pulled up outside this pretty house. The front lawn was well shaved. The white front door had gold numbers nailed into it. Twenty-three. Louise jabbed the doorbell. I can’t lie, my insides quaked. I took a few steps back. Here we go again.
The door opened. This neat-looking black woman appeared. Mid to late thirty-ish. I liked her peacock-colored earrings.
“Good to see you again,” said Colleen. “Please come in. Just boiled the kettle.”
At first, I kinda liked the idea of staying with a black family. But now I wasn’t feeling too sure.
“Naomi!” called Louise.
I stood on the spot studying Colleen for a long second before shuffling slowly toward the door. She had shoulder-length brown dreadlocks. Oh, good. Might be able to listen to some original dancehall tunes. She waved us into the house busting a grin. “What do you want to drink?” she asked. “Hot chocolate? Orange or apple juice? Coke? You hungry?”
She made me feel self-conscious. I took out my mobile although I didn’t know what to do with it. “I wanna coffee,” I replied. “Four sugars.”
“Three sugars,” cut in Louise. “Remember we made a deal?”
“But you didn’t give up the—”
“Not now,” Louise snipped my flow.
I pulled a screw you face.
“Come on then, Naomi,” said Louise. “Let’s get inside so Colleen can close the door. It’s getting a bit nippy.”
It was cold. I wanted to brag off my Grime Therapy T-shirt but I had to wear a hoodie over it.
I entered the hallway. I spotted two kids parked on the third stair. The younger one, a boy, giggled. He must’ve been Pablo. His name sounded like something you do with balloons. The older girl had her face between her hands. She must’ve been Sharyna. Pretty. She scoped my every move. I took in my surroundings. It wasn’t like my mum’s place. The amber-colored paint on the walls looked as if it had been rolled on just days ago. The hallway was grimeless and I could sniff floor polish. I didn’t recognize the black man in a framed picture with cheeks the size of melons. They needed another photograph to fit in his stretched trombone.
At the end of the hallway was the kitchen. A black man sat at the kitchen table. His shoulders were IMAX-screen broad. A tiger tattoo manned-up his forearm. I guessed he was Tony. Colleen invited Louise and me to park our butts. Tony stood up and smiled at me. One gold tooth. “Hi, my name is Tony,” he said. He reached out his hand. I looked at it like it was an escaped anaconda. My nerves spat like sausages on a too-high gas ring. I looked at his plate of dinner. I couldn’t recognize the food. Then I checked something on my phone.
Colleen reached for a biscuit tin on top of a cupboard. She took off the lid. “Anyone want a nibble?” she asked.
Louise accepted two custard creams.
“No chocolate ones?” I asked.
“Sorry, darling,” replied Colleen. “I’ll make sure I get some tomorrow.”
From a leather case, Louise took out my file. A strained elastic band held the flimsy folder and untold papers together. She slid it over to Tony, who ignored it, took a sip from his fruit drink, and introduced himself again. “Just call me Tone.”
I didn’t know what to say. Monkey on a skateboard. This is really happening. Colleen sat beside Tony. “And I’m Colleen,” she smiled. “Colleen Golding. We’re glad to have you with us.”
The Holmans said the same shit.
I glanced briefly at Colleen and then concentrated on my phone. I tried to focus on a game but it wasn’t happening.
“Sharyna! Pablo!” Colleen called out.
Pablo hot-stepped in first. He was still giggling. Then Sharyna entered the kitchen as if the world’s paparazzi were waiting for her. All nervous smiles and sideways glances. She had her arms behind her back and her chin was held high. “Hi, Naomi,” she greeted in a grown-up voice.
I busted out a smile. I loved her long braids. “You know my name,” I said. “You all right? Top ratings for your plaits.”
“Thanks,” Sharyna replied.
I think she blushed but I couldn’t quite tell.
“That’s Sharyna for you,” laughed Tony.
Louise chuckled and took another custard cream. I scoped the creases around her eyes. Some of the other kids on her files had obviously stressed her out till her balloon was about to pop.
Colleen offered me my coffee. She laughed nervously. “Your coffee all right, darling?”
I sampled it. It could’ve done with more sweetness.
“It’ll pass,” I said. “Could’ve done with a chocolate biscuit to go with it though.”
* * *
As the grown-ups chatted, sunk more biscuits, and scanned my file, I allowed Pablo and Sharyna to check out my phone. Sharyna and Pablo were then called to wash the dishes. When Pablo had dried the last one, Colleen turned to me. “Are we ready for the tour?”
A tour? The house is pretty but it’s not Buckingham Palace.
“S’pose so,” I said.
“Follow me then,” said Tony, carrying my bags.
Leaving Louise and Colleen in the kitchen, Tony led me up the stairs, followed by Sharyna and Pablo, to my room. I held on to my meerkat. Tony opened the door and I stepped in slowly. I stood for some long seconds under the doorframe. I looked at the double bed. This is new. I don’t usually get a double bed to crash out in. Tony fidgeted beside me. Sharyna and Pablo remained in the hallway.
Yeah, not too bad. I’ll see where my life rolls from here.
I went and placed my meerkat gently between the pillows. I checked out the furniture. “Where’s the telly?” I asked.
“The last girl we had staying with us didn’t watch too much telly,” explained Tony. “She read a lot of misery books.”
I stepped toward the window and peered out into the back garden. I could just about make out the shape of a shed. I thought of Dad. If he could get his life up to spec he could live in a house like this. “Do I look like I read a lot? I wanna telly.”
“Ask me like that and you won’t get it, young lady.”
I turned around. I picked up my meerkat and pressed it tight against my chest. “I want a frucking telly! What do you expect me to do when I’m up here? Play noughts and crosses on the walls?”
Sharyna and Pablo crept closer to the door. I lasered my eyes into Tony’s forehead but he must’ve had a deflective shield cos he remained calm. I heard two pairs of feet hoofing up the stairs. “You won’t get a TV if you talk to me like that,”
