Sour: My Story: A troubled girl from a broken home. The Brixton gang she nearly died for. The baby she fought to live for.. Tracey Miller

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СКАЧАТЬ released his head from the crook of Badman’s arm and wriggled free.

      “Sorry, Mum,” he called up.

      “That’s his mum?” I whispered to Tyrone. Tyrone shook his head.

      “No, Stimpy ain’t got no mum.”

      He explained that Man Dem called all the older women on the estate “Mum”. “Sign of respect.”

      “Ye alright?”

      “I’m fine,” she replied, softening. “Be better if youts were quiet, innit.”

      “Man be good, Mum,” Stimpy winked.

      She rolled her eyes and closed the window. That was why Stimpy was needed by the Man Dem. As I’d find out, he was just as capable of meanness as any of them, and sneaky with it too, but he didn’t look like no hardass gangster. Better than any of them, Stimpy could win people’s trust. He could go unnoticed better than all the rest. He was the best look-out they had.

      Another yout came over to join us. Cyrus didn’t say much, and got on with transactions, counting cash and handing it over to Badman. I recognised him from the saloon photo. He’d been standing at the back, with a cowboy hat on. He was the only one who wasn’t smiling in it.

      “Y’alright? What you doing here?”

      “Free world, innit.”

      Yeah, Drex was one of the names of the Youngers, and right there and then, from the way he spoke to me, I could see he did what it said on the tin: Drex was short for Durex. He was eye candy for sure. I just knew he had the pick of many. Every girl liked this fly boy.

      “What’s he doing?” I asked.

      Cyrus had broken off from the rest of the group, and had gone along the walkway, to knock at one of the flats. He was waiting on the doorstep. The door didn’t open. Instead, he was speaking with someone through the window.

      Drex laughed.

      “No one knows what Cyrus is doing,” he said. “Doing business of some sort. He ain’t trying to tell no one what he’s trying to do. No point. Before you know, he’s gone with it, and be seeing you later at home. He’s just off.”

      Cyrus was a serious character. Bit of a lone wolf. He got a lot of stuff done. Too much, at times. He would be the one, I’d learn, who would be getting chased, with no warning, because of something he’s done that you’re not even aware of. If you suddenly heard the Junction Boys wanted to tear your head off, the reason usually had something to do with Cyrus.

      Cyrus looked over, and nodded hello to us, as he rolled up a spliff. I rarely saw him without some weed. He was high most of the time. Maybe that’s why he didn’t talk much. But even without going into his background or having a conversation, you understood he came from something. That boy had demons. Of them all, he carried the greatest darkness.

      Another guy who joined the group got a bigger welcome than the rest. I realised I recognised him. It was Daggers, the boy who’d scaled balconies on the run from the boydem.

      “Where’ve you been, man? Ain’t seen you for a while,” said Stimpy, pleased to see him.

      “Got nicked, innit. Feds had me down to station for a week, took all my clothes, spun the house …”

      Cyrus passed him a spliff.

      “Thanks, man. So what did I miss?”

      At that moment their attention was turned to two girls, Tyrone’s sister and her friend, who had come down to enjoy the vibe. They didn’t stay long, passing from car to car, talking to some of the guys.

      They were both in their slippers, wearing denim shorts and vest tops. One of them had her hair half-combed, with a comb still poking out her braids. The other half of her hair was wild. In her hand she carried a can of coke.

      “Mum wants you to go and help,” she told her little brother, before taking note of me.

      “Hi Sour,” she said. “Y’alright?”

      “Yeah, good, Chantal. You?”

      “Fine.”

      She clearly wasn’t interested in having a chat.

      Stimpy rolled up behind her and put an arm round her waist.

      “Looking fine tonight, girl.”

      She rolled her eyes, and peeled his arm away.

      “Is it not past your bedtime?” she said. Her friend giggled.

      “Is that an offer?” he replied. “You offering to take man? You can tuck me up real nice.”

      She ignored him. He caught my eye and I supressed a smile.

      “Ty, come on. Mum needs you for something.”

      She seemed irritated, impatient. I realised she didn’t like him being out here.

      He looked at me apologetically.

      “Wanna come up and get some food?”

      “Nah,” I said. “I’m going to hang here for a while.”

      He looked surprised.

      “Sure?”

      “There’s chips and …”

      “Ty,” I said, more forcefully this time. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

      “OK,” he shrugged. His sister spun on her heel and went back up the stairwell, with Tyrone falling behind.

      I spent the rest of the evening drifting through this new crowd. By the time darkness finally fell I had taken so much in, watching different characters from different tiers exchanging cash and talking business. I watched who made the most money, who felt they were smartest, who commanded the most respect.

      It was all so different from home at Roupell Park where the only diversions were ball games in the Pen and relieving the shops of stock.

      All of a sudden there were all these guys, smoking weed, eating food, playing music. These goings-on felt good.

      I listened a lot and just took it all in, getting the feel of this new crew. Some responded when I spoke to them, others didn’t. Drex made a few introductions with the rest of them, talking over me as if I was dumb and mute.

      “Is she your chick, blood? You banging her?”

      His name was Gadget. He wasn’t known for his charm.

      I smoothed the slick of hair that hung over my eyebrow and tried to look – what’s the word? – disdainful.

      “Nah, she’s down with it, man. Even if I wanted to, she’s not going to have that,” he joked.

      “Damn right,” I said.

      “Well, СКАЧАТЬ