CRUEL SECRETS Page 10

  “What d’ya know?”

  “All I know is …” She stopped in her tracks. “Hold on, how the hell do I know you ain’t the filth, undercover or something?”

  This time, when Keffa laughed, his face glowed, and he gave Kelly a smile that softened his sharp expression and made his eyes light up. “Good girl. Come with me.”

  Casually, she stood up and followed him to the bedroom, confident he wasn’t about to rape her. The room was spacious, immaculately designed, and pristine, with everything in its place. The double bed had mink furs laid neatly across it. He pulled open the door to the oversized mirrored wardrobe and retrieved a box. They walked back to the lounge and sat down again. He smiled. “Take a look at this picture.” He handed her a small framed photo.

  Kelly was shocked. It was a photo of him graduating years ago and underneath it said Keffa Jackson.

  Her mind ran in all directions. Nothing made much sense. This dangerous man, with foot soldiers who could beat anyone half to death, was sitting in a pad that she would associate with a stockbroker and showing her old photos. It was bizarre.

  “So, I am Keffa. Happy now?”

  Kelly giggled for the first time. Keffa watched the innocence of the girl and felt warmed. Nothing was more refreshing than an honest child who spoke from her heart. However, there was something about her, as if he had met her before; it was a familiar feeling that would plague him until he knew the truth. Those eyes of hers were not so childlike; there was strength and determination there, and she was certainly very much more attractive than how Pat had described her. But then, Pat didn’t like her at all.

  “So, you were saying.” He urged her to go on.

  “Yeah, so Rudy, as you know, does sell weed, but he has three grades, and when the parcels go out he has an initial next to them. He uses the last initial of ya first name, so when you get sent a parcel it has an A on it. All the top-grade ones have red tape, that’s how he grades them, ya see. The best quality has red tape, the medium bog-standard has yellow tape, and the shit that he sells for less has green tape. So that’s how I know you always get the best. He wouldn’t do you over, he has no reason to. I know Rudy, he ain’t a scammer, he likes a peaceful life. And as for Ditto, well, he is a passive bloke. We just sell fake shit, there’s no violence, no underhanded dealings, just a plain old sale-or-return arrangement with the Indians down on Commercial Road. So, all I’m saying is, if you had the need to go after Rudy and hurt someone who is innocent, then firstly, that was bang out of order, and secondly, Keffa, someone else is trying to screw you over.”

  His face turned serious now. He was in deep thought when Kelly spoke again.

  “Keffa, Pat don’t like me. I’ve no idea why, but he was always in our house, every day in fact, and now he ain’t. He stopped coming months ago. I thought maybe he had something to do with it. I also know that Rudy assumed you had another dealer, ’cos ya initial wasn’t put against any parcels.”

  Keffa leaned forward. “Months ago, ya say?”

  Kelly nodded, eager for him to believe her.

  “No parcels have been sent to me in over a month from Rudy, is that right? Are you one hundred per cent sure?”

  Kelly sensed he was working something out. “Keffa, I can honestly say, with me hand on me heart, Rudy has not sent you a parcel in over a month. In fact, it’s more like ten. I know, ’cos I do all the sorting and recording.”

  Folding his arms, Keffa inclined his head. “I gotta parcel last week and it had green tape on it. Funny, ’cos I spotted it. I haven’t taken much notice before.”

  Kelly was on the edge of her seat. “Who gave ya the parcel?”

  “It was Pat. The dirty fool. I had the Yardies on me back over it,” he replied, with disgust written across his face. Then he realised the kid had him talking about his business and wondered, like this girl had earlier, if he should be talking in such an open manner.

  “I ain’t surprised,” replied Kelly. “That shit sells for half the price. Usually, it’s the heroin addicts who buy a few ounces, here and there.”

  The girl’s obvious openness lightened his mood. He was a cagey character and would normally never discuss business with anyone. He had a team of men on his books – all sinister hard-core men. He never got his own hands dirty and didn’t even smoke weed. The early days of dealing were done with aggressive violence and he took no prisoners. After a few years, his reputation preceded him and not many firms would cross him and live to talk about it.

  Of course, Kelly had no idea how vicious Keffa could be. He was a wealthy man, with pads all over the city, yet he still returned to Peckham, where he had grown up. His mother, a big Jamaican woman, had scrubbed toilets for a living and saved hard to put her son through university. She still lived here and wasn’t happy to move away. She had her church-going friends, and with her son only around the corner, she felt safe.

  He knew the streets and so he used his maths degree to work the supplies like any legitimate business. He could fight too and was not afraid to use a weapon to prove a point. His dear old mum watched him parade around in a business suit driving luxury cars and was proud he had achieved something in his life. Oblivious to the degree of villainy her son was in, she boasted regularly to her gospel friends how handsome and professional he was. When asked, she would say, “In finance.”

  “Keffa, I love my new family. They are good people, honestly. Rudy would never have done you over, ’cos, well, he is good to us, and he wouldn’t bring trouble to the door.”

  Studying her face carefully, he came to a decision. “Ya know what, kid, I believe you. I’m man enough to say I’ve been mugged off and big enough to say I’m sorry. Listen to me, you go back to Rudy and tell him I won’t hurt him. I have no beef. He will believe you, ’cos I am many things and a man of honour is one of them.” His words reminded her of her aunt Bet, and she trusted her aunt.

  “Actually, kid, I’m gonna pay Rudy a visit meself.” He grabbed his keys and his jacket. “Come on, I’ll drive you home. Ya shouldn’t be out on ya own this late, it’s too dangerous.”

  Kelly wanted to laugh. He was the most dangerous man in these parts, well, so she was led to believe. In the Peckham area alone he probably was, but in South London there were harder men who were even more violent. It wouldn’t be long before she found out this for herself.

  His Range Rover was parked around the corner, top spec, no less. Kelly jumped into the front seat and admired all the lights and the suede interior.

  “Cor, this is lovely,” she said, with excitement.

  Keffa smiled to himself. He liked the girl. She wasn’t flash, flirty, or sly, but just sweet and innocent, with a good head on her shoulders.

  Rudy was looking out of the window, when the well-known Range Rover pulled up outside.

  “Fuck, fuck, it’s Keffa!” he hollered.

  Phoenix and Reggie were weak-kneed and shitting themselves.

  “Oh Jesus, Joseph, and Mary, he’s gonna kill us all,” exclaimed Lippy, who was still kneeling next to Ditto.

  “’Ere, wait! It’s Bluey, she’s with him!” screeched Rudy, still shitting a brick.

  Phoenix rushed to the window. “She’s talking to him.”

  They didn’t have time to run and hide before the key had turned in the lock and Bluey and Keffa were inside.

  “Rudy!” called Kelly, her voice upbeat.

  The men looked at each other, dumbstruck.

  Suddenly, Keffa was there in the doorway, with his hands up. “All right, guys, I ain’t here with menaces.” He looked at Ditto and raised his eyebrow. “They did that?”

  Kelly was by his side. “Yeah, bad, ain’t it?”

  Rudy was still in shock and so were the others.

  He turned to face Rudy. “Okay, Rudy, it looks as though ya man Pat has mugged me off and let you take the blame. I came meself. I think it’s only right and proper to let you know that there is no war between us and to apologise. Ya see, I don’t make mistakes, but it appe
ars that Pat took a right liberty and not only put me good name at risk but me life too.”

  Flabbergasted, Rudy gave a half-smile, unsure if this was some kind of joke. Keffa never said sorry for anything.

  Keffa peered down at Ditto. “It seems my men have gone too far this time. They weren’t meant to do that much damage. I said one hard clump to leave a mark, as a warning. But, as I see it, Ditto took a right good hiding.”

  Lippy stood up. “That chil’ is eighteen years old and covered in bruises. Him no fighter, dear lickle boy.”

  There was silence as Keffa nodded and knelt by Ditto’s side. He held the boy’s wrist, looking at the fake Rolex. Gently, he unclipped the watch and held it up. “Good copy but it ain’t the real thing.” With that, he took off his own Rolex, an oyster-faced, diamond-edged twenty-grand beauty, placed it round Ditto’s wrist, and clipped it shut.

  “Right, I am here to personally tell ya that ya won’t have a visit from me men, and if ya want to keep up the supply …” he winked, “… red-taped no less, then I am happy to do business. Oh, and you leave Pat to me.”

  He ruffled Kelly’s hair and left, leaving them flummoxed. Reggie bent down and looked at the watch. “Ahh, Ditz is gonna love that monster, when he wakes up. Always wanted a real one.”

  Rudy lunged forward and grabbed Kelly by her arms and shook her. “He could have killed you, he would ’ave fucking brutalised you, what the fuck was ya thinking? Sweet Jesus!” He let go of her arms and then hugged her. “Bluey, Bluey, don’t ever do anything like that again.” As he pulled away, he turned his head to hide his watery eyes.

  They spent the rest of the night with a low light around Ditto. Lippy cooked a mega curry and Rudy opened his expensive rum. They talked over the day’s events and looked at Kelly with pride. She had guts, she was foolish, but, Christ, she was brave. By the early hours, Ditto was awake; he was sore, yet able to talk. His eyes were still swollen slits, so Reggie and Phoenix described his new Rolex in great detail.

  Now, that did please him.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Eighteen months later

  The months rolled by and the business grew. The Indians were taking in more fakes, and Kelly had negotiated a good price from the northerners. The factories now sent the goods directly to the warehouses in London. Kelly and the boys weren’t running around with a few boxes; no, they were unloading crates and had two men distributing them by the thousands. She couldn’t believe it: from a few hundred pounds a week, their profits – in percentage terms – were rising faster than a new Rihanna single in the charts, to over ten grand and counting. Reggie taught her how to drive, but she couldn’t have anything official because she was still a wanted person.

  Late one Saturday afternoon, Kelly came home from a shopping spree. She had found a new boutique that sold clothes for the larger woman. There, hanging in the window, was a red dress with a neckline encrusted with crystals. She had it boxed up and tied with a huge red ribbon. It was classy but still had the bling that Lippy would salivate over.

  Lippy was making her own birthday cake; it was a multi-coloured tower of sponge and cream. Saturday and Sunday nights were set aside for her business. She had three punters who were kept for her pocket money. At eight o’clock, she would put on one of her shiny dresses, slap on the make-up, and leave, to return around two o’clock in the morning. This Saturday was her one and only day in the year she kept for herself. The pots and pans were bubbling away, the tantalising aroma filled the house, and the music changed from the usual reggae to 1960s pop. The boys, Ditto, Reggie, and Phoenix were wrapping their gifts in the lounge. Solly, unfortunately, could not make the occasion, having come down with flu. It was almost how Christmas would be. Kelly arrived and slipped into the lounge and beamed, showing them her tastefully wrapped present. The atmosphere was jolly. Kelly had learned over the months that the hard-man talk and stance was just a front because inside the boys were just that – boys.

  She was part of them, she joined in their banter, and she was totally involved in all the business talk. Phoenix was older and more of a friend to Rudy; he looked similar to him with long dreadlocks but his skin was darker. Ditto was the closest to Kelly. He would never forget what she had done for him that night Keffa came to apologise.

  Rudy finally came home with a huge grin on his face and four large bottles of rum in his hands.

  They piled the presents on the coffee table and waited for Lippy to come in. She finished the last layer of cream and proudly entered the lounge with her masterpiece.

  “Happy Birthday!” they shouted.

  Lippy blushed with pleasure and placed the cake on the coffee table beside the presents.

  The rum was poured and the food served. Kelly loved to see the family enjoying a special moment together. She had never celebrated her own birthday in such style. Her memories were cold. She received no birthday cake, unless she was allowed to visit aunt Bet. The only present was a second-hand coat or a book, but, of course, it was usually a religious one.

  She recalled the day she reached her thirteenth birthday. She had never asked for a party or if she could invite friends over for tea, as her mother would have slapped her across the mouth. Instead, she asked if she could go to the pictures. The girls at school were always going and chatting to each other about the big screen. Kelly wanted to see for herself, but her mother went into one of her rages and called her the devil. Kelly tried to explain that she would only be going to see a film like The Ten Commandments, which her mother had made her watch when it was shown on the TV, and that it was not devil worshipping but just a film. But, her mother didn’t listen; all she heard was Kelly backchatting and for that she dragged her to the shed. Kelly was too big to tie up, so she left her locked inside, along with the mice and beetles all night. By the time she was let out in the morning, she was frozen, and her body was shaking relentlessly. Two days later, she had collapsed on her bed, hardly able to breathe. Maureen tried to pull her from the bed, accusing her of faking being sick. So she tore her nightdress from over her head and pushed her in the bathroom and into the freezing cold shower. Kelly remembered the icy water attacking her body and her head feeling as though it was on fire. Then she was dragged from the bathroom and had her school uniform thrown at her. It was a case of getting dressed and going to school. She had it in her mind though she could go to the sickbay and rest.

  That morning, her mother walked her to the bus stop. All Kelly could see were the bright lights of the oncoming traffic with everything else seemingly a blur. The bus eventually arrived, and Kelly had to stand, as there were no seats left. She held on to the bar next to the exit door and watched as the fuzzy outline of her mother walked away. She never made it to school though. Instead, she collapsed on the bus and the driver had to stop and call an ambulance. She woke up in a warm bed with a nurse by her side. The nurse was asking who she was and who to contact to come and visit. Kelly wouldn’t answer any of the nurse’s questions: she was too poorly and feeling emotionally vulnerable. So she just closed her eyes and hoped she would die. Later on, in the afternoon, the hospital made enquiries with the school. They managed to contact Maureen, and by visiting time, she was there, with her loveless eyes peering down at Kelly.

  “You had better not be putting this on, Kelly. If I find out …” She stopped, as the doctor arrived and moved her aside. Kelly remembered his words like it was yesterday.

  “Kelly, you are very poorly, you have pneumonia, and we would like to keep you in for a few days.”

  Maureen tutted and the doctor quickly turned to her. “Are you the mother?” His tone was suspicious and openly critical.

  With a snooty expression and pursed lips, she nodded and glared back with her usual pretentious air of authority.

  “I find it hard you could not tell your daughter was so sick. She arrived here needing oxygen, so I am certain that she would have been in a poorly state a few hours ago,” he said, in a judgemental tone. He stared, as if he was waiting for an excus
e or a reasonable explanation, but all he got from Maureen was a roll of the eyes. “Right, when will she be home?”

  It was obvious that the doctor was annoyed and did not take too kindly to Maureen’s dismissive attitude, so he took a deep breath and replied, “When I feel she is fit enough!”

  Maureen glared at him in annoyance. “I will discharge her tomorrow and treat her at home. I am not one for hospitals!” she spat back.

  Kelly recalled feeling helpless and frightened. Please keep me here.

  “I think you have misunderstood the seriousness of your daughter’s condition. You will not be able to nurse her at home because you do not have the equipment. And, I will warn you now, if you try to discharge your daughter before she is ready, then I will fast-track a court order that she becomes a ward of the state. I am sure you won’t want that, will you?”

  He marched past Maureen but stopped in the doorway of his patient’s isolated room just long enough to hear Maureen say, “Wait till I get you home, making a fuss over nothing!”

  Dr Ranjam had had enough: he swung around and asked her to leave, telling her visiting was over. She didn’t argue but swanned off with her nose in the air. Running his hands through his thick mop of black hair, and in utter frustration, he visibly counted to ten. After calming himself, he approached his patient’s bed and gently moved the hair away from Kelly’s face. “We will talk in the morning, Kelly. You get some rest and I will be back.” She closed her eyes but listened to the doctor just outside the room. He was talking to a nurse. “If that mother comes back, make sure she is refused entry. I want Kelly’s door closed. Please pay special attention to her. That poor child … who needs a mother like that.”

  Switching back to the here and now, Kelly looked around at her new family and smiled. This was what a home should be like: being part of a warm, caring family where there was fun and laughter. Lippy handed her a bowl with her new curry recipe and Rudy gave her a small measure of rum. “Easy, shorty, with me special medicine!” he laughed.