by Ricky Black
‘I guess I asked for that.’
‘Ask and you shall receive.’
‘Is that why you’ve got Al Green playing?’
Malcolm shook his head, grin still etched on his face.
‘I’m just a big Al fan. If you’d rather have something else on, I can play a bit of Spice Girls? Maybe some Cher?’
Jenny shrilly giggled. ‘Al will do just fine.’
They spoke easily. Malcolm told Jenny a little about his latest projects. They ate dinner, a delicious chicken salad.
‘I wrote something based on you,’ said Malcolm much later. He was pouring them more wine. It was Jenny’s fourth glass, and she was feeling light-headed.
‘Did you now?’
‘I did,’ said Malcolm, all lightheartedness gone.
‘Well, are you going to share it with me?’ teased Jenny. Malcolm didn’t smile. His eyes locked on hers, and Jenny faltered. As she wondered what was happening, Malcolm cleared his throat and began to speak:
The most beautiful thing about her isn’t her beauty.
It’s not her lips; lips that make you want to hold her, gently nibble, and seduce her.
It’s not the body, highly sexual, molten fire from a volcano, though she does not flaunt it.
It’s not the hauntingly intelligent eyes.
It’s all the above, and the personality on top.
That of a humble woman who knows, understands, appreciates the world around her.
Yet still goes out and grinds for what she wants.
When Malcolm stopped, it took a few moments for Jenny to catch up. The wine glass was frozen in her hand. With a start she sat back. Malcolm remained unsmiling. His voice had been monotone while reciting, but Jenny was moved.
‘Wow . . .’ She said.
‘You like?’
Jenny nodded. ‘It’s amazing. I don’t think I’m worthy of the words though. You might have exaggerated. A lot.’
‘You would say that, and that’s what makes you so extraordinary.’
‘You probably say that to all the girls.’
Malcolm drained his wine. His eyes were slightly red, but it didn’t seem to affect him as much as Jenny.
‘I’m no virgin, but I don’t make it a habit of writing personal poetry for women I’m trying to get with. Usually I just use what I have on hand, and it does the trick.’
‘Malcolm, I have a boyfriend,’ said Jenny. His reaction was the same as always. He gave a snort and shrugged.
‘So what?’
‘So, I can’t do anything.’
‘Can’t, or won’t?’
‘Both,’ Jenny put her wineglass on the table. ‘I love him, and I don’t cheat. I’ve had it done to me before.’
‘It’s not supposed to be nice. Cheating is a way of life though I think you’re wonderful. For all the words I said above, and for many more. You know why I invited you here. I know you know, because you’re smart, and yet you came anyway. Why?’
‘I—’ Jenny couldn’t speak. Malcolm was in her space now, his eyes dark, serious, predatory with their intent. She felt trapped, fighting against her desires, trying to remain true to Lamont.
Malcolm’s lips were on hers now though, and it felt right. She went with it, forcing her mouth further against his as he stimulated her lips, determined to control what was undoubtedly a good kiss. Jenny summoned her strength and pulled away just as Malcolm snaked her waist.
‘No!’
‘No?’ Malcolm breathed heavily, his face incredulous. Jenny’s lips still tingled, a growing part of her wanting to continue what they’d started. It had gone far further than it should have, however. She would not do that to Lamont.
‘We can’t do this. I love my partner and I can’t go any further with you. I’m sorry if I gave you any impression that I would.’
‘Are you serious?’ Malcolm’s voice rose. Jenny glanced at the exit, ready to flee if he grew hostile.
‘I am.’
‘You love your damn drug-dealing kingpin of a boyfriend, right? Yes, I know,’ Malcolm added when he spotted Jenny’s stunned expression ‘I know all about Teflon, and the misery he brings to the community that I love. He’s tactless, more concerned with streets and waging war than seeing the beautiful, driven, perfect woman in front of him! Is that really what you want?’
Jenny’s mouth was dry. She couldn’t believe Malcolm knew of Lamont, and not just Lamont, but Teflon too. He’d known the whole time.
‘You don’t even know him.’
‘I know more about Teflon than you could ever imagine. What did he spin you? That he was going legit? Did he blame his childhood? We all have our demons, but we don’t all sling poison to the same people we’re smiling at, day in, day out. He’ll never stop doing what he does. He’s too damn good at it, and while he keeps doing it, people will die. You need to get away, and I can help you. I want you by my side.’
Jenny felt sick, part of her hoping that the words Malcolm spat couldn’t be true. The air between the pair was devoid of emotion now, the tension palpable. Shaking her head, Jenny hurried from the house before Malcolm could kiss her again.
Chapter Fifteen
Saturday 14 March 2015
Shorty knocked on Amy’s door, glancing around as he did. He loved the area Amy lived in. Shorty was a child of Chapeltown. Even when he started making money, he’d always stayed in the Hood. This area had a peaceful vibe though. Shorty had noticed this in the past when he used to pick up Grace. Before he got locked up. Before everything in his world had changed for him.
After waiting a few seconds and hearing nothing. Shorty knocked again.
‘Why do you always have to knock so loudly?’ Amy finally swung the door open, glaring at Shorty. She ran her hands through her hair. Her eyes were narrowed and her face drawn, but Amy’s natural beauty shone through. She was so normal, he thought to himself. Normal and very attractive. She had that in common with Jenny.
‘I thought you might have gone out.’
Amy shook her head. ‘I’m not feeling all that great, so I’m resting. What are you doing with Grace?’
Shorty had no idea. It had taken multiple phone calls and apologies just to get Grace to spend more time with him, and that tore Shorty apart. Before everything went wrong Grace had adored Shorty, and then he’d gone.
‘I’m not sure,’ he finally said.
‘Don’t get her all hopped on sugar wherever it is, please. She’ll be down in a minute. She’s just brushing her teeth.’
Shorty nodded, thinking about Dionte. They had spoken a few times since his trip to Huddersfield. Dionte still had his guard up, but it was a start.
Shorty didn’t deserve a second chance from either of his children, but he would make the most of it. He wouldn’t fail them like he had Timmy.
Shorty closed his eyes. He’d brought Timmy into the game, taught him the basics, then expected him to sit around and wait patiently, because that was the way it was.
It hadn’t been that way for Shorty though. He’d gone from moving weed with K-Bar and Lamont, to selling Class A drugs and making real money.
Aside from Lamont, Shorty had never worked for anyone. He’d worked with people like Marcus and a few elders had schooled him, but he hadn’t waited around. He wouldn’t wait around. Why would Timmy?
‘Are you okay, Shorty?’ Amy looked concerned. Shorty nodded. There were more footsteps, and Grace Turner stood next to Amy. She glanced at Shorty, and his heart felt ready to burst. She looked so much like Amy, but he saw his sullenness in there. She gazed at him, a small smile on her face.
‘Hey Gracey, are you ready to go?’
Grace nodded. Amy hugged her, kissing her on both cheeks.
‘I love you, Grace. Be good for your daddy, okay?’
‘Yes, mummy.’
Shorty held Grace’s hand, settling her into the back of the ride, a Land-Cruiser he’d rented. He started the engine, cringing when the loud hip-hop music blared. Grace jumped. Shorty chuckled.
<
br /> ‘Sorry, baby. I’ll turn this off. We can put the radio on.’
Jenny was slumped on Kate’s sofa, a blanket pulled around her as she stared at the television like a zombie. The kiss with Malcolm plagued her mind. Jenny had enjoyed it far more than she intended. It would have been easy to succumb further and sleep with Malcolm. At first, she’d dismissed Malcolm’s parting words as a petty attempt to break up her and Lamont. They stuck with her though.
Lamont’s attitude had changed, and she had put it down to the aftermath of the shooting. Lamont told her he would leave the street life behind, and Jenny had taken him at his word. When she thought about it, there was no proof that he’d done so.
‘Have you been sat here all day?’ Kate called out as she came through the front door. She kissed Jenny on the cheek and took off her coat.
‘I want to give you some money,’ said Jenny.
‘For what?’ Kate made a face.
‘For letting me stay here.’
‘You’re my best friend and I’m not taking your money. That’s the last I want to hear about it,’ said Kate. ‘I was going to ring you earlier.’
‘Why?’
‘Why do you think? I want to hear all about your date.’
Jenny shook her head. ‘It wasn’t a date.’
‘Sure it wasn’t. Anyway, tell me all about it.’
‘Fine. He made me dinner, we talked, and he recited a poem he wrote.’
‘A poem about what?’
Jenny paused. ‘About me.’
Kate giggled.
‘Wasn’t a date, right? But the man crooned poetry to you? What happened after that?’
‘He kissed me.’
‘And you pulled away?’
‘After a minute I did.’
Kate’s eyes widened.
‘Wow. I teased you, but I didn’t actually think you had it in you. Was he a good kisser?’
‘Yes.’ Jenny still recalled how Malcolm made her lips tingle, and how badly she’d wanted to go further. She felt another crippling wave of guilt.
‘What happened after you pulled away?’
‘He started talking about L. He was saying all this stuff about Lamont murdering people, and how he was still a presence in the streets.’
‘He convinced you, didn’t he?’ Kate watched Jenny now.
‘I don’t know. Do you think L is still selling drugs?’
When Kate hesitated, Jenny felt a lurch in her chest that had little to do with guilt.
‘Fuck,’ she whispered. Kate grabbed her hand.
‘Look, I don’t think L wants to, but I also don’t think he can leave that life so easily. Not at the level he’s at.’
Jenny didn’t reply, staring at her hands, her eyes watering.
‘Thanks for coming,’ Lamont said to Darren when he entered the office at the barbers.
‘No drama. K said it was important. What’s the drill?’
‘You need to cease contact with Rashad. Immediately.’
Darren’s face fell.
‘Did I mess up?’
‘No. You played the role brilliantly. Rashad wasn’t as careful as you were, and the wrong people found out.’
‘Well, thanks for giving me the opportunity anyway.’ Darren turned to leave.
‘Would you like a promotion?’
Those words stilled Darren. He whirled around, staring at Lamont with abject disbelief.
‘What?’
‘I want you working with K-Bar. You’ll have people reporting into you. Can you handle that?’
‘Course I can handle it,’ exclaimed Darren, forgetting himself in his excitement. ‘Are you sure though?’
‘I’ve been hearing good things about you for a while, and this just solidifies that. If you’re interested, I’m happy to make the transition, and I know K-Bar and Maka will be too. Do you want it?’
‘Yes, thank you, L. I mean that.’
‘Don’t worry about. Take the day off. Someone will contact you with more instructions.’
After Darren left, Lamont ate lunch and headed from the barbers with a quick nod to Trinidad. People were still distant with him, likely the results of Malcolm’s speeches. The streets were quiet. Lamont was waiting for things to escalate after Winston’s death.
Climbing into his car, Lamont drove up to Chapel Allerton, stopping in front of a semi-detached, cream coloured house. He headed through the well-tended garden, enamoured with the different coloured flowers. It was the type of garden Jenny would like. He knocked, smiling at the bespectacled brunette who answered. She returned the smile and invited him in after a small hug.
‘Can I get you a drink?’
‘Some tea, please. No sugar or milk.’
Soon, Lamont was perched on the sofa sipping his tea. The woman sat beside him.
‘I’m sorry for not stopping by sooner. Life has grown extra complicated.’
‘You don’t have to apologise for living, Lamont. Do you want to talk about what has become complicated?’
‘Not really,’ Lamont admitted. ‘I think I should though. After everything with the shooting, I’ve tried to do more on my own. Jen’s been after me to speak to someone impartial about my issues. I didn’t feel comfortable doing that. Things are happening in Chapeltown. They’re making people look at me differently and I don’t like it.’
‘Are you referring to the thing with the police? Malcolm’s been on a right tear with his writing.’
This surprised Lamont. ‘You know Malcolm?’
‘I’ve met him a few times at different writing events. He’s definitely a character, but he has star power, if that makes any sense. He reminds me a lot of you, actually.’
‘Great,’ mumbled Lamont.
‘Why is that an issue?’
‘He’s been spending time with Jen.’
‘As in, your girlfriend?’
‘The same one.’
The woman assessed Lamont. ‘What aren’t you telling me?’
‘Jenny and I had a massive fallout. She’s been staying with a friend.’
‘Why did you fall out?’
‘Life. My refusal to get help. I called her weak for speaking to a counsellor. She went behind my back and spoke to a family member I’d fallen out with, trying to force a reconciliation.’
‘So, her intentions were pure at least.’
‘Yes, but I flipped my lid and now we’re on the outs. I have no idea how to even begin fixing it.’
‘Start by talking to her.’
‘I’ve tried.’
‘Have you? Or have you tried telling her she should come home? You both need to sit down and talk about what the future is for you both, and if you will stay together. If you stay like this, it’ll just fester.’
Lamont shrugged. ‘No harm in trying, I guess. How’s the book coming along?’
The woman rubbed her eyes. ‘It’s such a struggle. When I agreed to take this on, I had no idea what I was getting into. Justin’s first book sold really well within the community and did okay within other cities. Trying to write more books from scratch is fun, but time-consuming. I’ve had to reduce my hours at work so I can keep up with it, which everyone tells me is stupid, but I have to do this, you know?’
‘Justin left money though, didn’t he?’ Lamont asked. Justin Holmes had been a drug dealer on the rise years ago. After getting locked up, he was released, re-entering the street life. He’d had a desire to write, but he’d been gunned down two years ago.
His ex-girlfriend, Charlotte took up his mantle and began writing, setting up a publishing press in his name. She tidied his novel with the help of some professional editors, then released it. The book had been well-received, and Charlotte had continued writing. She and Lamont first spoke after Justin’s death. After his own shooting though, Lamont had been less available.
‘You’re still running the business then?’
‘I took on a business partner. They do most of the day-to-day stuff, but I manage the books.’
&
nbsp; Lamont nodded, scratching the underside of his chin. Charlotte had given him a lot to think about.
The pair chatted a while longer, and Lamont knew he was just delaying the inevitable. Charlotte was right about one thing; the longer he and Jenny waited, the harder it would be to come back.
‘Don’t be a stranger, L,’ said Charlotte as she led Lamont to the door. They shared a longer hug, and he kissed her on the cheek, happy he’d stopped by.
‘Gracey!’ Shorty’s mum exclaimed as Shorty walked into the living room holding Grace’s hand. Serena Turner was a short, fleshy woman with beautiful cocoa features and a big smile. She immediately smothered Grace with hugs and kisses, paying Shorty no attention. He left the pair to it, making a drink and checking his phone. He headed back into the living room. Grace sat comfortably on Shorty’s mum’s knee, giggling at whatever story her Nana was telling her.
‘How could you take so long bringing this beautiful little thing to come and see me?’ she demanded, finally acknowledging her son.
‘I’ve been busy, mum. Sorry,’ he replied. He hadn’t told his mum about Grace not wanting to see him. It was too painful.
‘Well, she’s here now I suppose. That’s better than nothing. C’mon, Grace. Come with me, I’ve got some things upstairs that I want to show you.’
Lamont thought about Charlotte as he drove home. He admired her putting everything on hold for Justin’s sake. Justin was full of potential, and Lamont had wanted to work with him. Justin turned him down and ended up being murdered pursuing a silly street feud.
Lamont hadn’t told Charlotte how much money he would give her, but he wasn’t concerned about the price. Justin’s words could help on the streets, and he knew Charlotte was the best person to get behind that. He would call Martin in the morning.
As Lamont pulled into the drive, he was surprised to see Jenny’s Mercedes already parked. He stared at the ride for a moment, trying to evaluate what to do. After a minute, he took a deep breath and headed inside.
Jenny was on the sofa listening to music when Lamont entered. There was a long moment as they took the other in. Jenny was still the most beautiful woman in the world. He saw the changes though; the pinched tiredness in her face. He felt a wave of guilt, realising how much he’d impacted her life in a few short years.