In the Dark Read Free Page B

‘Theodore’ at his mother’s house, or when his friends were taking the piss.
    What’s the score, Theo-dore?
    â€˜So many names you all got,’ his father had said once, laughing, same as he always did before he got to his punchline. ‘What’s the damn point when you ain’t even signing on?’
    Then that look from his mother. The same one he always got when she was bursting to ask him why he didn’t need to sign on.
    Easy dug into his bag, took out a new ball and tossed it down at Theo’s feet. ‘Your shot I think, old boy.’ He raised a hand. ‘Hold the cameras please.’
    Theo pulled out his club from the thin, ratty bag he’d been given at the hut and knocked the ball up a few feet short of the green.
    Ten yards further on, in the rough, Easy found his ball. He stood over it, waggling his arse for an age, then smashed it twenty yards over the back of the green into the trees. ‘The putting thing’s boring as shit anyway,’ he said.
    They walked towards the green. It was bright, but the ground was still heavy underfoot. The laces on Theo’s trainers were brown with muddy water, and the bottom few inches of his jeans were sopping from the long grass where he’d spent most of the previous half hour.
    Almost a fortnight into July and it was like the summer had got held up somewhere. Theo couldn’t wait for it to kick in. He hated the cold and the wet; felt it in his bones, making it hard to stir himself sometimes.
    His father had been the same.
    Sitting out ten floors up on the tiny balcony, in jackets and sweaters, the old man sneaking him sips of barley wine when his mum wasn’t looking.
    â€˜We’re not cut out for the cold weather, you see? For the breeze and the bitterness. Why you don’t see no black men skiing.’
    Theo would always laugh at shit like this.
    â€˜We’re from an island.’ Well into the wine by this time. ‘Sun and sea, that’s natural.’
    â€˜Not too many black swimmers, though,’ Theo said.
    â€˜No . . .’
    â€˜Don’t make sense then.’
    Nodding, thoughtful. ‘It’s a question of natural buoyancy.’
    His father didn’t have too much more to say about that. Certainly didn’t bring it up when Theo was winning all those races in the school swimming gala. Just stood on the side shouting louder than anybody else; making even more noise when the tight-arsed woman behind tried to shush him.
    â€˜Jus’ ’cos her boy swim like he’s drowning,’ he said.
    The old man was always talking some shit until Mum told him to stop being so foolish. Even at the end, lying on the sofa, when it was the drugs making him ramble.
    Easy marched across the green, began crashing about in the trees while Theo chipped up and putted out. Looking back, Theo could see people waiting on the tee behind. He was starting to walk off the green when Easy emerged, strolled over and started talking, throwing the flag from hand to hand: ‘What you doing later?’
    â€˜Not much. See Javine, whatever. You?’
    Easy threw the flag. ‘Some business in the afternoon.’
    Theo nodded, glanced back towards the people waiting.
    â€˜Ain’t no problem, just bits and pieces. You better come along.’ Easy looked for a reaction. ‘Call your girl.’
    â€˜Bits and pieces?’
    â€˜ Little bits and pieces, I swear.’ A grin spread slowly across his face. ‘Seriously teeny-tiny, man, I swear to God.’
    Theo remembered that smile from school. It was hard to remember sometimes that Easy wasn’t a kid any more. He was darker-skinned than Theo, his olds from Nigeria, but it didn’t matter. Both from the same ends, the same part of Lewisham, knocking about with all sorts most of the time. There were plenty of mixed-race boys in the crew; though most were Jamaicans, like him. A few Asians too, and even a couple of white boys