Now that she thinks about it, the only time she knew someone who reacted to sudden awkwardness with calm reassurance was that night thirteen years ago, trapped in a laundry room.
Chapter Five
That Night
Saturday 4th July 2009
‘Let me in!’
Like her hand was pressing its way through syrup, Anika moved closer to the door of the laundry room and reached for the lock. She flipped it then pulled her hand away, clutching it towards her chest like she’d been burned. The door burst open and she stumbled back against the washing machine. Kwame stared at her for a split second then whipped around, slamming the door shut again and urgently twisting the lock back into place. He stood turned away from her for a moment, panting. The breadth of his back expanded and contracted against the cling of his white T-shirt, which was lightly damp with perspiration. His frame wasn’t especially tall, but he had an aura that made him seem bigger, with his stocky torso balanced against slim legs clad in black Nike track bottoms. He blew out a longer breath as if steeling himself, then turned to face Anika.
‘You,’ he said, with the inquisitive pull to his brows and head tilt that had become so familiar to her in the short time she’d been observing him. His dark skin shone in the dim light of the room. She was too far away from the switch to turn the light back on and so the only source of illumination came from the small rectangular window near the top of one wall, which caught the glow from a nearby streetlamp. ‘What you doing in here?’
Anika blinked at him. ‘Hiding.’ It was one truth, but she couldtell he took it as another.
‘Fair, fair.’ He glanced behind him towards the door. The music was still rattling it, but the energy on the other side was different. Anika had a feeling the house had emptied out, but uncertainty kept her rooted to the spot – that, and the fact that Kwame clearly wasn’t planning to leave any time soon, and she was still shocked that he was actually standing in front of her. ‘This is mad,’ he added, looking around. ‘I thought it was a cupboard or something.’ His eyes landed back on her. Their whites glowed, surrounding his black-brown piercing irises. His heavy upper and lower lids framed them into a slight squint of near-permanent curiosity and assessment. And now his eyes were focused on Anika, unblinking. He folded his arms and took a step forward. She wanted to back up, but she had nowhere to go. He wasn’t at all threatening, though. Just that palpable sense of inquisitiveness emanating from him. ‘Aaa …’ He unfolded one hand and clicked his fingers at her. ‘Aaa … Anita. New chick, yeah? From over the road.’
She nodded, then froze in disappointment at realising his mistake. She hesitated to correct him and then it felt like the moment had passed.
‘Kwams,’ he was saying, pointing at his chest.
She nodded again, feeling the clip-on ponytail she’d attached to her bun tickle between her shoulder blades. She’d worn a strappy turquoise tank top over her low-rise jeans, the ones that, when she’d stood on tiptoes in the changing-room mirror in Topshop, she’d been convinced made her legs look long and shapely. But when she’d got home, she’d been forced to trim them jaggedly with scissors so that the bootcut bottoms didn’t just bunch around her rattan flip-flops. They were still her favourites, regardless.
‘Yeah, man, I dunno,’ Kwame said, despite her not having said anything. ‘I’d reckon chill here for a sec till it dies down outthere, innit. I’m not in the mood to deal with feds tonight.’ He was still concentrating on her and he flicked his chin in her direction, his smooth, wide lips tilting up slightly at the corners. ‘You’d be all right though. They shouldn’t hassle the likes of you.’
Anika wasn’t sure if that was some kind of slight. She wanted to say something, but her initial response was just a shrug. She gripped her small bag where it hung at her hip and the action nestled its faux-leather cross-body strap closer in between her boobs. She loosened her grip, not wanting to draw attention to them. She was only just getting used to the attentiontheydrew. But Kwame concentrated on her face.
‘Maybe not,’ she replied at last. ‘I’ve just been waiting for …’ She tailed off and stared at him. Unexpectedly, a slow grin beamed to life across his face. His teeth were even, white and beautiful. He freed one hand from his folded arms again and wagged a finger at her.
‘You’ve been lurking in here, dodging your peers, innit!’ he said with a triumphant laugh. ‘I get it, man. This party wasdry.’ He shook his head, still smiling towards the ground, then looked back up at her with a raised eyebrow, wrinkling his forehead a bit. ‘And, like, must be tough rocking up here not knowing anyone and that. Where was you before here?’
‘Down in East Sussex,’ she replied.
‘Yeah? I don’t even know really where that is, you know.’
She let out a short, wry laugh. ‘Neither did I. My mum married some bloke when I was twelve and we moved down there for a bit, from Streatham. They just got divorced, no surprise.’
‘OK.’ He nodded. ‘Yeah, I didn’t know you was actually from the bits.’
His stare was relentless. She felt the need to continue. ‘Yeah, kind of.’ She knew what he was implying. ‘I don’t know why, I just ended up sounding like this.’
His hands moved into his pockets and he rocked back on hisheels, his chin tilted up at her. Anika was slightly mesmerised, watching his idiosyncratic movements up close. His eyes squinted down at her even more. ‘Sounding like what?’ He chuckled, then repeated it quickly. ‘Sounding like what, though?’
Anika squirmed under his questioning, fiddling with her bag again and looking down. ‘I dunno, like—’
‘Nah, nah, nah, man.’ She was surprised at the forcefulness of his speech even as he smiled at her, his chin still raised, his eyes still narrowed. ‘Nah. Clarity, that’s what you’ve got.Clear communication.’ His eyebrow arched even further as his eyes bored into her and Anika nodded, partly because he seemed to want to make sure she agreed with him, and partly because the way he said it meant she faintly believed it. Kwame relaxed his stance, his limbs becoming fluid as he settled back onto his feet and slipped his hands out of his pockets so they could clap together, once.
‘So now you’re back in ends,’ he said, then turned slightly as they both heard some voices nearer the door, talking faintly and urgently under the ongoing playlist – Skepta and co declaring they needed more girls in here. Kwame pressed his lips together a bit, frowning, then turned back to her. ‘How you finding it?’
‘Hmm? Oh. Yeah. OK, I suppose. It’s … it’s … well, I’m hiding in a utility room, so …’
‘Hah!’ Kwame exclaimed, grinning widely, then the head tilt returned as his smile faded a bit. ‘But you know, that’s on us lot really, though. We should have welcomed you more.’
Anika smiled a bit. ‘Yeah. Your sister’s been pretty safe so far.’
‘Is it? Good. Glad to hear it.’ Kwame exhaled hard and pulled a phone out of his pocket as it beeped a text. He shook his head and then typed something quickly back. ‘Speaking of which. Zaya, man. I told her not to try jump that fence,’ he muttered to himself. ‘Always got to be balancing on the edge …’ He shook his head, took a step back and leant against the door, then began toslide down it like he planned to sit.
‘Uh – I wouldn’t!’ Anika said quickly, and he paused mid-slide, like he was sitting on an invisible chair. ‘Floor’s wet.’
