by Kim Slater
‘Get upstairs,’ he yelled in my ear, so loud it was enough to make me deaf.
I ran away as quick as I could, to the stairs. Ryan jumped up from his Xbox chair and kicked me hard on the bum as I passed.
It hurt but I didn’t let out a sound. I ran upstairs and shut my bedroom door.
I made a note of the time I called at the bedsit. I recorded the details of Scarface’s attack on Jean.
I sketched Grandma in the hospital bed. I drew all of the tubes very light, so you could mostly just see Grandma’s face. I made a map of the hospital corridors.
There was a tap on my bedroom door. Only Mum knocks like that.
I pulled a clean sheet of paper down over Grandma’s face as Mum crept in.
‘Just wanted to check you were OK,’ she whispered, and kissed me on the forehead.
‘I’m OK,’ I said. ‘I went in your bag for a pen and I found this.’
I pulled the birthday card out of my satchel.
Mum took a sharp breath and covered her mouth.
After a few seconds she moved her hand to cover her forehead. She squeezed her eyes shut.
‘I’m sorry, Kieran,’ she said. ‘I didn’t want you to find out like this. I’d got all the cards out and put them in my handbag to show you the other day. I knew Stephen worked at the hostel, and it felt like the right time to tell you about him. I’ve kept all the cards he sent, every one . . . but Tony wouldn’t let—’
‘Have I got an uncle?’ I said. ‘Is that who you were talking to outside the shop?’
I thought about Stephen’s face at the hostel. I remembered the way he had looked at me and watched me as I walked around.
Mum nodded.
‘Stephen is your dad’s brother.’
The next day, Karwana was back at school.
‘My mother and I had to speak with a man from your government,’ he said quietly. ‘About my father.’
He said each word correctly but he still sounded foreign.
The fact I had an uncle was like a delicious secret that kept popping up in my mind every few minutes.
Mum said, if I wanted to, we could meet Stephen for a coffee one day after school.
‘I want to talk to him about my dad,’ I said.
But I wasn’t ready to share it with anyone else yet.
I told Karwana about Grandma being in hospital.
‘I am very sorry to hear that your grandmother is ill,’ he said.
At dinner-time, we walked round the field together and I told Karwana about Scarface attacking Jean.
‘Scarface may have stolen the ring to sell,’ he said. ‘For drugs.’
‘Drugs?’
Karwana nodded. ‘This is what happens in Uganda. When people need to buy drugs, they will stop at nothing. Even attacking an old lady.’
‘I’m going to his bedsit tonight,’ I said. ‘To see if I can find anything out.’
‘He may still have the ring,’ Karwana said. ‘I will help you search for it.’
I looked at him.
I wasn’t sure.
I didn’t normally trust people I'd just met. Plus, I felt sick when I thought about searching the bedsit for the ring. Going in there when Scarface was out might even be breaking the law, even though he was the criminal and we were the detectives.
‘I am your friend,’ Karwana said, as if he’d guessed what I was thinking. ‘Friends help each other.’
I got the rude card out of my pocket.
‘Promise you won’t tell anyone I showed you?’ I said.
Karwana looked at it and did his dazzly smile.
He whistled.
‘Is this your sister?’ he said.
‘I haven’t got a sister,’ I said.
‘Very nice and sexy, Keer-Ron.’
We both laughed.
Having a friend felt brilliant.
I gave Karwana the card. He put it in his pocket.
It meant we were properly best friends now.
‘You seem to have had trouble keeping on task with your lessons today, Kieran,’ said Miss Crane in the afternoon.
I couldn’t concentrate; I kept thinking about going to the bedsit.
Karwana knew where the embankment was. He and his mum were living in one of the flats behind it.
We arranged to meet there at 7.30 p.m. on the dot. No being late allowed.
I went straight to the embankment after school. Jean wasn’t there.
I wanted to go to the hostel and see Uncle Stephen. But it was weird and scary, as well as being exciting. And somehow, in my head, I couldn’t make Stephen-the-security-guard into Stephen-my-uncle. It felt like I was going mental.
Instead, I went home to prepare for the raid on Scarface’s bedsit.
A ‘raid’ is when the police search someone’s property for evidence of a crime. The police have to have a ‘warrant’ before they break down someone’s door or push their way into someone’s house. I can’t get a warrant, but when I tell the police why we had to search Scarface’s bedsit they will understand.
I managed to get upstairs without Tony or Ryan noticing.
After a few minutes, the front door slammed.
I looked out of my window and saw Ryan going off down the street with his spotty friend, Reece. He’d finally finished all the waves in his game. I hoped and prayed it was ages until the next game came out, so I might get to watch CSI at least one time on the big telly.
I was doing some sit-ups on my floor to get strong for later when I heard the doorbell.
I went to my door and listened. Tony opened the kitchen door and shouted to whoever it was to come round the back way.
Something inside my head dared me to creep down the stairs.
Tony went into the kitchen and pulled the door closed behind him.
Except he didn’t.
Pull it properly closed, I mean.
It was still open, just a tiny bit.
I knew Ryan was out, so I crept across the hall and right up to the door. I could see everything through the gap.
Tony’s toolbox was open on the kitchen floor, behind the door. All the tools that used to be in there were gone. There were just rows of small plastic bags full of what looked like little rocks.
There was a man standing at the door. He had his hoodie pulled up so I couldn’t see his face. He gave Tony some folded-up money. I could see there was loads of it, enough to buy a real-life racing car.
Tony counted the money, then gave the man a few of the little bags.
When Tony closed the door, I turned round to creep back upstairs but I tripped over the hall rug. Tony came out of the kitchen and stood there looking down at me.
‘How long have you been there?’ he demanded.
I couldn’t answer him. The sea sound was whooshing so loud that my brain turned to mush and the words wouldn’t come out.
Tony looked mad. His arms stayed down by his side but his hands were clenched into fist shapes.
He walked towards me.
‘I said, how long?’ His voice was quiet.
I stayed where I was and didn’t move. I didn’t even breathe.
Tony walked closer to me, and I could see his mouth moving. His eyes were squinted nearly shut and his teeth flashed like razors behind his lips.
He reached down and yanked my arm hard.
‘Get up!’ he shouted, so loud I could hear it over the thundering sea sound in my head. ‘I’ll teach you to effing spy on me,’ he yelled, and stepped back. I saw his weight shift to one leg and his other foot lift off the floor into a kicking position.
I rolled backwards towards the stairs so he couldn’t reach me.
‘You little—’
He lunged forward, his fingers like sharp claws.
Then the doorbell rang.
His hands froze in mid-air. He looked back over his shoulder, as if he was trying to see who the caller was through the door. Then he straightened up and dropped his hands to his side. He unscrewed his face and looked like a human being again.
I nodded and jumped up.
I ran up to my room, sat on the bed and took a few breaths of my inhaler. I could hear Tony talking to someone downstairs in the kitchen.
The sea sound was still there but it was further away now. I could feel my heart banging in the top of my throat, like it had jolted up from its normal position. This was impossible, but stress can make you feel weird stuff.
I wanted to stay in my room to calm down a bit more but I was scared that once his visitor had gone Tony would come upstairs and get me. There was nobody here who liked me, apart from Mum and she was at work. If Ryan came back, he would watch Tony hurt me, and maybe even film it on his phone, like he did when I had an asthma attack once.
I felt sure that Uncle Stephen would be tough enough to fight Tony, but he wasn’t here either. It was important to get out of the house as soon as possible, because I didn’t feel safe.
I packed my satchel with all my evidence and stood at the top of the stairs. It felt like my guts had turned to paste and I felt hot, even though it was cold in the house.
I could still hear Tony’s voice but his change of tone sounded like he might be getting ready to say ‘See you later then, mate’, like he always did before he closed the door and put his toolbox away.
Less than a minute from now it could just be me and Tony in the house, but somehow I couldn’t move. I was stuck fast, like a statue.
Then a funny thing happened. Grandma’s face flashed in my mind. She was smiling and well again and she nodded her head as if to say, ‘You can do it, lad.’
Mum’s face joined Grandma’s in my mind’s eye, along with Uncle Stephen, Karwana and Miss Crane. I imagined them all encouraging me to move, to get away.
Tony might hate me, but there are lots of other people who care about me and want me around, I told myself. My feet started to shuffle.
I took a few deep breaths, and then I moved really quickly. I bounded down the stairs and ran full charge out of the kitchen and through the open door, pushing past the youth in the hooded top and nearly knocking him over.
I could hear shouting and yelling behind me but I didn’t look back. I ran and ran, away from Tony, towards the river and Jean and the ducks.
I was an hour early for meeting Karwana, but when I got to the embankment Jean was back on her bench.
I was so pleased that she was safe, I couldn’t stop smiling. Now I was by the river, all my Tony-terror started melting away.
‘At least somebody looks pleased to see me,’ she said.
‘I was worried about where you’d gone,’ I said.
‘They looked after me at the hostel,’ Jean said, ‘let me stay there all day.’
I told her about Grandma.
‘I’m so happy for you, lad,’ she said.
I was pleased that Jean had stopped crying.
I looked at her finger but I didn’t mention the ring.
‘It’s OK,’ she said, when she saw me looking. ‘The ring’s gone and that’s that. Like Old Billy says, my memories are up here.’ She tapped her head. ‘Nobody can take them away.’
That was true. I had memories of my dad somewhere in my head, as well. Now I had an uncle who might be able to help me remember him too.
‘The hostel staff rang the police,’ Jean went on. ‘I told them about the man attacking me and I gave them a description of him, the ring, and also Colin’s missing medal. They said to check the local pawn shops and gave me a special number to call if I see either of them in a shop window.’
‘Is that it?’ I said.
Surely the police would be more interested than that?
Jean nodded.
‘If they don’t give a toss about Colin being murdered, they’re not going to come out here for a ring being nicked, are they?’
‘Did you see Stephen, the security guard at the hostel?’ I asked.
‘Nah,’ said Jean.
She rummaged around in one of her bags.
‘Here,’ she said.
She pushed a ten-pound note into my hand.
‘That’s towards your bus fares to the hospital until your grandma gets out,’ she said.
‘But, Jean—’
‘Shh. Take it. Colin’s family gave me thirty pounds and I haven’t spent any yet. Me and you are friends, and friends help each other out.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, and put the money in my pocket.
I had the best two friends in the world.
This is my friend Karwana,’ I said to Jean. ‘He comes from Uganda.’
This is called ‘introducing’ someone. When you have two people who don’t know each other but you are friends with both, you introduce them. Miss Crane taught me how to do it properly. It’s to do with politeness.
‘Very pleased to meet you,’ said Jean.
Her hand was ditched with muck, but Karwana still shook it.
We said goodbye to Jean and walked back to the road.
Karwana looked like Spiderman. He was all dressed in black, even his trainers.
‘In case I have to climb,’ he said.
I wished I had an outfit like that. Karwana said he hadn’t watched CSI, yet somehow he knew all about dressing in dark clothing so as not to be seen.
Karwana didn’t seem one bit scared. It made me feel like I wasn’t the boss.
Then I remembered that I had brought Karwana in to help with my plan. I had still masterminded it, like a lead detective. And I had all the notes and evidence.
We walked up into the estate and stopped at the corner of Walton Road. It was 7.41 p.m.
I showed him which bedsit it was. There was no light on inside.
‘We need to establish if the perp is home,’ I said.
Karwana ran across the road and disappeared down the path.
Two minutes later, he was back.
‘Scarface is out,’ he said with a grin. ‘But you won’t believe it: he’s left the back door open!’
I felt relieved that we didn’t have to break a window to get in. The police might still be annoyed that we were going into someone else’s house to look for evidence without a warrant but someone had to expose Scarface as a criminal and maybe even a murderer. Even if they put me in prison, I wanted to do it for Jean.
I was glad I’d had nothing to eat. My guts were churning like mad.
Planning stuff was great but actually doing it was much scarier than I thought.
We went down the path.
I coughed.
Karwana put his finger up to his lips.
‘Very important to be quiet, Keer-Ron.’ He pointed to the upstairs bedsit, where there was a light on.
I felt a bit annoyed. You couldn’t help coughing.
I took charge and used the proper terminology, while in my head I said a silent prayer that the police would understand why we had to enter Scarface’s lair.
‘OK, let’s proceed through the back door. Gloves on?’
Karwana nodded.
We crept up to the door and pushed it open, slowly. Scarface must’ve pulled it to when he left, not realizing it hadn’t properly closed.
I hadn’t remembered to bring a torch, so we put the kitchen light on.
Every inch of the worktop was covered in dirty pots and beer cans. Pizza boxes were scattered all over the floor. It smelt rank.
There wasn’t even a drawer or a cupboard to search. Just a cooker, a microwave, a sink and a table.
We turned off the light and went through to the other room. It was a living room and bedroom in one.
‘We’d better be quick in here,’ I said.
I could feel my heart pounding in my chest and even in my mouth. Scarface could return at any time and trap us like rats. He might beat us or drug us and keep us prisoner here, where nobody would think to look.
‘Keer-Ron,’ hissed Karwana, shaking the horrible thoughts away. ‘Come on.’
We started to search f
or Jean’s son’s ring. We didn’t need to put the light on – the room was lit up with an orange glow from the street lights.
The carpet was old and filthy. My feet kept sticking to it. We took the cushions off the settee and pushed our hands down the sides.
Nothing.
There was a wooden unit in the corner but no telly on it. Karwana opened the drawer and started looking through a tangle of wires.
It was the weirdest thing, being inside someone else’s house.
The noises seemed louder and time went faster.
My heart was banging against my breastbone.
I looked under the settee and the chair.
Nothing.
Then I saw Scarface’s beanie hat on the coffee table.
I picked it up and something glinted that was hidden underneath.
‘Jean’s ring!’ I said.
Karwana was looking at something star-shaped in his gloved hand.
‘What is it?’ I said.
He opened his hand to show me. It was silver and gold with colours in the middle.
I held it under the light and read the glinting, engraved words.
‘It’s Colin’s Medal of Bravery,’ I said.
Karwana peeped through the curtains.
‘Someone is coming,’ he hissed.
My guts lurched up into my throat.
I tried to take in great gulps of air. I grabbed my inhaler and took a puff.
Karwana had locked the kitchen door behind us.
We wedged ourselves in behind the couch.
‘As soon as he comes in here, we must run for our lives,’ said Karwana.
I felt sure I was going to wee myself.
I stopped breathing.
Someone was unlocking the kitchen door from the outside.
‘It is Scarface,’ said Karwana.
Now he sounded scared too.
My chest was getting tighter. I tried to get my inhaler but couldn’t reach my pocket because it was jammed up tight against the back of the settee.
‘Stay calm, Keer-Ron.’
‘It’s my asthma,’ I gasped.
We heard the kitchen door bang open. Scarface swore as he tripped up on something, coming in.
He snapped the kitchen light on and started clattering about in there. He was talking to himself but his voice sounded all slurry and you couldn’t understand him.
‘He’s stoned,’ whispered Karwana.