CRUEL SECRETS Read online

  He leaned forward and whispered, “I can’t read, nor write, ya see, so I need someone to do it. I can’t ask me friends ’cos … well, just ’cos.”

  With enormous relief, she eagerly replied, “I can do that.”

  Rudy felt a lump in his throat. She had almost brought him to tears with her angelic face so eager to please.

  That was a fair deal and Kelly was too afraid and cold to be outside. She would have to take the risk he was telling the truth. With that, he got up to leave.

  “Mary, me Irish beauty, put that on me tab!” he called.

  “Bye, Rudy, bye sweetheart,” she replied.

  Kelly smiled to herself. So, his name was Rudy. She would have to make one up for herself.

  It was one of those old Victorian houses with a basement and three further floors, but from the outside, it looked small. The net curtains were grey and hanging unevenly, the paint was peeling off the walls, and the large sash windows were rotting away, but Kelly didn’t care – she just needed a bed.

  They walked up two steps and went inside. She was surprised by the light glaring from the hall and the smell of skunk which hit her as she followed him in. A reggae thumping sound was coming from upstairs and there was laughing to be heard from a room near the back. With rooms to the left and the stairs on the right, she could just make out a kitchen directly in front. She heard voices and then a large black woman, dressed in shorts, a crop top, and a purple weave, came into view, waving a huge spoon.

  “So, you finally decided to come home, then?”

  Bouncing with her hand on her hip, she sucked her teeth. Kelly felt self-conscious and awkward.

  “Ahh, man, what are you doing with that chil’?” she asked, as she rudely pointed to Kelly, who could barely understand her thick Jamaican accent.

  Rudy laughed and bounded towards her. He slapped her behind and then turned to face Kelly. “This, here, is me niece.” He was now speaking with a Jamaican twang.

  Expecting her to argue, Kelly was surprised that the woman just sucked her teeth again and pointed at the chair in the kitchen. “Sit, chil’,” she invited pleasantly. Kelly wanted to laugh. How the hell could she be his niece? She was white, with green eyes, and there was no resemblance whatsoever. She guessed it was his way of saying, “Don’t ask questions.”

  She quickly took a seat and gazed around the large kitchen. It wasn’t modern or particularly tidy but it was warm. Pots were boiling, pans were frying, and the oven was seeping steam. It must have been three o’clock in the morning but the house was noisy and full of action.

  Two big black men joined them and again she struggled to understand their accents. One man, by the name of Pat, leered at her with malicious eyes, and, unexpectedly, he leaned over the table and ran his hands down Kelly’s face. He was a huge man with big hands.

  Kelly could just make out what he said. “I’ll take her home with me.”

  Oh, sweet Jesus, what have I just gone and done? But before she could try to escape, Rudy was across her with a blade at the big black guy’s face. His eyes widened and he backed off.

  “Hey, easy, man, just joking, I thought she was—”

  Before he could finish, Rudy snapped back, “Well, she ain’t.”

  Deliberately, he tucked the knife at the back of his jeans and nodded at Kelly. “She is me niece. Any of you touch her, I’ll fucking cut ya!” The man looked down in shock, as did the lady with the purple shorts. They were just as surprised as Kelly by Rudy’s threat.

  Kelly was still frozen to the chair, when, all of a sudden, there was a commotion coming from the stairs. It sounded as if someone was tumbling down them. At the same time, she heard screaming. “No, boy! No, boy!”

  The two big men, Pat and Phoenix, sitting at the table opposite Kelly, jumped up and flew against the wall, gripping each other for dear life. Rudy was already on his feet and the woman went as white as a black woman could. Then, Kelly saw him bounding towards the kitchen; he was a good fifty kilos of mastiff, snorting and growling. He charged into the room, snarling with gunk falling from his slobbery chops. Kelly could almost taste the fear in the room; even Rudy jumped onto the counter, screaming, “Grab his lead!”

  The young guy, who chased the dog downstairs, she later knew as Ditto, went off to fetch the lead. Then there was silence, as the animal stood in a stance staring at Kelly.

  “Don’t move, baby, don’t move an inch.” Rudy was trying to keep his voice low, now terrified the dog was going to rip the child to pieces.

  She wanted to laugh because she wasn’t scared of animals – people yeah, but not this big old dog.

  “Sit, fella,” she said, in a flat tone.

  The dog cocked his head, his snarling stopped, and he slumped his heavy body down. As Kelly put her hand out to tickle him under the chin, he moved closer, nudging her knee.

  “I know, boy, it hurts,” she whispered.

  The tension in the room was so incredibly tight. She leaned down and nuzzled her face against his and kissed his forehead. He gave her his paw.

  “There you go, you big softy.”

  As she looked up, everyone was open-mouthed and Rudy was scratching his head.

  “He is a killer devil and will bite any white-skinned man,” said one of the men, still pressed against the wall.

  The other guy laughed. “She must be Rudy’s niece for real, ’cos he can smell the black in her.”

  “That beast is a dangerous dog, bit more than ten people already. I, for one, am not going near that thing,” said the woman, sucking her teeth. “This chil’ has special powers. Nobody can touch that dog, except to put his lead on.”

  Kelly laughed because she felt safe, she laughed because she was happy, and she laughed because this was so far removed from her own life.

  The big black guy sat back down at the table, and as he leaned forward to apologise for his previous comment, the dog growled and Kelly laughed again.

  “Hey, are you still hungry or do you wanna see ya room?” asked Rudy.

  Kelly was tired, and yet, in a peculiar way, she was enjoying the excitement. The smell of the curry mixed with the skunk, the manner in which they spoke and joked, she didn’t feel awkward anymore. She knew she could be herself, whatever that was. But who am I? she thought. All her life she had been told what to think, what to say, and what to wear. Penny was right, she was boring. Before her circumstances had changed, the only thought of her own was that one day she would find a job and run away from her mother, even though she didn’t have a clue what she wanted to do for work. Here, though, it was as if she could be someone. They were admiring her because she wasn’t afraid of their soppy animal. Oh, Kelly, you are just dreaming, get a grip.

  The spare room was small, as he had said, but it did have a bed, a clean quilt, and a pillow. The window was dirty and the net curtain had holes in it, but overall, it was just fine.

  “Get your nut down, shorty, and come and find me when you get up.” With that, he winked, closing the door behind him. But before she had a chance to test the bed, he was back in. “Oh, yeah, the bathroom is on the first floor, first door on the left, and there’s a toilet just through the kitchen.” He winked again and was gone.

  She was relieved to feel safe; the way he had looked at her with affection reminded her of her aunt Bet.

  The gentle reggae beat was somewhere in the distance, the muffled voices were comforting, and eventually she nodded off to sleep.

  When the morning arrived, the sun streamed in through the window and she was sweating under the thick duvet. She had been too afraid to remove her school uniform. She pushed back the cover and lay there, cooling down, going over yesterday’s events. It was like a dream, a fuzzy memory. Then, reality kicked in; she was a murderer, and, somehow, she needed to make a plan because for sure the police would catch up with her soon. After all, they would easily recognise her, as she had the same damned uniform.

  The kitchen was buzzing again, and this time there were two young guys
, sitting at the table, tucking into a fried egg sandwich. Kelly smiled and took a seat.

  “Hey, you Rudy’s niece?” asked the younger one, Ditto. She had briefly met him yesterday.

  She shyly nodded and said good morning to the woman with the purple weave and dressed in a fluffy dressing gown with some net over her hair.

  “You want fried egg toasties, chil’?”

  “Yes, please, err ...”

  “Tulip, but everyone calls me Lippy.”

  She had to think quickly. What name should she use? Her real name was plain old Kelly Raven.

  “An’ your name, honey? What’s yours?”

  She didn’t hear Rudy behind her. “This, here, is Blue.” He ruffled Kelly’s hair. A strange sensation engulfed her. She felt as though she really was his niece and her name actually was Blue. But that was probably because deep down she wanted to belong to someone. She didn’t care if he was a dangerous Yardy skunk-smoking gangster, she just wanted to belong. In the time she ate that fried egg toastie, five or six people came and went and the atmosphere was so laid-back. There seemed to be no rules, but if there were, they were unspoken. The only firm statement made was she was Rudy’s niece, somehow giving her respect. It seemed odd though how none of the others questioned it.

  Once Kelly had finished her meal, Rudy led her to a room at the back of the house; it was like an office, yet it was messy and disorganised. There, on a small desk, was a computer. He pointed to a chair and she sat facing the brand-new machine.

  “So, Bluey, how do I turn it on?” he laughed.

  It then occurred to her he was talking more like a cockney. She supposed they used their Jamaican accent or patois, as it is called, when talking to each other.

  Straight away, she got to work, plugging in the charger, downloading the apps, and setting up Google. Within ten minutes, she had it up and running. Then, it dawned on her, she had done the job, and so she had in fact paid for her room, but she didn’t want to leave just yet. Where would she go?

  “Um, can I do anything else to help … only I’m ...” she paused, not sure how to ask if she could stay a little longer.

  “You skint, need money, Bluey?”

  Kelly looked to the floor and bit her lip, and at that point Rudy sensed not only her embarrassment but her predicament.

  “Yeah, I got plenty, only it’s our secret, right? Got it?”

  Her eyes widened. This was so exciting: no one had ever trusted her with a secret because no one had ever got close enough to ask.

  “I want you to teach me to read and write. I wanna be able to use that thing. I wanna make sure none of me men are diddling me out of me dough. Get what I mean?”

  Kelly was ecstatic; maybe she could hide out here.

  “Another job I have for ya. You can train Legend, that mad dog, and I will pay you well for that.”

  So, she ended up in Peckham with her so-called uncle Rudy. Kelly learned quickly who everyone was and what was what. Lippy, with her ever-changing hair colour, was a prostitute, but she only worked the weekends. She ran the house like she was everyone’s mum. Reggie and Ditto were Rudy’s sister’s sons. They had been living with their uncle since they were very young, when their mum succumbed to drug abuse. The two big guys, she had met the first night, were Rudy’s foot soldiers or so he called them – Pat and Phoenix – although they didn’t live there. But there were always people coming and going. The house was the nerve centre for a variety of highly profitable but illegal enterprises.

  The next day, she was woken by a tapping on the bedroom door. She jumped into her tartan school skirt, pulled the same jumper over her head, and then called, “Come in.”

  Rudy popped his head around the corner. “Hey, Bluey, I have to go out, sort out me business. So, take this, buy some clothes. See ya later,” he said, as he threw her an envelope and left.

  She sat back on the bed and opened it to discover a wad of twenties. She had never seen so much money let alone held it. Perhaps he was testing her to see if she would run off without sticking to her end of the bargain. But she wouldn’t have because she liked it here. The excitement made her feel alive. She didn’t want to spend all the money but just enough to cover a couple of changes of clothes. Lippy gave her directions into the town centre; it was only a ten-minute walk. Rudy had given her four hundred pounds.

  This was a new experience, having money and being allowed to spend it on whatever clothes she liked. She must have looked a right moron, walking around in a school uniform on a Sunday in the cold with no tights or socks. She wandered through the market stalls, feeling the excitement of being able to purchase any one of the outfits and all within her price range. She bought jeans, tops, and underwear. She had never been allowed to wear jeans; her mother would say they were worn by a tart. Then she spotted the coats, some fake and fur-lined, with a fur hood. She wasn’t allowed to wear fur either, as her mother said they were slutty accessories. The final items purchased were a pair of fur-lined boots with heels and a pair of slippers. She was surprised that her two huge bags only came to eighty pounds. She didn’t want to be greedy, but as she walked back, she saw a range of make-up in the health and pharmacy window. She used the excuse she needed to purchase a toothbrush and toiletries. Aware that Rudy had said to buy clothes, she hoped he wouldn’t go mad if she just added a little bit of lipstick and mascara.

  As soon as she reached home, she put her clothes in the bedroom and then handed Lippy back the door key before she headed for the bathroom. Placing her own toothbrush and toiletries on the window sill, along with everyone else’s, she felt at home. It was a good feeling to have a hot bath, wash her hair, and comb out the knots, and afterwards she pulled on clean white knickers, new jeans, and a sweatshirt. Her best buy, on sale for a pound, was the pair of slippers, into which she slipped her feet, and now she was feeling so much happier about herself and with life in general.

  Lippy shouted up to say she was going out to fetch some groceries, and the house was silent, all except for Legend, whining from the upstairs bedroom. She opened Rudy’s door without going in and let Legend out. His whole body swayed as he wagged his tail. She took him into the lounge and played games. It was surprising how quick and eager he was to learn new tricks although, of course, a Rich Tea biscuit helped with his motivation. So engrossed in training Legend, she didn’t notice Lippy had returned. She marched past the lounge with heavy bags only to be followed by Legend, making a dash into the kitchen, snarling and growling. Lippy dropped one of the bags and stood rigidly to the spot.

  “Legend, come here,” Kelly commanded, calmly and quietly.

  He turned and was instantly by her side. Lippy, a deathly white, was visibly shaking. Normally, the dog was kept upstairs in Rudy’s room.

  Worried, Kelly picked up the shopping, which had rolled all over the floor, and helped Lippy to take a seat.

  “Sorry, Lippy, I was training the dog. I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “It’s all right, chil’. You ’ave that devil’s dog under control. Take no notice of me.” She looked beyond Kelly at the dog, whilst Legend stared eagerly at his new mistress.

  “Go get your ball, Legend,” she instructed, and with that he returned to the lounge.

  “I swear you ’ave super powers. That animal likes no one, but if you stop him biting me, then that’s just fine.”

  “Shall I make you a nice cup of tea?” asked Kelly, afraid that the little slip-up could cost her her room.

  Lippy raised her eyebrow. “No one ever makes me nothing, sweet chil’. I think I need a tea. I just seen me whole life flash before me.”

  That was how Kelly and Lippy bonded. Lippy showed her kindness, but she never asked about Kelly’s past and Kelly never probed hers. They now had a mutual understanding, and for the first time in her life, she was treated as an equal. She assumed it was the dog thing that intrigued Lippy.

  That evening, Lippy cooked an enormous pot of curry and everyone who lived in the house came into the lounge to
eat. It was a big room, with three large sofas and an old leather grandad chair that belonged to Rudy – his throne, he called it. It was a relaxed atmosphere and one that Kelly was not used to. She couldn’t remember sitting on a sofa to eat dinner; it was always up at a table, with her mother’s eyes glaring and tutting if she smacked her lips. Kelly didn’t care that she was the only white person or had a plain accent. With a new purpose in life, she hoped she could make this home a permanent one and be a part of this mishmash of a family. Legend was allowed downstairs as long as she was around because the dog did everything she told him to do. It was then she learned how everything functioned. Rudy had everyone working illegally, but for the benefit of the family business, as he called it.

  Pat and Phoenix picked up the drugs; they were in the distribution department. Solly, another big black guy, who didn’t live there but was always in the house, was the finance man, and he also collected the money. Ditto and Reggie, the two younger men, Rudy’s nephews, were in charge of the fake merchandise. To Kelly, it all seemed a well-run business and yet so far removed from her own life. In fact, it was probably the exact opposite, as she thought about her mother and how she would have a fit if she knew how her daughter was living.

  “Did ya get some clothes, Blue?” asked Rudy, through mouthfuls of food.

  Proud of her new wardrobe, at a fraction of the cost compared to the top-quality shops, she was pleased to tell them she had been down to the market.

  Rudy looked up and put his plate on the floor. “What?”

  Ditto and Reggie were rolling around laughing, whilst Phoenix nearly choked on his food. Kelly was left dismayed; what was so funny and shocking about that? Instantly, she was back at school, with the kids teasing and laughing at her clothes. The sadness crept over her, and she felt as if her new life was just the same as her old one.

  “Ditto, take her upstairs and sort her out, will you?” Rudy shook his head, laughing, and returned to his curry.

  Oh, my God, what did he mean by ‘sort her out’? She felt clammy and sick.

  “Come with me. I have your skinny ass size,” said Ditto, still laughing.