not exactly sure yet,’ I said. My face felt as red as my boots. ‘I don’t really have a story. I just film stuff.’
‘What sort of stuff ?’
My toes wiggled uncomfortably. ‘Just stuff around here. The Coronation Road, the Starfish Estate. Inner-city kids living in parallel universes. That kind of thing.’
‘Right,’ he said, looking at me curiously for a second. ‘Um – why?’
I scrunched up my toes some more. If I told him the whole story, I’d have to tell him about my mum, and about dad leaving and everything. So I just said, ‘I don’t know really. It’s just what there is around here.’
He grinned again unexpectedly. I figured if anyone’d been filming us right then we’d have looked an odd couple. Then he said something else I wasn’t expecting. ‘I could help, you know?’
I tried not to look as freaked out as I felt when I said, ‘Really?’ But I don’t think I exactly managed it.
‘Yeah. I like stories. Words, you know? Maybe I could help with that bit.’
‘Right,’ I said, chewing my lip some more.
‘And my mum said to keep out of trouble,’ he went on. ‘So maybe I can help you keep out of trouble too? Cos, you know, it’s really not a good idea to go around filming guys like Shiv.’ His eyes clouded a little as he said the last bit.
The Tippex faces on the toes of my boots seemed to wink up at me. ‘My dad reckons filming keeps me out of mischief,’ I said.
And I remembered the ‘chat’ we had on the day he walked out. ‘Keep filming. Keep out of mischief. Look after your mother for me,’ he’d said, like he was just going away on holiday, not leaving us for good. Then he’d given me one of his big hugs and walked out of the door.
‘Yeah?’ the New Kid said, giving me a funny look like he was trying to read the thoughts in my head. ‘Well, maybe we can do it together. Look out for each other, you know? And make a movie at the same time.’
I looked really hard at him, disbelieving suddenly. Why did someone like him want to hang out with me? ‘Seriously?’
‘Sure,’ he said. ‘You do the pictures, I do the words and we both do the film-star bit!’
I smiled and twisted my fingers tightly round the camera. The sun was shining on the New Kid’s face, making his chocolate skin glow and his Afro hair look like a halo round his head.
‘So what’s your name, director girl?’ he asked.
‘Maggie,’ I said. Then I added quickly, ‘Only that’s not my real name.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘OK . . . um, what’s your real name then?’
‘Emmeline Margaret,’ I said quickly. ‘My mum thought I might be the pioneering type. You know, like Margaret Thatcher or Emmeline Pankhurst, the suffragette lady. Only nobody’s ever called me that. They just call me Maggie.’
‘Right. Well, Maggie’s a good name. Suits you.’
‘Thanks,’ I nodded.
‘I’m Tokes,’ he said. ‘Just Tokes.’
And then the New Kid – who was called Tokes, just Tokes – smiled. And I think maybe that’s when we first became friends.
‘You are so dead!’
We both turned round and there was Little Pea, scrambling out from behind a load of wheelie bins and skipping towards us across the concrete. He had a brand-new black eye, but he was grinning widely. When he reached us, he did a little ballet hop then jumped to a standstill in front of our bench.
‘Seriously, you pair is already in body bags, innit!’ he squeaked with a flick of his head like he was performing a girl-band dance routine.
‘Right,’ said Tokes as Pea jiggled on the spot in front of us. ‘And there’s me thinking you’d come to thank me for saving your skin yesterday! How did you even find us?’
Pea giggled and flicked his head again, but didn’t answer Tokes’s question. ‘Like I’m gonna thank you for jumpin’ off a cliff an’ takin’ me wit’ you,’ he said, talking in his too-loud, too-fast, little-kid voice.
I looked at his black eye and wondered if any of the things I’d heard about him were true – the stuff about the jungle magic and juju and his mum trying to beat the devil out of him in church.
‘Your girlfrien’ tell you who you mess wit’ yesterday, man?’ Pea was saying, nodding and winking in my direction.
‘She’s not my girlfriend,’ said Tokes, shooting me a quick look.
‘If you say so!’ Little Pea just winked at me again and said, ‘Anyways, she probably already tell you that you nearly got me killed wit’ your meddlin’.’
‘Way I remember it, I rescued you from Shiv,’ said Tokes. He spoke differently when he was talking to Pea. He sounded more, I dunno, like a kid from the streets rather than a guy who read piles of books in a library.
‘I had it all under control!’ said Pea breezily.
‘Sure you did, kid,’ said Tokes.
‘Hey! Who you callin’ kid?’ Pea was still grinning like a maniac, and pretending to punch the air like a boxer. He seemed to be totally enjoying this. ‘Don’t you know to judge a man by his shoe size, an’ these takkies tell you I twelve years old, man. Nearly a teenager me, innit.’
Tokes raised an eyebrow in surprise as Pea waggled his fake Nikes in the air, but he said nothing.
‘How old is you anyway, alien boy?’ demanded Little Pea.
‘I’m fifteen,’ said Tokes. ‘And I’m no alien.’
‘Well, you like an alien in this hood, bruv!’ said Pea. ‘Anyone can see that. An’ you gonna get yourself killed too if you keep takin’ on da locals. Which hood you from anyway?’
‘None of your business,’ said Tokes quickly. Too quickly, just like he’d jumped down my throat earlier when I’d asked the same question.
‘Hey, don’t go chewin’ my head off, space boy!’
‘Tokes,’ I said quietly.
‘You what?’ said Pea, turning to me again with a funny little head movement. Honestly, I’d never seen a kid as fidgety as he was. Like a toddler, or a dog with fleas. ‘You say summat, posh girl?’
‘His name is Tokes,’ I said. ‘And I’m Maggie.’
Little Pea gave us each a look then folded up with giggles. His laugh was high-pitched, like a little girl’s. ‘An’ I’m Little Pea, es-quire,
