‘Hi.’ Anika looks into his handsome, youthful face, still so unused to seeing familiarity in another person. Some of the fortitude she’s bred into herself comes back to her at last, and she clears her throat. ‘Hey. Fucking hell. Kwesi, it’s really good to see you.’ Nodding towards the stage, she adds, ‘That?Was unbelievable.’
Unexpectedly, a grin sparks Kwesi’s face alight and he leans down to embrace Anika tightly, giving her a quick but emphatic hug that makes her emit a short laugh, a mixture between pure delight and awkward surprise. As they pull apart, Cam’s expression is even more puzzled than his usual quizzical demeanour.
‘Cam, this is Kwesi. He’s my … well, he’s my half-brother.’ She flaps her mouth open and shut, wondering whether she needs to elaborate more, but Cam steps in smoothly, his hand outstretched to shake the younger man’s.
‘Oh, OK!’ Cam says, in a manner that acknowledges the revelation of the introduction but with a tone that doesn’t belabour it. ‘Nice one, man. The set was sick.’
Anika watches Kwesi’s face as he begins to register who Cam is, and his other hand reaches to clasp the handshake into a morevigorous sandwich.
‘Wow, big fan, man! I used to listen to you since back when you were on Pressure FM—’
‘Hah!’ Cam says. ‘You must have been a yout those times! I practically was myself.’ He pats Kwesi’s hand then releases it, putting an arm around Anika’s waist casually. ‘Talent runs in the family, I see.’ Anika notices Kwesi’s jaw tightens a little. ‘How long you guys been playing?’
Anika watches her brother’s eyes darting back and forth over to her as he explains the trajectory of his band, and she finally lets herself acknowledge that although this encounterhasbeen a surprise for her, it’s a welcome one. Hasn’t she been thinking about this for a while? Maybe shehasmanifested this reunion. Now that she knows what she’s dealing with, there’s even more opportunity to take back control and make this something good. But as Kwesi wraps up his summary, the drummer, Rita, bounds over to them, grasping Kwesi tightly around his slender middle and popping up by his side.
‘Who’s this?’ she asks by way of greeting, staring between Anika and Cam, her eyes like an owl’s beneath the lenses of her oversized glasses. Her voice may simply have been attacking the volume of the music that has started up over the speaker system, but Anika doesn’t think she’s mistaking the hostility.
‘Um … this is Cam Asiedu,’ Kwesi says, beginning with the easier of the pair, most likely. He eyes the girl meaningfully.
‘Oh, OK, cool,’ Rita replies, sensing that this is someone she should know about, but clearly not quite able to access that knowledge. She looks at Anika expectantly.
‘And this is, um … this is Anika.’ The introduction suggests they’ve discussed her before, but Anika reaches out her hand to shake Rita’s. It’s ignored as the girl turns and looks up at Kwesi.
‘As in … ?’ She leaves the rest unsaid, now glaring back at Anika like she’s radioactive. Kwesi nods wordlessly, and Ritaunsubtly leans on his shoulder to whisper something up in his ear, cupping her hand to disguise her mouth like they’re in the playground. Anika purses her lips in irritation as Kwesi shakes his head emphatically, but his friend ignores him.
‘Look, kismet or whatever,’ Rita is saying more loudly, and then turns back to Anika. ‘You should know he wasreallyfucking hurt by that shit you did. Thinkinghemust’ve done something wrong?’ She shakes her head vigorously. ‘The number of times I’ve had to talk him out of trying to get in tou—’
‘Drop it, Reet,’ Kwesi interrupts sternly.
‘He washurt, though? Like … d’you get it? That was fucked.’ Rita continues, slurring a little and ignoring him, squinting her eyes accusingly at Anika. ‘He could have done with a proper sister after losing his dad like that. Someone to look out for him, not one that just shovels more rejection in his face.’
Anika steps away from the tightening grip of Cam’s arm to stand closer to the blonde girl’s face. She can smell wafts of liquor on Rita’s breath, which goes some way to explaining her behaviour, but does nothing to quell Anika’s reaction to it.
‘We don’t all get whatever we want, sweetheart.’ Anika’s voice is a growl. ‘Some of us go through stuff, OK? Things you could neverimagine.’ Flashes assail her mind: her dad, frail. Herself, lying on a hospital bed trembling and vulnerable. The wordgone. The worddead. ‘Maybe don’t chat about shit you know nothing about!’ Anika’s voice escalates as she speaks these last words, and a background part of her registers spittle flicking between her teeth. Rage has burst up so abruptly it almost frightens her.
Rita squares her shoulders, her small frame wide and sturdy-looking. ‘Tell yourself whatever you want – end of the day, you’re still a selfishbitch.’ The last word thuds between the two of them and Anika can’t let it lie. She faintly hears Cam saying her name, attempting to placate her, but like a thunderbolt Anika’s handflies out and she pushes the younger woman smack in the centre of her forehead. She feels the heel of her palm connect hard with Rita’s brow bone, sending the girl toppling backwards into a low table full of drinks and empty glasses. The fall is almost silent due to the carpeted area of the bar and the pounding music surrounding them, but there’s an audible gasp from the patrons nearby.
‘What the fuck, Anika!’ Cam shouts, pulling her backwards at the same time Kwesi folds his tall frame down to help his friend as she quickly starts to sit up, unhurt but indignant. Kwesi glares back up at Anika, his face incredulous.
‘You should learn to speak for yourself,’ Anika tells her brother through gritted teeth, the rage still thrumming every pulse of blood in her veins.But it’s misplaced, so misplaced. Again. Fuck, Anika, she thinks faintly. She’s been angry for so long that it’s hard to know why any more, even when she thought she left it behind. Angry and scared and …
No matter where it came from, the energy still needs to be displaced. She wants to kick and scream at the world, wishing shepunchedRita, wishing the violence of what she’s done was ten times worse just to get all the pent-up feelings out of her body now that they’ve surged up like a tsunami from some unknown hiding place.
‘What’s going on?’ Tina was at their side now, partly ready to back her friend, but also eyeing the customers in need of placating, already complaining about their lost liquids. ‘Neeks, what happened?’
Anika only realises she’s still struggling to lash out when she feels Cam’s fingers grip her biceps tighter, restraining her against his body and letting go only to wrap his arms around her waist – but not in an embrace, more in an attempt to keep her immobile. ‘It’s OK, Anika! Anika, shh. Shh. Calm down, it’s OK.’ His words are urgent at first, then pacifying, gradually allowingher to diminish the fervour in her muscles. She spins around within his grip, allowing Cam to squeeze her tightly into his body, hiding her face in his neck. Anika wishes his arms would tighten and tighten and never stop. Each expanse of her ribcage to breathe feels better against the restriction of his unmoving embrace.
‘Jesus, is she all right?’ she hears Tina ask, sounding a bit scared, but Anika ignores it. Hot tears streak down her cheeks.Out of control. Out of control.The words thrum in her ears.This isn’t how it’s meant to be.She sucks in one last breath then wriggles free of Cam’s grasp.
‘I’m sorry,’ Anika whispers in the vague direction of him, then again at her friend. She’s not able to assess the damage to the girl, and absolutely not willing to look back and see any more of the reaction from Kwesi.
Instead, Anika grabs her coat and bag and runs for the exit, out into the street.
Chapter Forty-One
Sweat dampens Anika’s armpits and speckles her forehead as she rushes outside. All she can think about is how much more specific she’ll have to be in the diary from now on. This type of thing isn’t supposed to happen. She remembers, ironically, her assertion that she’ll win every fight she encounters.
Maybe it wasn’t so wrong after all.
