‘For Shaka’s sake, Troy! Your car has a parking camera at the back,’ Mum ranted when I told her what had happened. ‘You just weren’t paying attention and that’s going to cost you. Don’t even think about asking me to help pay the repair bill.’
Which was exactly what I’d been about to ask her. That bill is going to put a severe dent in my savings. Plus that morning, when I’d asked Mum for a lift to school, she shook her head and said, ‘Can’t help you, honey.’
‘What about Nana Meggie? Can’t she drive me?’
‘Your nana has given up driving. Besides, I have no intention of waking her up just to suit you,’ said Mum. ‘Start walking, child. You wouldn’t want to be late, would you?’
At first I thought Mum was winding me up, but she waved her hand in front of her face and said, ‘Does it look like I’m joking? I’ve got an early meeting with a particularly obnoxious turd that I don’t want to be late for, so off you go.’
‘Who’s your meeting with then?’ I couldn’t help asking.
Mum sighed. ‘A guy I used to know back in the day. He was a piece of work then and he’s an even bigger piece of work now. He’s got something I need and it’s going to cost me to get it back.’
‘What’s he got? And cost you what?’
‘Never you mind. Hurry up and get to school.’
Mum’s gaze fell away from mine like she regretted saying as much as she had. I knew from experience I wasn’t going to get any more out of her so I chucked my rucksack over one shoulder and headed out of the door, making my way to the bus stop – just in time to see the bus drive off without me.
Like I said, a bitch of a day.
‘What’s going on between you and Libby?’ asks Ayo, walking beside me.
I frown. ‘Nothing. What makes you think otherwise?’
Ayo contemplates me like I’m under a microscope. My eyes narrow. ‘What?’
‘There’s not getting on with someone. There’s detesting someone. And then there’s what you two do,’ says Ayo. ‘Whenever you’re together, I have to break out my woolly hat and gloves ’cause the temperature drops by twenty degrees – at least.’
I shrug. ‘Pfft! Can’t get on with everyone.’
Ayo eyes me speculatively.
‘What?’ Oh my God! Ayo is beginning to work on my nerves.
‘Nothing,’ he says, when it’s obviously something. ‘It’s just that you and Libby – well, that’s a whole new level.’
‘Does it really show that much?’
‘Are you kidding me?’ Ayo scoffs, eyebrows raised.
Damn it! That’s why for the most part I try to stay away from Libby. She and I invariably rub each other up the wrong way. Antagonism crackles between us like static electricity, but I certainly don’t want to be responsible for driving Libby towards a pair of scissors or anything else with a sharp point.
‘I’m just not a fan of her and her bullshit,’ I say. ‘She can’t ever be honest, even with herself.’
That piques Ayo’s interest. ‘What d’you mean?’
‘Doesn’t matter.’ I shake my head. ‘So d’you wanna go and see the new Black Panther film this weekend?’
Ayo and I discuss the last two Black Panther movies and the forthcoming one until we reach the security gate that leads to my house. Ayo lives in the gated estate about a mile further along the same road. My house and its grounds are almost the same size as three houses where Ayo lives. Stupid, I know, but I always feel just a slight tinge of embarrassment when I reach our security gate. I love that we live in a large house and I have my own bedroom and my own activity room, but Mum has always brought me up to value and be grateful for every single thing I have.
‘Don’t get too caught up in things, Troy,’ she warned me, and more than once. ‘Things can be taken away just as easily as given to you; things can be lost as well as found, sold as well as bought, stolen as well as recovered. Measure yourself by the things you have and, if you lose it all some day, you won’t know who you are. D’you understand?’
I shook my head every time Mum asked that. I mean, why would we lose anything, or have it taken away? It makes no sense.
Ayo waves bye and peels off to continue down the road to his house. Entering the code to open the gate, I head along the driveway. Nope, tired doesn’t even begin to cover how I’m feeling. Knackered, more like! The moment I open the front door, the welcome smell of roast lamb hits me. I take a deep, appreciative breath.
‘Hey, Troy,’ Mum calls out. ‘How was your day?’
I pass the dining room on the way to the kitchen. The tablecloth has been changed and the table is laid.
‘Can I have a snack before dinner? I’m starving.’ I dump my rucksack by the door and follow Mum’s voice into the kitchen where I head straight for the fridge.
‘“Hello, Mum. How are you today? That’s a lovely dress you’re wearing,”’ Mum mocks.
I straighten up and grin at her. Actually, the dress she’s wearing does look like it was bought this century, her braided hair is loose around her shoulders and she’s wearing lipstick and stuff! She does look kinda nice. ‘Hello, Mum. How’re you today? Lovely dress you’re wearing!’
‘Don’t strain yourself, Troy,’ says Mum, unimpressed. ‘And don’t go packing your face. Dinner will be ready in an hour.’
‘Actually, you’re looking relatively reasonable,’ I say. ‘What happened? Cosmic ray?’
‘Child, you’re not too old for a spanking.’
I burst out laughing. Likely! I’m over six foot tall and Mum is five foot and a small something. ‘Mum, you’ve never spanked me in my life and you’re so anti-violence, it’s actually embarrassing.’
‘That can be rectified,’ Mum warns, though the twinkle in her eyes gives her away.
‘Yeah, right,’ I say.
I’d seen Mum get upset after inadvertently stepping on a beetle on the pavement. Any and every march for peace, love and understanding in the capital and she’s there.
I’m a PACIFIST, honey. Deal with it.
How many times had I heard that when I was growing up? Mum says she’s seen too much violence in her life to be anything else.
‘Troy, I mean it,’ Mum says with a frown. ‘Don’t go spoiling your appetite.’
‘Just have a sarnie then.’ My nose is back in the fridge.
‘No sandwich. Have some fruit, Troy, and save the textspeak for your phone. Don’t they teach pronouns at your school any more?’ Mum sighs. ‘Pronouns are friends. Don’t drop them – use and cherish them.’
I roll my eyes. Not this again! How many times have I heard this particular nag?
‘How’s the election going?’ she asks. ‘Are you winning hearts and minds? Are you setting the world to rights? Are you championing the fight for liberty and justice? Are you? Are you?’
‘Mum, d’you have to be so extra?’ My eyes roll. ‘It’s not that big a deal.’
‘Oh yes it is,’ Mum immediately contradicts. ‘It takes no work at all to sit and grumble. It takes courage to stand up and be counted. Good for you.’