Alcoholic mum

The monotone pip signalling the end of school blurted out of the speakers throughout the building, and that meant everyone was about to rush out of the door, regardless of which teacher was speaking. Home time was home time, and the collective action of students always defied any teacher’s desires.

“Alright” Mr Lark began shouting over the sound of metal chair legs screeching on acrylic floors, “make sure you get the home work in on Monday. The print outs are up here at the front, take a copy for the weekend. Don’t forget, use your books.”

Jacob stood up, stuffed his only biro back in the graffiti covered pencil case and put it in his Reebok football boot bag, where he kept his stationary, and homework. He’d keep football boots in there if he had any.

“What you on tonight?”  Kevin said from behind. Jacob waited for Sarah to slip past him as she packed her bag, Jacob getting a whiff of her perfume on the way. As she rubbed past him, he could feel her bosom against his and he relished every nanosecond of it.

“Bye Sarah” he said sheepishly eyes hanging low.

“Bye” she said hurriedly and ran towards the door waving as she saw her mates.

“Nothing planned yet,” Jacob replied, whilst putting his dark hoodie on over his black school blazer.

 “Might just play FIFA and see what’s on TV,” he said lying.  

“You’re shit mate. I’m gonna go meet them girls from Becks I was telling you about. Might try score some wine from Abdul’s shop again, but he’s getting strict these days. Apparently got raided by police, the prick”.

“I swear his names not even Abdul?” Jacob noted.

“Nah I think his names Ray, but he looks like an Abdul haha.”

Jacob smiled, “racist prick”.

Kevin put on his thick Millwall FC winter jacket which looked appropriate for this time of year, unlike Jacob’s cotton hoodie and checked the new phone his parents got him. Kevin always had new stuff.

“Take off that shit coat,” Jacob said laughing.

“Fuck you mate, we’re gonna do you lot this weekend, watch!” Jacob chuckled shaking his head in disgust, and headed with Kevin towards the door.

“Sound sick about tonight though. Might text you later, see if you’re about. Can catch bus up your ends ways,” Jacob said, lying again.

“Alright mate. I’m gonna go this way cause got to walk my sister to the bus-stop again after what happened last time, or my dad will mash me up haha.”

Jacob just nodded as Kevin jogged off down the corridor. Kevin’s dad was friendly, albeit always asking Jacob about his mixed culture. Jacob had no idea himself really, but he guessed Martin was just trying to be nice, and Jacob respected that he supposed. Being Friday it meant inspectors could be manning the train barriers. He reckoned it was about 50/50 these days, but he read something about a strike in the Metro today so thought the odds were in his favour and he’d get to travel for free. He only really looked at the pictures, cause they showed fuming people crammed onto trains, which was quite funny. Feeling optimistic Jacob went in the shop by school and counted out his last bit of money to spend. When he got in, he stopped suddenly in his tracks. Sarah was in there with her mates. He moved on and went to the fridge and saw his light brown skin in the dirty glass thinking this weather is making him look less like caramel and more like runny shit. He picked out a coke and went to the counter for a pack of salt and vinegar Real McCoy’s crisps. The extra strong flavour was worth the extra ten pence. Everyone knows it. He stood tentatively for a second paying when she called out.

“Hey Jacob” and she left her mates and walked over to Jacob confidently with her hands tucked into her short black coat chewing gum. She wore a lot of perfume, so he smelt her before he even saw her. He loved that smell.
“Alright Sarah” Jacob said calmly.

“You coming tonight too? I was gonna meet Kevin and his idiot friends in Catford probably. He reckons he can get us some wine.”
He made eye contact, and admired her face for a moment taking in her bright auburn hair, the freckles, and the blue eyes covered in mascara that didn’t seem to match her face properly.

“Nothin, just gon go home watch TV, might do the homework innit.”
“Awww… you geek.” She said gently punching his chest.

He looked into her eyes again for a second, then quickly looked away.

 “I can come down on the bus,” he said. The third lie of the day, and this time he felt a pang of remorse.

She just laughed, “you alllllways say that silly!” tilting her head slightly smiling. There was a pause, and then for a brief moment she straightened her head, her eyes turned to concern, and she seemed to go to say something. Instead Sarah just took in some air and smiled again.
“Alright J, maybe ‘See. You. Later’ then” and she went out of the shop joining the others.
Jacob turned to pay where Ray the shopkeeper stood with a huge cheeky grin on his face, folding his muscly tattooed arms. He seemed to rock back and forward for a second and raised his eyebrows.
“That little red head one likes you… you little wrong, en. If I was your age mate….. Let’s not even go there” he said winking. Jacob flashed him an angry stare.
“Shut-up bruv,” and grabbed his stuff heading for the exit.

Ray just watched and laughed. It’s so easy to wind up the school kids. Ray was just glad these ones never nicked anything.

At this time of year it got dark around now, plus this hoodie wasn’t offering any protection from the wind. He went towards the station once more, hoping those inspectors weren’t there. Turning the corner he frowned and saw them with their bright orange jackets and stupid hats checking people’s passes, and just beyond them he saw Sarah again who was on the platform laughing with 3 others from his class as the train came into the station. He quickly turned about, left the station and began the long but inevitable walk home. Sarah took a quick glance hoping to see Jacob enter the platform, but he wasn’t there despite this being his train. She knew he was a mystery.

He’d rather have got the train in this cold (if the heat was working) but he liked the walk at times if he was honest. This part of London was unusually leafy and included walking through Brenchley Gardens cemetery, as well as the now un-used Nunhead cemetery where people only really walked their dogs or jogged amongst the ancient 18^th century grave stones and the weird church that people on the block say is used by Satanists. It was a small respite from the cold, grey, concrete blocks that littered the city like randomly placed dominos in no particular order. Darkness had really begun to set in now, and it was chilly as the air pierced the cotton fabric of the hoodie. He put his hood up tightening the cords and pushed his hands in his pocket. After about a mile and a half he was right in it amongst the ancient trees, old tomb stones, and thick bushes and it reminded him of how the Shire probably looked in that massive fucking book they were making them all read for English. Maybe he’d read some tonight, if he could. There were long hanging trees, dark corners, and weird stone slabs strewn out along and beside the gravel tracks. He crossed paths with a couple of people walking dogs and three joggers who looked at him wearily. He didn’t care. He knew he was a hooded black boy in South East London. Standard. He even laughed a little. Maybe one day he should rob them pricks to teach them a lesson.

He got back onto the main road and saw his red brick post-war tower block across the street and his mood sunk a little. He instinctively felt for his keys sighing. He got to his block, entered the large thick steel security door (which was usually broken) and climbed the three stories two concrete steps at a time getting to his front door slightly out of breath. As he approached he could smell cigarette smoke, and could hear a familiar reggae music coming from inside and he sighed.

Yes, me friend, me friend,

It was one of those really old Bob Markey tunes, before the guy was mainstream.

Dem set me free again,

He just hung his head rubbing his eyes for a second.

Yes, me friend, me friend,

Reggae at home only ever meant one thing.

Me deh 'pon street again,

He took out his keys, unlocked the chubb lock and went inside to face the music.