Chika.
‘Danny.’ She takes a step forward.
‘On your own?’ The man called Danny speaks without removing his fag, so that his words come out in a rush of white smoke.
‘I’m with one of my homies,’ Chika nods at Demi.
Demi feels a thrill at hearing herself described that way, but it’s short lived as the man looks in her direction. Something in the way Chika is standing, all stiff, tells her to be very wary.
‘What you called?’ the man asks.
Demi watches the ash on the end of his cigarette move up and down, getting longer and longer. It’s going to drop if he doesn’t flick it.
‘Her name’s Demi,’ says Chika. ‘She don’t say much.’
‘Come ’ere,’ says the man.
Demi daren’t move. She feels like she’s been glued to the spot.
The man drops his voice. ‘I said come ’ere.’
Chika nods and Demi forces herself forwards. When she’s a foot from the window, the man removes his cigarette and throws it at her feet. She watches it roll into the gutter. As the smoke clears she can make out more of the man. He’s almost as dark as Gran and wears a thick gold chain with a crucifix that glints against his skin.
After a second, she can fully take him in and she gasps. The left side of his face shows he is a handsome man, but the right side bears a scar from the edge of his hairline to his chin, dissecting his eyebrow along the way. In his right eye socket his eye is nothing more than a milky white marble.
‘You don’t find me pretty?’ the man laughs, but it sounds cold and harsh.
Demi doesn’t know what to say. She realizes her hand is covering her mouth.
‘You don’t want to stroke my handsome face?’
‘Come on Danny,’ Chika interrupts. ‘Leave her be.’
He glares at Chika, his dead eye boring into her.
‘She’s just a younger,’ says Chika. ‘She don’t know nothing yet.’
The man turns back to Demi, making her shudder. Demi is terrified he’ll ask another question. At last he nods, as if accepting what Chika says, and Demi feels relief flood through her. She wishes she could sit down.
‘Babylon crawling all over the estates,’ the man says to Chika.
She bends down at the waist so her face is level with his. ‘It’s because of what happened to Malaya.’
Demi is surprised to hear her sister’s name.
‘It’s very bad for business,’ says the man.
Chika nods. ‘It’ll soon blow over. You know how it is, man.’
‘Not this time,’ he says. ‘Papers, politicians, they all looking for someone to be locked up.’
Chika leans her arm on the top of the car, but the man lets out a low growl and she removes it.
‘This is a bad mess,’ he says. ‘A very bad mess.’
‘I’ll sort it,’ says Chika.
The man puts another cigarette between his lips and pulls out a lighter. He shields the flame with his hands and lights up. He breathes in and out until his face is once again shrouded.
‘No more fuck-ups, Chika.’
Then the electric window rises and the car pulls away.
Karol peeped his head around Lilly’s office door.
‘There’s someone to see you.’
Lilly frowned. There were no appointments in the diary.
‘She says it will only take a moment,’ said Karol with a smile. ‘I think you might be interested.’
In reception, Annabelle had taken a seat, most of her face hidden by a bouquet of flowers. Tanisha was by her side, engrossed with her phone.
When she saw Lilly, Annabelle jumped up. ‘These are for you.’
The flowers were exquisite. Tiger lilies held together in an organza bow.
‘These are beautiful,’ Lilly gasped.
‘A small thank you,’ said Annabelle. ‘Since we were passing.’
Lilly held them to her face and took in the perfume. Representing children in care had not involved many gifts over the years. A grunted acknowledgement was as good as it got.
‘We know you weren’t keen to take on Tanisha’s case and we want you to know how much we appreciate it,’ said Annabelle. ‘Don’t we,
‘Danny.’ She takes a step forward.
‘On your own?’ The man called Danny speaks without removing his fag, so that his words come out in a rush of white smoke.
‘I’m with one of my homies,’ Chika nods at Demi.
Demi feels a thrill at hearing herself described that way, but it’s short lived as the man looks in her direction. Something in the way Chika is standing, all stiff, tells her to be very wary.
‘What you called?’ the man asks.
Demi watches the ash on the end of his cigarette move up and down, getting longer and longer. It’s going to drop if he doesn’t flick it.
‘Her name’s Demi,’ says Chika. ‘She don’t say much.’
‘Come ’ere,’ says the man.
Demi daren’t move. She feels like she’s been glued to the spot.
The man drops his voice. ‘I said come ’ere.’
Chika nods and Demi forces herself forwards. When she’s a foot from the window, the man removes his cigarette and throws it at her feet. She watches it roll into the gutter. As the smoke clears she can make out more of the man. He’s almost as dark as Gran and wears a thick gold chain with a crucifix that glints against his skin.
After a second, she can fully take him in and she gasps. The left side of his face shows he is a handsome man, but the right side bears a scar from the edge of his hairline to his chin, dissecting his eyebrow along the way. In his right eye socket his eye is nothing more than a milky white marble.
‘You don’t find me pretty?’ the man laughs, but it sounds cold and harsh.
Demi doesn’t know what to say. She realizes her hand is covering her mouth.
‘You don’t want to stroke my handsome face?’
‘Come on Danny,’ Chika interrupts. ‘Leave her be.’
He glares at Chika, his dead eye boring into her.
‘She’s just a younger,’ says Chika. ‘She don’t know nothing yet.’
The man turns back to Demi, making her shudder. Demi is terrified he’ll ask another question. At last he nods, as if accepting what Chika says, and Demi feels relief flood through her. She wishes she could sit down.
‘Babylon crawling all over the estates,’ the man says to Chika.
She bends down at the waist so her face is level with his. ‘It’s because of what happened to Malaya.’
Demi is surprised to hear her sister’s name.
‘It’s very bad for business,’ says the man.
Chika nods. ‘It’ll soon blow over. You know how it is, man.’
‘Not this time,’ he says. ‘Papers, politicians, they all looking for someone to be locked up.’
Chika leans her arm on the top of the car, but the man lets out a low growl and she removes it.
‘This is a bad mess,’ he says. ‘A very bad mess.’
‘I’ll sort it,’ says Chika.
The man puts another cigarette between his lips and pulls out a lighter. He shields the flame with his hands and lights up. He breathes in and out until his face is once again shrouded.
‘No more fuck-ups, Chika.’
Then the electric window rises and the car pulls away.
Karol peeped his head around Lilly’s office door.
‘There’s someone to see you.’
Lilly frowned. There were no appointments in the diary.
‘She says it will only take a moment,’ said Karol with a smile. ‘I think you might be interested.’
In reception, Annabelle had taken a seat, most of her face hidden by a bouquet of flowers. Tanisha was by her side, engrossed with her phone.
When she saw Lilly, Annabelle jumped up. ‘These are for you.’
The flowers were exquisite. Tiger lilies held together in an organza bow.
‘These are beautiful,’ Lilly gasped.
‘A small thank you,’ said Annabelle. ‘Since we were passing.’
Lilly held them to her face and took in the perfume. Representing children in care had not involved many gifts over the years. A grunted acknowledgement was as good as it got.
‘We know you weren’t keen to take on Tanisha’s case and we want you to know how much we appreciate it,’ said Annabelle. ‘Don’t we,
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