Well, what a weird day today has turned out to be.
Nothing like I’d figured it out.
I went round to Uma’s and told her what I was up to and I’d expected her to be all “Whatever” but she wasn’t, she was proper upset.
“Bloody hell, mate,” Uma said, “Me and Zeus will miss you rotten, won’t we, Zeus? What we going to do without Shiraz Bailey Wood? You’re the only person in Essex that don’t think I’m a one-woman crime wave!”
“No I’m not, Uma,” I said. “Not anymore.”
Uma says she’ll come and visit me and Carrie in London. She says she’s looking into training to be a dealer in a casino. Y’know something? I think she’ll do OK.
The person I was really dreading telling was Ms. Bracket. I was proper bricking it as I knocked on her office door. Then she opened it with a big smile on her face and said, “So you’ve heard!” and I said, “Heard what?!” And she said, “You’re talking to the new Mayflower Academy headmistress! Mr. Bamblebury has announced his retirement!” and I said, “Oh my God!!”
Of course, what I was going to tell her then seemed really bad. But she was sort of OK really. She listened proper carefully to what I said about my dreams, then she said, “Do you know, Shiraz, if you’re so determined to see the world outside Goodmayes, I can’t really stand in your way. But you know you can come back here and carry on with A2-Levels if it doesn’t work out, don’t you?”
“Can I?” I said.
And she looks at me and says, “Well, I suppose I can have a word with my boss… no, hang on… I am the boss! Yes! Of course I’ll have you back. You’re the legendary Shiraz Bailey Wood.”
So I left Mayflower Academy and I went and met Carrie in Mr. Yolk. I walked through the door and Mario goes, “Hello, Shirelle! Your little friend with all the surprise eyes and mouth like a bee stung her face is here! She’s in the corner!”
And there was Carrie, sitting with the newspaper, opened at the “Apartments for Rent” section going, “’Ere Shiz, do you fancy Camden or Knightsbridge? North, south or central?” I grinned and sat down. Then my phone bleeped in my pocket.
It was a text message from Wesley Barrington Bains II. It said:
IF U NEED A LIFT WITH UR STUFF OR ANYTHING AT ALL—GIVE ME A SHOUT. I’LL ALWAYS BE HERE. W-B-B II XXX
I looked at it and my eyes began to sting a bit, but I pulled myself together quickly.
“Oh, look at you two!” Mario was laughing, bringing us both a coffee. “Look at you, Shirelle! With all your gold on! Your hoops and your bracelets and your hoodie! You make me smile! You and your little friend! Always look like you’re up to something! What you up to today then? Up to no bloody good!”
“You’re not wrong, Mario,” I said and took a swig of my coffee, got out a pen, and began circling ads for apartments.
I am the master of my own destiny, after all.