Black Sheep (24 page)

The taxi ride from Ladbroke Grove to North London was long but made longer by Victoria’s too-loud voice, singing along to the silent sound of her iPod earphones. She was
always a handful when she got high. She thought it made her cute and carefree but I found her loud and over-excited, difficult to get through to.

Besides, I wasn’t really in a party mood. I’d agreed to come because I really wanted to see this side of Dwayne, his creative, artistic side, his public persona – but I had a
bad feeling. I couldn’t explain it. Things had been so wonderful once Mum and Dad had agreed to give me some space – but now they had become complicated again.

Why did Dwayne have to go and accept Islam – and why did he expect me to follow him? I thought we had dealt with the street stuff, with the lack of ambition, with his insensitivity towards
my feelings and points of view. We worked through all that, and now this!

Deep down I knew, like I had always known, that Dee was a really great guy. But I couldn’t help feeling that his choices were dragging him down, away from me, away from achieving his full
potential, away from where I wanted him to be – where I needed him to be.

“What makes Dwayne think I have the remotest interest in becoming a Muslim?” I had raged at Aalia that day at school. “If he thinks he’s going to get me hiding behind a
scarf, chained to the kitchen sink with ten children, he’s got another think coming!”

Aalia’s eyes showed hurt and confusion. “Is that what you think Islam is all about, Misha?”

I mentally kicked myself – Aalia was Muslim too, wasn’t she? Talk about insensitivity!

I backtracked. “Well, no, not really. I mean, I don’t know. To be honest, he’s given me loads of books but I haven’t opened even one of them.”

“Maybe you should, Misha. You might learn something...” She sighed. “Anyway, you have to choose, Misha. You either take him as he is, accept whatever flaws he has, however he
is growing and changing, or leave him for someone more like you, on your social level.”

“But I don’t want anyone else, Aalia!” I wailed. “I want Dwayne.”

“Well,” was Aalia’s response, “you’d better deal with everything that comes with that. At the end of the day, are you prepared to rethink your dreams and future
plans to take into account where he is coming from? Are you prepared for the fact that he just might not get his GCSEs, may never go to uni? This is the reality, Misha, and you’re going to
have to face up to it if you’re in it for the long term.”

“I’m not a snob, Aalia, I can still respect someone who hasn’t gone to uni – I’m not like my mum...”

“It’s not about being a snob, though, is it? It’s about having different aspirations, different outlooks on life. Look at my parents: with them, it’s easy. Our religion
and culture are their priority. After that, education is the most important thing to them, as far as we kids are concerned. It’s yet another thing they have in common, it unites them. It may
make them really tough to please but at least that is one area you know they aren’t going to budge. Imagine how Dwayne will feel when you go off to uni and leave him on his council estate.
Don’t you think he’s going to feel a little jealous, a little out of his depth? What about when he meets your university-educated friends? It’s going to be awful for
him!”

“I’m so afraid that you’re right...”

“I am right, Misha, and you know it. You know what I’m like: I don’t do sugar-coating! If you want that, go speak to Victoria, she’ll give you plenty of the romantic
dreamer stuff. Me? I’ll tell you straight because I care about you... and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“You don’t think there is a future for us, do you?” I asked sullenly.

Effie appeared, eager to hear the latest episode of the soap opera that my life had become.

“You’re sixteen, Misha, what’s all this talk about futures?” She laughed. “I say enjoy it while it lasts. He’s hot; he’s totally into you – just
enjoy the moment! You’re still young; you don’t need to be compatible like that. Trust me, in a year or so, you will have moved on and so will he – you never know, Leon Grant
might have you back!”

“Oh no, I’d rather die!”

“The thing that worries me, Misha,” Aalia said, “is that you’re living this Romeo-and-Juliet fantasy – but just look at how they ended up!”

“Don’t you believe in love, Aalia?”

“I do, Misha, I really do. I just don’t know how much you can love someone at sixteen – or how real that love can be, seeing as you’re still getting to know yourself. Do
you see where I’m coming from?”

And I hadn’t said any more about it. Maybe I was just being silly. Maybe Aalia, Effie, Victoria, Mum and my aunties were right: Dwayne was just a passing phase, best enjoyed before it was
over.

I tried to tell myself that several times that day but, every time, my heart whispered back to me: ‘Liar’.

I peered out of the window as we drove down the high street. This side of town was a jumbled mass of kebab shops, cheap outlet stores and off-licences. Torn posters flapped
against the worn brick walls and rubbish nestled in the gutters. Not somewhere I would ever have considered coming, had it not been for Dwayne’s invitation. I looked down at the ‘A to
Z’ on my lap. I always followed our route in the A to Z, even when we took cabs, just to be safe.

“I think this is the road coming up, Effie,” I said. “Right at these traffic lights.”

The cabbie turned into a dingy street and Effie raised an eyebrow. “This place looks like it could use a little gentrification...” she mused. We both looked out of the window, trying
to spot the name of the club. “Vee, keep it down, girl! We’re trying to find this place.”

Victoria, who had been singing along to Mariah Carey at the top of her voice, stopped suddenly and began to giggle uncontrollably.

“Girls, girls,” she laughed, “tonight is going to be fabulous, darlings, absolutely fabulous!”

Just then, I saw the line of people snaking along the pavement and the flashing neon sign above them: Club Loco. “Look, Effie, there it is!”

Effie took one look at the people in the line and burst out laughing, almost choking herself in the process. “You can’t be serious, Misha! Just look at these people!”

I peeped out of the cab window and stared at the people who were queuing up to get into Club Loco. I felt a shiver of uncertainty, of fear, run through me. Caps, braids, giant puffa jackets,
baggy jeans that revealed patterned boxer shorts, Timberland boots and diamond earrings adorned the guys who stood around, looking hard, screw-face. The girls, decked out in the latest choppy
hairstyles and short skirts, fake nails and huge gold hoop earrings, surveyed us as we parked up, their mouths set, arms crossed in front of them.

Not a happy crowd.

“You girls sure you’re going to be all right?” asked the cab driver, eyeing the kids in the line.

“Yeah, we’ll be fine. We’re meeting someone... but... do you mind waiting?”

The cabbie shrugged and pointed at the meter that was still ticking away.

“Where’s Dwayne?” Effie asked, looking sceptically at the huddle of people crowded around the door. “If he doesn’t come for us, we’re finished. This lot look
like they eat posh West London girls for breakfast.”

I laughed nervously. “Dwayne wouldn’t ask us to come anywhere dangerous, Effie. He’s got more sense than that. He wouldn’t let anything happen to us.”

But, if I was honest, I would admit that I felt self-conscious, embarrassed for myself and my friends – and for Dwayne. I had known that his crowd was different to mine, but this? This
seemed like a totally different world, a world we didn’t belong to, could never fit into, with our Karen Millen outfits and clutch bags. These were straight-up, raw ghetto people, the kind
Mum despised, the kind she had always warned me about. Perhaps it had been a mistake to come here. Maybe we were better off just going home now. The taxi was still here; it wouldn’t be a
problem to simply jump back in and head for home.

Then my phone rang.

“Hey, babe,” came the familiar voice. “Where are you?”

“Oh, Dwayne! We’re here, we’re just parking up. Where are you?”

“Right behind you,” came the voice from outside the window.

I looked out to find Dwayne standing there, the essence of fineness, a lazy smile on his face. All my fears melted away. Dwayne was here: everything would be all right.

“Thought you were gonna stand me up,” he said, taking my hand. Then he nodded towards Effie and Victoria. “Hey, Effie, Vee, wha’ gwan’? You ready for the show
tonight?”

Effie put her head to one side and raised her eyebrow at Dwayne. “As long as you can guarantee that there won’t be any drive-bys or anything like that, we should be cool.”

“Nah, man, it’s all love. These peeps have come for a show, to have a good time, y’ get me. They ain’t looking for no beef.”

Victoria emerged from the taxi and gave a little squeal of excitement when she saw Dwayne. “Ah, here you are at last, Dwayne, darling! Now the show can begin!”

Dwayne looked over at me. “I ain’t never seen her like this before. Is she all right?”

I nodded and made a sniffing sound with my hand against my nostrils.

Dwayne’s eyes opened wide and he said, “Yeah?”

“Yeah...”

He chuckled. “Vee’s ready to party then, innit?” And he put out his hand to steady her as she careened towards us, almost twisting her ankle as she stumbled in her
leopard-print platform heels. “Easy, girl, easy!” he called, laughing. “Let’s get you inside, shall we?” He grabbed me by my waist with his other arm and pulled me
close. “I’m the luckiest man here tonight,” he whispered in my ear and I giggled, butterflies dancing in the pit of my stomach.

Then he was guiding us through the intimidating crowd of b-boys and b-girls hanging around outside the door, stopping to greet some of them, being stopped by others, pumping hands, being slapped
on the back.

“Yo, Boy Wonder! Wha’ blow?”

“Waiting for your slot, man!”

“You’re gonna light up the spot, bro!”

“We came all the way down from Bristol, dog!”

“Hope you’ve got some surprises for us, innit!”

DWAYNE

I was on top of the world, bubbling with pride and excitement. Here I was, walking with my arm around my girl, feeling the love from the fans I had gained over the past year. I
had worked hard for this. Tonight was my night, my big chance to impress the headline act and the other MCs and producers that were bound to be there.

The main act was a local boy who had made it big on the charts, taking grime – urban street music – to the mainstream. Although the venue was tired, it was an honour to be supporting
him.

And Misha was here to see it. My heart grew soft when I thought of her, felt her, smelt her perfume, right next to me, in this place. She was here for me, just for me, to see me shine, and that
made me feel big, bigger than I had ever felt in my life.

‘You love her, innit?’

Silence.

‘Just admit it, man! It’s me you’re talking to here.’

‘Y’ know what? I think I do. I think I love her. Oh God.’

‘Scary innit?’

‘Swear down, bruv!’

‘LOL.’

When I walked up to the door, one of the bouncers smiled at me and hugged me – a huge man hug.

“This is my girl, Misha, and her friends, Effie and Victoria. Girls, this is my cousin, Darren.”

“Pleasure to meet you, ladies, come in. Have a good time.”

And we were in.

MISHA

In spite of my initial misgivings, I found myself caught up in the mood of the crowd and excitement bubbled up inside me. After all, why shouldn’t I enjoy myself? I was
going to see Dwayne at his best, in his comfort zone at last.

The underground club was packed. People lined the staircase going down into the main room, the walls and floor vibrating to the bass of the music. The main area was a sea of people, the same
intimidating figures from outside, with hard-looking faces, eyeing each other up.

“Dwayne,” I shouted into Dwayne’s ear, “how come they all look so angry? Aren’t they here to have a good time?”

And Dwayne laughed: “That’s just the way de mandem are, innit. Don’t worry, once the tunes start up, you’ll see them start to grin teeth...”

“That’s the trouble with you hiphop heads!” Effie laughed to cover her nervousness. “You’re just not happy people, are you?”

“You sure you can handle this lot, Dee? They look like they may get violent if you don’t come correct...”

“Hey, this is Boy Wonder you’re talking to – of course I’m gonna come correct! Trust me, I’ve played for worse crowds than this one.”

We finally found some empty stools, at the far end of the bar.

“Make mine a Mojito!” hooted Victoria, shaking her shoulders to the throbbing bassline, swinging the ends of her feather boa in the air in front of Dwayne’s face.

He laughed and swatted at her, ducking out of the way as she spun round, her skirt flying up. “Easy, Vee!” he called. “Watch yourself!”

Effie and I exchanged a look.