‘Where is it?’ said Manus.
It was there, but it was gone. It was a patch of dirt on the pavement with strands of hair in it.
‘There,’ I said.
Everyone looked. The stain was wet where water dripped down the wall of the tunnel. A train went over and made us get out, rumbling over the walls and shaking the ground under our feet. Only Connor stayed behind, looking down at the pavement where the woman froze, ignoring us and the weight of the train passing. He looked up at me and put out his chin, ‘That’s where the woman fell asleep? On the ground?’
I shrugged, because maybe she was on blankets.
‘Let’s go home,’ Busola said.
‘Don’t tell Mummy you saw it,’ said Manus, looking at her.
‘I didn’t see anything,’ she said, and looked at me. ‘How do I know you’re not lying?’
‘Why would he?’ Connor said, coming up. ‘Anyway, you can see the hair on the pavement.’
‘He’s not good enough to lie like that,’ Manus said as well.
Busola poked me with her finger, ‘You said they were gonna clear it all out, but they didn’t, did they?’
‘You said you didn’t see,’ Manus said, ‘but you did.’
‘I don’t want to see dead tramps,’ she said.
‘But you did,’ Manus said. ‘What you gonna do about it?’
We went quiet for a bit, looking back into the tunnel. It felt cold and empty. A train was going over the other way, like you couldn’t sleep under there even to be out the rain it was so loud. There was a patch of sky through to the buildings on the other side. You could see traffic passing along the embankment.
‘What if one of us dies,’ Manus said.
‘Why would we?’ said Busola.
We looked at Manus. He was screwing up his eyes into the tunnel like he was seeing it mist up in a fog and dead people come out and get him. He was shivering.
‘What’s wrong?’ Connor said.
‘I don’t want to die with everyone looking,’ and a look came over Manus’s face that was disgusted.
Busola looked at me again, ‘I think it’s you’re the one playing with matches.’
‘It wasn’t me,’ I said.
‘Was it nice?’ She was being horrible. ‘Or was it an accident?’
‘Let’s go home,’ Manus said. ‘Before Daddy gets back.’
I walked behind everyone. Busola was trying to blame me. My face was hot and I felt upset. I shouldn’t have told her. Manus was saying Mummy would tell Daddy and he’d smack us for looking at dead people, so she shouldn’t tell anyone. I only told Busola because I couldn’t hold it on my own. And it wasn’t me playing with matches, it was Manus, but he told me not to say anything.
‘What did the policeman say?’ Connor said again.
‘That I couldn’t be Mummy’s because I was black,’ I said.
‘Because you’re adopted,’ Busola said.
‘No, I’m not.’
‘And what did Danny’s mum say?’ Manus asked.
‘She said he was a bully, and he pushed me.’
‘Where did you get all those bruises from?’ I looked at Busola and didn’t answer. ‘You’re just trying to get attention,’ she said.
‘Go inside if you’re gonna cry about it.’ Connor slipped his bum off the windowsill and spat in the road. We were locked out, it was getting dark and no one was home. We couldn’t go anywhere. Busola ignored him and looked off up the road with her thumb in her mouth. Only Manus and Connor could get up on the ledge of the windowsill, me and Busola had to lean back against it to get out the way of people going past in the street.
‘Where’s Mummy?’ she said.
‘You’re gonna tell her,’ said Manus, ‘and get us all in trouble.’
She looked up at Connor, ‘I don’t have to do what you say.’
He jeered at her and climbed back on the windowsill, ‘You’ve got nowhere to go,’ he said. ‘I can go tomorrow.’
My back jerked up sharp against the ledge. It hurt and there were blind spots in front of my eyes again. It got in the way of faces when I tried to look at them. I stared down until it went away.
‘What’s wrong with you?’ Manus said.
I shook my head, and looked up at Connor. He was looking down the street at the lights and the cars on the main road. The back of my shoulder was stinging from the scrape and there was a tingle down my back where it felt wet. Our mum should have come back from the shops by now, we didn’t know where our dad was and none of the lodgers were in. Manus should have had his key but he kept losing it. We weren’t supposed to be out so late. He said it was in the pocket of his other trousers, and Busola said he had holes in them.
‘Where you gonna go?’ I said.
‘You can’t come,’ Connor said, not even looking at me. I followed where he was looking down to the main road. Our dad was coming up the street on the other side from the corner, and he could see us.
‘What’s going on?’
‘We’re waiting for Mummy to come home,’ Manus said.
‘You don’t have your key?’
Manus shrugged with his hands in his pockets and looked down. My dad shook his head and opened the door. The house was dark, and the light in the hall wasn’t working. The radio was on in Mr Ajani’s room at the back on the ground floor and the stairs shook as we stumbled up in the dark.
My dad turned on the light in the front room and lit the paraffin stove, telling us to keep on our coats till it warmed up. He sent Connor to the kitchen to make tea and told Manus to go to the bedroom to look for the key and bring it. ‘What are all of you doing outside?’ he said to me and Busola.
Busola looked at me. ‘Waiting for Mummy,’ I said. He looked at me and then at her. ‘Down by the railway,’ she said.
‘All of you?’ She nodded. He looked at me. ‘So you are feeling better?’ I nodded. ‘And you want to drag people back to the scene of the crime?’
I was in trouble. Maybe I talked in my sleep. Maybe Busola already told him. Maybe he always knew. He stopped me working it out by telling me to take money off the sideboard and go to the shop to buy my own Lucozade because I was well enough.
I passed the bedroom door, it was open and through the crack I saw Manus standing on his own looking out the window. Connor was in the kitchen as I went down the stairs, trying to get the gas to light with the safety stick. There was the smell of gas as he went on clicking and didn’t notice me.
I pulled the front door shut and ran to the shop. It felt like everything was going to explode and I was running away. I could feel the hot shiver down my back and I had an empty feeling in my stomach. The scrape down my back was still stinging. I clenched the money in my hand so it hurt and held on to the hope of Mummy coming back. I slowed down to give her time, and tried to slow down the cars going past on the main road by going as slowly as I could along the kerb. The rush of wind past my shoulder made me jump back on to the pavement as a bus pulled into the stop.
There was no one behind the counter in the shop. I stood with the bottle of Lucozade wrapped up in its orange plastic for as long and as quietly as I could until the lady came out from the back and took the money. I had trouble letting go my fist to give it to her and one of the pennies fell on the floor.
‘You all right?’ she said.
I nodded and felt myself gulp as I picked it up. My hand was shaking. She took it from me and looked with her head on one side, ‘That for you?’
‘Yes,’ I said.
She picked up a Black Jack, gave it to me and said, ‘Look after yourself.’
I was folding the wrapper and sucking the sweet when the drunk man shouldered open the door of the off-licence. He had a bottle in one hand and was leaning over on his crutch. The knot in his trouser leg was swinging under him with the effort of elbowing his way out the door. There were dark rings round his eyes and his broken nose made his face look flat and heavy as he leaned over and saw me. He fumbled with trying to put the bottle into the pocket of his overcoat and stand up straight. I could feel the trickle of liquorice in my throat and I kept moving. He fell over holding the bottle up in the air as the crutch went out from under him. People were coming to the door of the off-licence to help, but he sat up on one arm and watched me walk away. He wanted to talk to me and I wanted to run. His eyes looked black and scared. They followed me like they knew who I was. Someone spoke to him, he looked down at his leg, and I turned and ran.
Everyone was waiting when I got back. Manus hadn’t found the key and my dad was telling him off. Busola was sitting up on the sofa not looking at anybody and Connor came in behind me after opening the door with his jaw set for trouble. My dad made us all sit down on the sofa and made Busola move up. He looked at all of us and said, ‘Busola, where have you been?’
She didn’t look up, but we could see he’d got it out of her. ‘Nowhere,’ she said.
‘Down by the railway. And what were you doing there?’
‘Playing,’ she said.
‘That’s a lie,’ and no one moved. I was still holding the bottle of Lucozade on my lap and looked at my orange fingers through the cellophane. I thought it might shield me that I’d been ill and he’d sent me out to go and get it. ‘I’m talking to all of you,’ he said. ‘Something has changed. Your mother is in the hospital. When she comes back, I don’t want any of you troubling her.’
I didn’t see how it was a lie that we were down by the railway arches, or what it meant that our mum wasn’t at the shops but up the hospital. I wanted to know when she was coming back. We hadn’t had supper. Manus was scratching at the eczema on his forearm and Busola was holding on to him with her thumb in her mouth.
‘What’s wrong with her?’ Connor said, and my dad looked at him but didn’t say anything.
We waited, and I thought my dad was gonna tell him off, but he didn’t, he just went on looking at all of us with his eyes shiny under his glasses.
Connor put his head down, the way the man looked down at his leg where he’d fallen, like he didn’t know where the ground was – but I pulled away from looking because I was scared if I thought about the man he’d find me. My dad pulled off his glasses, wiped his eyes and put them on again.
‘This is serious,’ he said. ‘I can’t stop what’s going to happen.’ His face wasn’t telling us what he meant, everyone was looking at him to see what he’d say. ‘From now on she will have to be coming and going to the hospital. But please, don’t go under those railway tunnels. It’s not safe. I don’t want police to bang on the door and tell me something has happened.’ None of us said anything, so his voice got harder, ‘What do you want down there?’ He looked at me. ‘Playing what?’ I was frightened he was going to tell me I was bad, it was me who took Busola down and showed her the stain on the pavement. But he didn’t, he looked at Busola and said, ‘You are playing with fire. It’s those people – drunk and fighting – out of control – living down there. And you–’ He was looking at Manus. ‘You don’t know any better?’
Manus had nowhere to go. He couldn’t hide behind us because he was the eldest, it was his fault. He hung his head down and the tears fell one by one on his lap because you weren’t allowed to cry when you were being told off.
‘You have to go down there? You don’t know police are watching you?’
I thought he was going to be telling him off, but he picked Manus up and walked over to the window, swaying and rocking him like he was little and it was just the two of them holding on to each other, Manus crying and my dad whispering in his ear and lifting open the curtain. It was black outside and they reflected back in the glass, from a time before I was born, when it was just them, holding on, waiting for Mummy to come home.
‘What you tell him?’ Connor said.
‘Nothing.’ It was Busola, stung from being told she was lying and all because of us telling her not to say. ‘I only told Susan.’
‘What did she say?’ Connor said, turning over to go to sleep. We were whispering because our mum came back while our dad was making us brush our teeth, and he put us all to bed quickly because it was late. We could hear them moving about upstairs. Manus was awake but he wasn’t saying anything.
‘She can smell the gas, she says stop playing with matches.’
‘Tell her to mind her own business,’ Connor said.
I was sharing the bottom bunk with Busola because it was warmer and I didn’t want to be on top on my own, but her feet kept digging into me. I tried to kick her off and she said, ‘Go up the top if you don’t like it.’
‘You go,’ I said.
‘It’s all your fault.’
‘Shut up, you two,’ Manus said. ‘Go to sleep.’
Busola lifted her head off the pillow in the dark to look at me from the other end of the bed. ‘Your fault,’ she said, just moving her lips.
‘Who says?’ I whispered.
‘Susan.’
Susan was a girl who lived in the house before us. She only spoke to Busola, so it was just Busola saying worse things than she normally said. I wasn’t frightened, but Manus got up on one arm, got out of bed and went over to the window. I knew it was Manus in the dark but I felt there was someone else in the room. I pulled the covers over my head and hid, but Busola farted and I had to come up for air. I couldn’t see Manus and the top of my head was cold.
‘When you saw that woman dead’ – it was Manus in the corner, twisting into the curtains and only his face showing – ‘was it like the girl who jumped?’ I shrugged but I don’t know if he saw me because he said, ‘Was it an accident?’
‘She jumped,’ Connor said.
‘The woman didn’t wake up,’ said Busola, putting her cold feet on me, ‘because she froze to death.’
I was gonna fight her off, but we heard the front door bang open and Marie come in crying downstairs, with her mum and dad arguing.
Manus span out the curtains and giggled. Busola got up and ran over to the door to listen. Connor sat up in bed.
It was too much for me. They argued all the time. I stayed where I was and tried not to listen to Marie’s dad shouting about the broken light bulb and the noise of the radio, and her mum telling him to keep his voice down. His voice swayed about anyway like he was at sea, but she told him he was drunk and legless, she was wasting her time. He said he should have been a – it sounded like honey-man – what was he doing married? She told him he was a ne’er-do-well, and she’d only herself to blame. He could go back to Guyana, he said, and get twenty of her for nothing. Who had the keys? Marie sobbed, they were waking everybody up, and she wanted to go to sleep. He had them when he opened the front door, her mum said, and if she had her time again she wouldn’t go anywhere near a West Indian fella, she shouldn’t have listened to him. The arguing moved into the room downstairs, the door closed so you couldn’t hear it, and everyone drifted back to bed.
I lay there with my eyes closed trying not to think about being legless, or the man falling over at the off-licence. But what if he couldn’t get up? What could he do with only one leg? I tried to keep away from thinking about him and get to sleep. But he knew where I lived. I told myself not to dream and pulled the covers tight. He might get Busola first. If he got in the room there was Manus, Connor was snoring. I hadn’t told them about him. I only told them about the ambulance, the woman with yellow eyes, the police car smoking up in the tunnel before they came out and got me. I told them about the policeman in charge saying they were going to clear everything out the tunnel. But I left out about the man sobbing on the back seat beside me, the other policeman punching him and slapping me, the feeling when the red blotches came that he was going to kill me – or that it was the man with the leg missing who stopped it by being there. I cut the man out and kept him to myself. I kept looking at the dark marbles where his eyes should be, the muddy flap of his trouser leg, the way it was too late when I tried to reach him and say sorry. I could see the red of his skin, the black grit inside it, the dirty cracks in his fingernails. There was the mouldy smell, the streaks of tears, the long sobs echoing in the tunnel, all the reasons I should be scared, but instead I was feeling empty. I didn’t help him. Then another thing came back to me, the taste in my mouth of liquorice, sticking to my teeth and dribbling on to my tongue as I went past the off-licence and didn’t stop. I took a deep breath and shuddered, as though he was inside me and I’d swallowed him whole.