the bell to call them to tutor time, then form room.
“I can’t! He’d go mad! I don’t know what he’d do. He keeps saying we should be at school in Nigeria, where there is proper discipline.”
Sade didn’t need to explain more. Mariam and her mother were refugees from Somalia. They too had been forced to escape the soldiers in their country. Mariam’s mother had also been called for The Interview. The immigration officers had used an interpreter and checked every little detail in her mother’s application for asylum. They had kept returning to how she could know for sure that her husband had died in prison. “No respect for thedead.” Mariam had repeated her mother’s words when telling Sade. Some months after The Interview, they had received papers saying they could stay. However, Mariam still knew how it felt to have your real home far away and to have a parent who remembered it even more often than you did.
After registration Sade lagged behind in the tutor room, pretending to check the contents of her bag. James seemed to be in no hurry to troop off to the first lesson of the day. He hung behind with a small group of students, smiling at Marcia, who was in full flow.
“This is Passion FM! Turn us on and we turn you on!” Marcia pouted and flicked her sleekly straightened hair behind one ear. This week the black strands glinted with auburn. Her long fingers were covered in rings, four on one hand and three on the other. A cluster of gold bracelets jingled around her right wrist. Marcia managed to get away with more jewelry in school than anyone else.
“Break it up now! You’re going to be late for your next lesson.” Their tutor, Mr. Morris, had a stack of books tucked under one arm and was waiting to follow them out into the corridor. “By year ten, I shouldn’t be getting complaints of lateness.”
“Would you have liked to be a radio announcer rather than a teacher, Sir?” Donna swept a comb through her long blond hair. “You’ve got the right voice for it!”
“Imagine how many people you could have driven to distraction, Sir!” Marcia almost purred the last words. “Not just a bunch of schoolkids!”
There was a burst of laughter as they headed for the door. James trailed at the rear, and Sade slipped beside him. He grinned at her.
“Or driven them to grief!” he muttered through his teeth. She didn’t smile back. Instead, she thrust a small piece of paper into his jacket pocket.
“Read it,” she said. “I’ve got something for you. Be there.”
At eleven o’clock Sade hurried to the library. Some children were gathered around the computers, and a few were browsing quietly through the paperback stand. The librarian was strict about noise. Sade disappeared between the shelves into the farthest corner with the science books. No one else was there. She picked up a book about tropical forests, but her eyes kept flicking across to the clock. By ten past eleven, there was still no sign of James. Her note had said:
I’ve got something for you. Come to the library at break on your own. I’ll be by the science books. Sade.
The note would make sense only if she had guessed correctly that he was the go-between. He would then imagine that Femi had told her about him—and that she wanted to give him a message for Lizard Eyes. But what if her guess was wrong? It would look as if she was making a pass at James! She shouldn’t have signed her name! Perhaps at this very moment he was showing the note to people like Marcia and Donna. They would all be laughing. Theywould probably be making a joke about Sade wanting to meet him in the library. It was probably the last place James would want to be seen nowadays. It was where they had always met for the book club.
By a quarter past eleven, Sade’s stomach was churning and she was about to give up waiting when the entrance door swung open. James glanced casually around the library as he strolled toward the nonfiction section. He
“I can’t! He’d go mad! I don’t know what he’d do. He keeps saying we should be at school in Nigeria, where there is proper discipline.”
Sade didn’t need to explain more. Mariam and her mother were refugees from Somalia. They too had been forced to escape the soldiers in their country. Mariam’s mother had also been called for The Interview. The immigration officers had used an interpreter and checked every little detail in her mother’s application for asylum. They had kept returning to how she could know for sure that her husband had died in prison. “No respect for thedead.” Mariam had repeated her mother’s words when telling Sade. Some months after The Interview, they had received papers saying they could stay. However, Mariam still knew how it felt to have your real home far away and to have a parent who remembered it even more often than you did.
After registration Sade lagged behind in the tutor room, pretending to check the contents of her bag. James seemed to be in no hurry to troop off to the first lesson of the day. He hung behind with a small group of students, smiling at Marcia, who was in full flow.
“This is Passion FM! Turn us on and we turn you on!” Marcia pouted and flicked her sleekly straightened hair behind one ear. This week the black strands glinted with auburn. Her long fingers were covered in rings, four on one hand and three on the other. A cluster of gold bracelets jingled around her right wrist. Marcia managed to get away with more jewelry in school than anyone else.
“Break it up now! You’re going to be late for your next lesson.” Their tutor, Mr. Morris, had a stack of books tucked under one arm and was waiting to follow them out into the corridor. “By year ten, I shouldn’t be getting complaints of lateness.”
“Would you have liked to be a radio announcer rather than a teacher, Sir?” Donna swept a comb through her long blond hair. “You’ve got the right voice for it!”
“Imagine how many people you could have driven to distraction, Sir!” Marcia almost purred the last words. “Not just a bunch of schoolkids!”
There was a burst of laughter as they headed for the door. James trailed at the rear, and Sade slipped beside him. He grinned at her.
“Or driven them to grief!” he muttered through his teeth. She didn’t smile back. Instead, she thrust a small piece of paper into his jacket pocket.
“Read it,” she said. “I’ve got something for you. Be there.”
At eleven o’clock Sade hurried to the library. Some children were gathered around the computers, and a few were browsing quietly through the paperback stand. The librarian was strict about noise. Sade disappeared between the shelves into the farthest corner with the science books. No one else was there. She picked up a book about tropical forests, but her eyes kept flicking across to the clock. By ten past eleven, there was still no sign of James. Her note had said:
I’ve got something for you. Come to the library at break on your own. I’ll be by the science books. Sade.
The note would make sense only if she had guessed correctly that he was the go-between. He would then imagine that Femi had told her about him—and that she wanted to give him a message for Lizard Eyes. But what if her guess was wrong? It would look as if she was making a pass at James! She shouldn’t have signed her name! Perhaps at this very moment he was showing the note to people like Marcia and Donna. They would all be laughing. Theywould probably be making a joke about Sade wanting to meet him in the library. It was probably the last place James would want to be seen nowadays. It was where they had always met for the book club.
By a quarter past eleven, Sade’s stomach was churning and she was about to give up waiting when the entrance door swung open. James glanced casually around the library as he strolled toward the nonfiction section. He
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