One Hundred Shades of White. Preethi Nair

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СКАЧАТЬ she shouted through the window.

      Maggie held our hands but Satchin released hers as we began walking to school. We passed derelict buildings, shops that were boarded up and covered with graffiti. Some said simply ‘Pakis out’. These Pakis were everywhere, according to the graffiti. ‘Who are they?’ I asked Maggie.

      ‘You’ve not to take any notice of that sort of thing. Do you hear me children? Just silly people giving other people nasty names.’

      There were empty beer cans sprawled along the way, which had been dented by heavy fists or feet, and a group of punks crossed the road. Their hair colour reminded me for an instant of the exotic birds we had back in India. I looked at my brother to see if he had thought so too but he was somewhere else, looking down at his feet. This was the ten-minute walk to school that we would grow so familiar with, and then we went into a very old, grey building.

      Maggie accompanied us along the corridor to see Mr Mauldy, the headmaster. He asked us lots of questions and gave us a stack of forms which needed Amma’s signature. We said we could sign right there as Satchin was the one who normally signed for her when Achan wasn’t around. Maggie smiled at the headmaster, saying that we were always joking around like that, and she took the forms and put them in her handbag, adding she would make sure that my mother got them. He smiled at us uncomfortably and then he took us down the corridor to show us to our respective classrooms.

      My new teacher was a lady called Miss Brown; she didn’t have the warmth of Miss Davies and when she smiled she revealed a set of piano teeth, with a protruding e flat. ‘This is Maya, everyone say hello,’ she said, introducing me to my new class. ‘This is Maya,’ she repeated. Everybody talked over her. She shouted at the top of her voice and they stopped for a few seconds and looked at her apathetically. Nobody volunteered for me to sit next to them and I could feel the hostile eyes of a boy in the front row. Miss Brown pointed to the back of the class to a seat next to a small girl. I went over to her and as I took my seat I smiled nervously at her. She smiled back, saying that her name was Fatima and she gave me a yellow fruit gum. This act of generosity meant so much at the time but, weeks later, I realised that she had packets and packets of them as her mother worked at the sweet factory and the yellow ones were the ones she didn’t like and so discarded without a second thought.

      Miss Brown was teaching the colours of the rainbow and was asking if anyone knew what followed red. I knew all the colours because in the old school we had learnt a song. I kept putting my hand up and answering questions and the boy in the front row kept looking back at me. I smiled and then he squinted his eyes at me so I ignored him. This aggravated the situation because he mouthed something back, to which I shrugged my shoulders, indicating that I couldn’t hear what he was saying.

      ‘He’s Mark Fitzgerald, you can’t mess with Mark Fitzgerald like that, say you’re sorry,’ said Fatima.

      ‘But I haven’t done anything.’

      ‘Just say sorry or there will be trouble,’ Fatima urged.

      I never say sorry, especially if I haven’t done anything wrong, so I continued to ignore him.

      At playtime, Mark Fitzgerald and his big friend came up to me.

      ‘You don’t ever mess with me, Paki.’

      I did not quite understand what Paki was so I told him I wasn’t a Paki and I hadn’t messed with him.

      A crowd had gathered.

      ‘Not a Paki,’ he laughed, pushing me.

      ‘Well, why have you got dirty hair and that Paki smell? Bet you eat with your fingers an’ all. Look, Marty, we’ve got another new Paki,’ he shouted to the other boy.

      At that moment, I envisaged Catherine Hunter’s golden locks and wished that I was still at my old school, twirling around aimlessly in the playground with a Hula-Hoop.

      ‘Bet you’ve brought some smelly sandwiches with you as well,’ he said, grabbing my bag.

      Oh God, my lunch box. I hoped Amma hadn’t put in any masala potatoes between the bread or packed vadas. Mark Fitzgerald’s sidekick went to open it. I closed my eyes, fearing the worst, and then I heard the word ‘cheese’.

      Thank you, Amma, thank you for not doing that to me.

      ‘It’s cheese,’ Mark Fitzgerald shouted, flinging the sandwich, and then he threw my bag at me.

      That was the Kermit the Frog bag Achan had brought for me from America.

      And then I don’t know what happened but something triggered in me and I went for him. I jumped on his back, pushing him to the floor, and pounded him with my fists. All the other children began screaming with excitement and shouted my name. Anger, hurt, sadness all came through my fists as I beat him, I couldn’t stop, and then Mr Mauldy prised me away, marching me into his office.

      I ached all over.

      ‘This is no way to behave, Maya Kathi, especially not on your first day.’

      I tried to explain that it wasn’t my fault, that Mark Fitzgerald had started it, but he wasn’t listening.

      ‘I’ll be watching you very closely. One more episode like that and you’re out. Do you hear me? OUT!’

      I said nothing, I didn’t care. I was very, very tired and sad and wanted to sleep and forget everything.

      When I walked into my class, all the other children began cheering. Miss Brown said there was no need for any of that and asked them to stop, but they continued. She added that poor Mark had had to be taken to the nurse’s office and then they began clapping. I didn’t really care and sat back down next to Fatima who asked if she could be my best friend.

      I thought Amma would come to collect us after school but Maggie came instead, saying that Amma had got work at the factory and would be home later.

      ‘Did you have a good day, children?’

      I said nothing. Satchin shrugged his shoulders.

      ‘You’ll get used to it. It’s always difficult at first, especially when you’re new.’

      Used to it, used to it, we weren’t going to get used to anything. I would speak to Amma, she would make sure that we went somewhere better or find a way of sending us back to our old school.

      ‘We’re not staying,’ I said.

      ‘Not staying where?’ Maggie asked.

      ‘Here, here in this horrible place, in your horrible house,’ I said, as she opened the front door.

      Satchin put his hands on his face.

      ‘Is that right?’ she asked.

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Listen, young lady, let’s get a few things clear and then you and me will get on fine. Be grateful, because this is the best there is at the moment and if there wasn’t this you’d be out on the streets.’

      There were no beaches in London, that’s why she said streets.

      ‘Think of your mother. She’ll be working hard all day so she СКАЧАТЬ