* * *
After I washed up my stuff and wiped the kitchen table clean, Colleen drove me to the supermarket. I didn’t like the old-school music she played in her ride but I kept my gums on hold. When I get to know her better I’ll educate her in all things grime.
I did most of the shopping, picking out yogurts, biscuits, crumpets, microwave meals, and fizzy drinks. I didn’t wanna be rude but I gave funny looks at the ackee, black-eyed peas, and red kidney beans tins that Colleen collected. Following lunch at a Chinese restaurant where I oinked out with spring rolls and special fried rice, Colleen hot-wheeled me home and started braiding my hair in front of the TV in the lounge. I watched a music channel.
“Looking forward to going back to school on Monday?” Colleen asked.
“No, I’m not,” I replied. “And it’s not a school. It’s a Pupils Referral Unit for kids who’ve been expelled or have issues—that’s how they talk. We don’t have problems, we have issues. Sometimes there are more staff there than kids. Doesn’t stop the fist-offs though.”
“Why don’t you like your, er, unit?”
“Most of the other girls don’t like me.” I wasn’t lying.
“Can’t believe that’s true,” Colleen said.
More social wanker speak.
“It is!” I raised my voice. “The only two who chat to me are Kim and Nats. Kim’s mum had issues with drugs you get from the chemist. You know, those pills to help you when your balloon’s about to pop and those ones that help you sleep. They frucked her up big-time. If it was Monday, she’d think it was Saturday.”
“Language, Naomi.”
“Sorry . . . and Nats was raped by the son of her dad’s girlfriend.”
I felt Colleen’s fingers stiffen. She full-stopped for the longest time. “That’s terrible,” she said.
“Yeah. And what’s more, Nats’s family didn’t believe her. They’re corner-of-the-curb dickheads.”
“Swearing, Naomi.”
“Sorry.”
“Sometimes people cannot help the way they behave,” Colleen said. “Circumstances and background have a lot to do with it.”
“I haven’t got any issues or circum-whatsits,” I said. “I’m normal.”
“Of course you are,” Colleen said.
“D’you think bruvs will like my braids? I bet Kim’s gonna be jealous. It’ll kill her if peeps looked at me more than her.”
“They shouldn’t be interested in you just because of your hairstyle, Naomi.”
“The black girls in my unit take it double serious. Always talking about hair, they are. I think Nats wears a wig or some kind of . . . what d’you call it?”
“Extensions?” suggested Colleen.
“They call it a weave but it looks like a wig thing to me,” I said. “It came off in a fist-off once—some new girl was cussing off Kim at the unit. Nats went cadazy. It was a shock to me cos before that Nats was as quiet as a ballet dancer’s tiptoe.”
“Quiet ones bottle it all in,” Colleen said.
“They took us swimming last year but none of the black girls went. They were shitting themselves about the chlorine polluting their hair. In fact, the only time you can split Nats and Kim up is when her key worker takes her out to get her hair done.”
“I was no different when I was young,” Colleen said. “I obsessed about having the biggest Afro—”
“Hold on a sec,” I blocked her flow.
I hot-toed into the hallway and looked at myself in the mirror hanging from the wall. I lifted one of my braids and twirled it around my index finger. Too cool. I busted out a grin before skipping back to the lounge. “Double thanks for this,” I said. “You’re a legend. How long will it take to finish it?”
“Another couple of hours or so. I think it looks cute.”
“It does,” I smiled. “Bruvs will love it. Wish I had longer legs though, and my tits could be bigger. They’re not as big as Kim’s, which is weird cos she’s skinnier than me. Anyway, by the time I kiss fifteen they’ll have ripened a bit and I’ll be able to get myself a decent bruv—someone who’s oil-slick and acne free.”
Two and a half hours later, Colleen had almost completed my hair. The sound of a key crunching in the front door was a cue for Colleen to relax her fingers. “That’s Tony dropping off Sharyna and Pablo,” she said. “He’s picking up some stuff for his work but he’ll be home soon. I better get the dinner on. Can I finish up later?”
I nodded. “Thanks again.”
Sharyna and Pablo bounced into the lounge. “Uniform off,” Colleen ordered. “Get out your homework if you have any.”
Ignoring their mum, Sharyna and Pablo checked out my hair. “Cool,” said Sharyna. “It looks great.”
Goodness flowed though me.
“Thanks,” I said.
Pablo circled me twice. He looked confused.
“What do you think, Pablo?” Colleen asked.
Pablo didn’t answer. He lapped around me and scoped me as if I’d grown another head. The laces on both of his shoes were undone. The tail of his shirt covered his backside and he had blue crayon stains on his cuffs.
“Well?” I said. “What ratings do I get?”
Pablo laughed, placed his hand over his mouth, and laughed again. He took his hand away from his face and asked, “Are white girls allowed to have plaits?”
“Of course they are,” smiled Colleen.
Sharyna laughed but I couldn’t help wondering what older black girls would think of my braids.
* * *
A long session of playing Connect Four with Pablo later, Colleen served up a strange dinner of grilled chicken, rice, yams, cabbage, green bananas, and carrots. It definitely didn’t look like the casserole that I had cooked for my dad. Napkins were neatly laid on the table. This is all new. I picked mine up and pushed it inside the collar of my Rihanna T-shirt. Pablo grinned but Sharyna kept a square face. Tony and Colleen swapped glances. I had on my plate chicken, cabbage, and carrots, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the green bananas. They didn’t look green to me.
“You boil bananas?” I asked.
“They’re not like yellow bananas,” explained Tony. “It’s not a fruit. It’s a vegetable.”
“They look the same to me,” I said. “I usually have them sliced in custard. I used to make it for my dad. He loved it. But this looks . . . now don’t get offended . . . all wrong.”
“Try it,” said Colleen.
I studied it again. Steam came out of it. I’m not gonna put my taste buds through mad agonies.
“Sorry,” I said. “Don’t wanna offend but it’s not for me.”
Pablo giggled. Sharyna glanced at him and she caught the chuckle bug.
“Nomi, you must eat your vegetables,” Pablo said in a squeaky tone.
All eyes on me. I stood up, collected a serving fork, and skewered one. I dropped it onto my plate and cut off a small piece. I picked it up with my fork and brought it up to eye level. I put it inside my gob and chewed. I thought about it and munched again. I looked to the left and then to the right. “It’s kinda hard,”