said you had money for me – for when I’m eighteen.’
‘I have put aside some money, yes,’ says Danny, very slowly and carefully.
‘Give it to Mum – for Alyssa, tell her. And Spain’s no good. Can’t you send them to America?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘Florida. We always wanted to go to Florida. Disney. Alyssa would like it.’
‘I’ll talk to her. . .’
‘Yeah.’ Ty yawns. ‘You talk to her. Tell her that Alyssa needs to be safe. Florida should be OK. Maybe Emma can go too.’
‘Emma’s pretty settled in Spain. She seems to be happy with Carlos.’
‘She shouldn’t trust him,’ says Ty. ‘Get her away from him.’
‘Ty, I don’t think. . .’
Ty waves his hand to shut his dad up.
‘Don’t think. I done all the thinking. I get a lot of time to think in here.’
His voice has changed, I realise. He’s more east London. He’s got that Jamaican rhythm, his words are all vowels, it’s ‘dis’ and ‘dat’ and
‘fink’ and ‘fings’, and ‘wha’eva’. And ‘fu’’ and ‘fu’ing’, every other word.
I sometimes put on that voice as a joke – a joke about chavs and being street, a charm against getting mugged or worse. That’s the voice of the people who scare the rest of us. And
Ty does it so naturally that it’s as if it reveals the real him.
The drug-dealing him. The secret him.
‘The rest of the money, I want it – ready for when I come out, in cash. You can give it to me when I get out of here.’
‘I don’t think. . .’
Ty narrows his eyes. ‘I told you. I done all the thinking.’
‘Finkin’.’ If I listen hard enough, then I’m sure I can do this voice too.
‘You don’t have to worry about me.’
‘Ty, stop it. You’re only just sixteen, for God’s sake.’
‘I’m all grown-up.’
‘Ty,’ I say, ‘I talked to Claire.’
I’m kind of hoping he’ll have come to the same conclusion as her, i.e. they have no future, no chance, no hope and he’s not right for her, anyway.
He drops his eyes to the table. ‘What did she say?’
‘She was . . . she was upset . . . she wasn’t sure. . .’
‘Yeah.’ His voice roughens. ‘Thanks for telling her. She’s better off without me.’
Danny says, ‘You’ll be out of here soon. We’ll sort everything out. You’ll be fine.’
Ty shrugs. ‘I can look after myself.’
‘Oh yeah,’ says Danny. He’s got this talent for keeping his voice really smooth and even, although I can see he’s upset. His hand is trembling. ‘You can look after
yourself with my money. Just like you did when you got your picture in the paper? Jesus, Ty.’
‘I can look after myself whatever.’
Wha’eva
. I so could do this voice. I almost open my mouth and join in.
‘Where are you going to go? They’ll want to keep an eye on you when you come out, you know? Make sure you don’t do anything that means you have to come back and serve the rest
of your sentence. That’s assuming you manage to behave yourself for six weeks. Think you can do that? You’ve not got a great track record, have you, Ty?’
‘Better than yours.’
I’m getting a bit embarrassed now. It seems to me they’d be better doing this in private. Ty seems to be enjoying slagging his dad off in front of me. There’s a dangerous smile
on his face.
‘Whatever I’ve done, that’s gotta be better than abandoning your kid and spending a fortune on coke,’ he says.
Danny winces.
‘I’ve told you, tried to explain – addiction is an illness, not a lifestyle choice.’
‘Yeah, right.’ Ty’s voice is thick with bitterness. ‘My gran said you were a waste of space, said you were no good.’
Danny’s calm voice wavers just a little bit. ‘Yeah, well, maybe your gran didn’t always know what was best.’
‘Oh yeah?’ Ty’s voice is taunting now, twisting, setting traps, laying mines. I’m amazed that Danny can’t see it. But he goes blundering in.
‘She could have made sure that I was part of your life, Ty
‘I have put aside some money, yes,’ says Danny, very slowly and carefully.
‘Give it to Mum – for Alyssa, tell her. And Spain’s no good. Can’t you send them to America?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘Florida. We always wanted to go to Florida. Disney. Alyssa would like it.’
‘I’ll talk to her. . .’
‘Yeah.’ Ty yawns. ‘You talk to her. Tell her that Alyssa needs to be safe. Florida should be OK. Maybe Emma can go too.’
‘Emma’s pretty settled in Spain. She seems to be happy with Carlos.’
‘She shouldn’t trust him,’ says Ty. ‘Get her away from him.’
‘Ty, I don’t think. . .’
Ty waves his hand to shut his dad up.
‘Don’t think. I done all the thinking. I get a lot of time to think in here.’
His voice has changed, I realise. He’s more east London. He’s got that Jamaican rhythm, his words are all vowels, it’s ‘dis’ and ‘dat’ and
‘fink’ and ‘fings’, and ‘wha’eva’. And ‘fu’’ and ‘fu’ing’, every other word.
I sometimes put on that voice as a joke – a joke about chavs and being street, a charm against getting mugged or worse. That’s the voice of the people who scare the rest of us. And
Ty does it so naturally that it’s as if it reveals the real him.
The drug-dealing him. The secret him.
‘The rest of the money, I want it – ready for when I come out, in cash. You can give it to me when I get out of here.’
‘I don’t think. . .’
Ty narrows his eyes. ‘I told you. I done all the thinking.’
‘Finkin’.’ If I listen hard enough, then I’m sure I can do this voice too.
‘You don’t have to worry about me.’
‘Ty, stop it. You’re only just sixteen, for God’s sake.’
‘I’m all grown-up.’
‘Ty,’ I say, ‘I talked to Claire.’
I’m kind of hoping he’ll have come to the same conclusion as her, i.e. they have no future, no chance, no hope and he’s not right for her, anyway.
He drops his eyes to the table. ‘What did she say?’
‘She was . . . she was upset . . . she wasn’t sure. . .’
‘Yeah.’ His voice roughens. ‘Thanks for telling her. She’s better off without me.’
Danny says, ‘You’ll be out of here soon. We’ll sort everything out. You’ll be fine.’
Ty shrugs. ‘I can look after myself.’
‘Oh yeah,’ says Danny. He’s got this talent for keeping his voice really smooth and even, although I can see he’s upset. His hand is trembling. ‘You can look after
yourself with my money. Just like you did when you got your picture in the paper? Jesus, Ty.’
‘I can look after myself whatever.’
Wha’eva
. I so could do this voice. I almost open my mouth and join in.
‘Where are you going to go? They’ll want to keep an eye on you when you come out, you know? Make sure you don’t do anything that means you have to come back and serve the rest
of your sentence. That’s assuming you manage to behave yourself for six weeks. Think you can do that? You’ve not got a great track record, have you, Ty?’
‘Better than yours.’
I’m getting a bit embarrassed now. It seems to me they’d be better doing this in private. Ty seems to be enjoying slagging his dad off in front of me. There’s a dangerous smile
on his face.
‘Whatever I’ve done, that’s gotta be better than abandoning your kid and spending a fortune on coke,’ he says.
Danny winces.
‘I’ve told you, tried to explain – addiction is an illness, not a lifestyle choice.’
‘Yeah, right.’ Ty’s voice is thick with bitterness. ‘My gran said you were a waste of space, said you were no good.’
Danny’s calm voice wavers just a little bit. ‘Yeah, well, maybe your gran didn’t always know what was best.’
‘Oh yeah?’ Ty’s voice is taunting now, twisting, setting traps, laying mines. I’m amazed that Danny can’t see it. But he goes blundering in.
‘She could have made sure that I was part of your life, Ty
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