make any sense, she say
In for the night?
Too bright. Too light. She terrified of what I get up to when I’m outta her sight. But she scared of sayin’ so.
We can have ice cream
.
Ice cream. The only weapon she got.
She don’ mention no meat wagons, no stiffs bein’ carried out on stretchers. Maybe she hopin’ we ain’t noticed, don’ wanna be stressin’ us. Protec’ us from drugs business oozin’ roun’ The Finger. She always used to say if me or Con-Con ever dip into that stuff she goin’ to put us in a kids’ home, but kill us half dead first.
She think it drugs right now. She runnin’ scared. Don’ think straight. Think we can just ask them council bureau-cats to sort everythin’. So long as we say Please and Thanks and Yes sir three bags full sir everythin’ gonna be sweet.
She start on about the bugs predicament. She say
Hey, Marshy, guess what? We’re going to sort out this bug problem once and for all. I rang Big Auntie, and tomorrow me and her are going to see the council in person. We’re going to demand they inspect the whole block, and get the lift fixed up properly this time. What do you think?
Con-Con awake now, and Mum look from one of us to the other. I ain’t givin’ no approval. Con won’t look up from his Transformer toy. I can see he’s got a bug bite on his arm. He been scratchin’.
Now
. She claps her hands together.
Who’s for ice cream?
She puts her hand in her pocket and pushes a fiver in my direction.
Marshmallow? You and Sabre can do the honours
.
So tragic. Back in the day, me and the mutt wouldn’t need tellin’ twice. That dog actually know the word ice cream and immediately start runnin’ round in circles, yappin’ like a loon. There ain’t nothin’ Sabreboy likes more than an ice cream cone, ’cept a double ice cream cone with a flake. These days, I ain’t so easily diverted. My brain grown a little bit bigger than a dog’s. But I gotta think. So I play along.
All right!
I break into a big, fake smile.
’Cept it ain’t entirely fake, ’cos a big tub of ice cream right now is appealin’ comfort. I’ll think better with ice cream. Day been another scorcher. Time to cool things down.
Me and Sabes gallop down the stairs headin’ straight for the local shops. Fresh air. Forget about Compo and bugs and drugs. Make ice cream be Top Priority Number One. Sabe trots on the spot when I tie him up outside. Corner shop sits in the shadow of The Finger, but it out of spittin’ distance. I hear Sabe whinin’ and frettin’ as I pay the girl, ’cos he know what he got comin’. I almost whinin’ myself. By the time I come out the shop, my dog is slobberatin’ all over the pavement.
I walk slow as I can back to The Finger, my dog runnin’ greedy circles roun’ me, tryin’ to hurry me on. Con-Con waves down at us from the balcony and I hold up the tub like First Prize I won in a race. Choc chip. We will have us a eatin’ race.
The sun is shiftin’ round to behind the block. As I’m squintin’ up somethin’ ain’t right. A shadow is movin’ around on the concrete walls. I stop in my tracks. Can’t be no shadow. There ain’t nothin’ to cast no shadow. It’s about the size and shape of a dinner plate, and movin’ around and around. But it ain’t no dinner plate, on account of that bein’ impossible. Make no sense. I’m standin’ blinkin’ up at it, ice cream tub condensatin’ in my hands, like my forehead condensatin’ sweat into my eyes. Cold sweat. See that shadow joined by a second shadow, movin’ round the same way. I see a couple more. Nex’ thing, I’m seein’ five, no, six of ’em, dark red splodges. I cup my hands round my eyes and try to focus better.
Call me simpleton if it give you satisfaction, but at this moment I am in confusion, ’cos what I’m seein’ is Mr Bush’s cushions , movin’ about on their own account, up and down the side of the tower block.
I been sniffin’ too much fume from Mustaph’s spray
In for the night?
Too bright. Too light. She terrified of what I get up to when I’m outta her sight. But she scared of sayin’ so.
We can have ice cream
.
Ice cream. The only weapon she got.
She don’ mention no meat wagons, no stiffs bein’ carried out on stretchers. Maybe she hopin’ we ain’t noticed, don’ wanna be stressin’ us. Protec’ us from drugs business oozin’ roun’ The Finger. She always used to say if me or Con-Con ever dip into that stuff she goin’ to put us in a kids’ home, but kill us half dead first.
She think it drugs right now. She runnin’ scared. Don’ think straight. Think we can just ask them council bureau-cats to sort everythin’. So long as we say Please and Thanks and Yes sir three bags full sir everythin’ gonna be sweet.
She start on about the bugs predicament. She say
Hey, Marshy, guess what? We’re going to sort out this bug problem once and for all. I rang Big Auntie, and tomorrow me and her are going to see the council in person. We’re going to demand they inspect the whole block, and get the lift fixed up properly this time. What do you think?
Con-Con awake now, and Mum look from one of us to the other. I ain’t givin’ no approval. Con won’t look up from his Transformer toy. I can see he’s got a bug bite on his arm. He been scratchin’.
Now
. She claps her hands together.
Who’s for ice cream?
She puts her hand in her pocket and pushes a fiver in my direction.
Marshmallow? You and Sabre can do the honours
.
So tragic. Back in the day, me and the mutt wouldn’t need tellin’ twice. That dog actually know the word ice cream and immediately start runnin’ round in circles, yappin’ like a loon. There ain’t nothin’ Sabreboy likes more than an ice cream cone, ’cept a double ice cream cone with a flake. These days, I ain’t so easily diverted. My brain grown a little bit bigger than a dog’s. But I gotta think. So I play along.
All right!
I break into a big, fake smile.
’Cept it ain’t entirely fake, ’cos a big tub of ice cream right now is appealin’ comfort. I’ll think better with ice cream. Day been another scorcher. Time to cool things down.
Me and Sabes gallop down the stairs headin’ straight for the local shops. Fresh air. Forget about Compo and bugs and drugs. Make ice cream be Top Priority Number One. Sabe trots on the spot when I tie him up outside. Corner shop sits in the shadow of The Finger, but it out of spittin’ distance. I hear Sabe whinin’ and frettin’ as I pay the girl, ’cos he know what he got comin’. I almost whinin’ myself. By the time I come out the shop, my dog is slobberatin’ all over the pavement.
I walk slow as I can back to The Finger, my dog runnin’ greedy circles roun’ me, tryin’ to hurry me on. Con-Con waves down at us from the balcony and I hold up the tub like First Prize I won in a race. Choc chip. We will have us a eatin’ race.
The sun is shiftin’ round to behind the block. As I’m squintin’ up somethin’ ain’t right. A shadow is movin’ around on the concrete walls. I stop in my tracks. Can’t be no shadow. There ain’t nothin’ to cast no shadow. It’s about the size and shape of a dinner plate, and movin’ around and around. But it ain’t no dinner plate, on account of that bein’ impossible. Make no sense. I’m standin’ blinkin’ up at it, ice cream tub condensatin’ in my hands, like my forehead condensatin’ sweat into my eyes. Cold sweat. See that shadow joined by a second shadow, movin’ round the same way. I see a couple more. Nex’ thing, I’m seein’ five, no, six of ’em, dark red splodges. I cup my hands round my eyes and try to focus better.
Call me simpleton if it give you satisfaction, but at this moment I am in confusion, ’cos what I’m seein’ is Mr Bush’s cushions , movin’ about on their own account, up and down the side of the tower block.
I been sniffin’ too much fume from Mustaph’s spray
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