ever did his washing, anyway.
‘Get downstairs and do your chores.’
‘I did them this morning,’ said Lamont. Walking past Auntie, he didn’t even wait for her to say anything else as he headed to make a drink. Shopping was thirsty work.
Lamont resisted the urge to wear his new clothing when he ventured out later on that night. Marika wasn’t back from her sleepover and Auntie had gone out. Not wanting to remain in
the house, Lamont roamed the streets.
Levi had contacted him earlier, ringing Auntie’s landline to let him know he was still waiting for Craig. Lamont’s intent to sell drugs hadn’t abated. He would do whatever was necessary to leave Auntie and all her mess behind. Working with Levi would help him put something together.
Stopping at a paper shop, Lamont bought a bottle of Ribena, sipping it as he slouched against a nearby wall. He was so lost in his thoughts that it took him a moment to realise someone was trying to talk to him.
The baby-faced teenager was Lamont’s age, with skin the same shade as a peanut shell, closely cropped hair and harsh, dark eyes. He was stockily built, the outlines of muscle visible through the grey hooded top he wore.
‘What’s up, Shorty?’ Lamont greeted his friend.
‘Nothing, saw you chilling over here so I thought I’d come see how you were doing. Heard you got kicked out of school for stabbing someone?’ Shorty raised an eyebrow.
‘I got into a fight and ended up suspended. It involved no knives.’ Lamont couldn’t even think where that rumour would have come from.
‘Thought it sounded a little dodgy. How come you were fighting? You’re usually trying to walk away when people trouble you.’
‘They provoked me.’
‘Always with the big words,’ Shorty scoffed. ‘Go on then; who provoked you?’
‘Tower.’
Shorty looked disgusted, ‘Ninja’s little brother? He’s a geek. I hope you smacked him up.’
‘I did all right.’ Lamont wouldn’t boost his ego and tell Shorty the whole story. He sighed, realising he would have to face everyone at school when he went back. He thought about the altercation with Leon. Even after fighting to be left alone, Lamont would still have to deal with Leon’s nonsense. He could walk another way home, but the road leading to the park was the quickest route. He could even take the bus, but pride wouldn’t let him do that.