Growing Yams in London (15 page)

‘Oh. Is she coming in today?’ Mel queried.

‘Yeah, about lunchtime,’ I replied.

‘Oh right,’ Mel said, shrugging. ‘Was Jordan alone?’

‘Yeah, apart from Nelson and Laura,’ I told her. ‘Why are you so worried about Jordan?’

‘Great! Well I hope it was worth it, Makeeda!’ Bharti said, storming off to our first lesson.

‘What is her problem?’ I asked.

‘I dunno, but I’ve never seen her like that,’ Mel said.

I spent the day being ignored by Bharti. It wouldn’t have been so bad if we weren’t in every single class together. I tried everything, even sending notes to her in English, which Ms
Ali confiscated. It wasn’t until lunchtime that I realised what I’d done. I switched on my phone to find four missed calls from Bharti and three text messages.

No wonder she hated me! I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten Operation Hitesh. Having to take Delphy by bus and then seeing Nelson had made me forget. I decided to reply
to her anyway.

I tried to speak to Bharti in the afternoon but, whenever I approached her, she ignored me and even managed to swap seats with Julia for the remaining lessons of the day.

At four o’clock, I saw my opportunity and raced up to her as she was putting on her coat.

‘Bharti?’ I said, but she turned away from me. ‘Bharti, please?’

‘What?’ Bharti spat out.

I was too shocked to reply straight away. It was something about the way she was looking at me – a mixture of hurt and anger. I knew I had totally messed up, but suddenly I wasn’t so
sure she’d ever really forgive me.

‘Makeeda, what do you want? I need to catch my bus,’ she said coldly.

‘I . . . I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I totally forgot and I shouldn’t have . . .’

‘Finished?’ Bharti interrupted.

‘Yeah.’

That was it. Bharti walked away from me.

‘Ohmigod, Makeeda, I’ve never seen her do that,’ said Mel, from behind me. I hadn’t even noticed her and Laura.

‘I know.’

‘You’ll sort it out in no time,’ Mel told me. ‘I’ve got to go, Makeeda,’ she added apologetically.

‘Maybe you just need to treat your friends better?’ Laura commented.

‘What?’ I said, turning towards Laura.

‘You know, the ones you’ve got left,’ she added under her breath.

I glared at her but said nothing. She was the one person guaranteed to make my day worse.

I just wanted the day to end, but I still had Tanisha’s farewell dinner and an airport run to get through.

Half an hour later, I arrived at my front door to the sounds of Tanisha’s favourite Motown song, blaring out from the stereo in the living room. I walked in, and Tanisha jumped forward and
began lip-synching to the opening words, whilst holding one of Delphy’s old toy microphones. Then Delphy herself jumped forward and lip-synched the next line of the lyrics, before they both
thrust their mikes in front of me to join in. Which I did, but I was laughing so hard that I tripped and made us all fall to the ground. Mum and Aunt Grace walked in just as we hit the chorus
loudly.

We had Tanisha’s favourite dinner: spicy mashed potatoes and fish fingers. She surprised us with her choice, but not Mum. It wasn’t until Delphy asked that I realised Auntie Jennifer
used to make it. Dinner seemed to end almost as soon as it had begun, and within an hour, Tanisha had said goodbye to Delphy and Aunt Grace and was in the airport with Mum, Dad and me, dumping her
suitcases on to a trolley.

‘You haven’t left any scissors, nail files, tweezers, or anything like that in your hand luggage, have you?’ Mum asked, as we joined the check-in queue.

‘No, Auntie. I came to London from the States!’

‘You won’t believe who I’ve just seen!’ Dad said excitedly.

As usual, he had bumped into an old friend. Flights to Ghana always ended up being a reunion of some kind, even for those who weren’t travelling, as far as I could tell. The last time
Nana-Amma visited, she bumped into an old school friend she hadn’t seen in twenty-five years!

‘Tanisha, where’s your passport?’ Mum asked.

‘I had it somewhere . . .’ Tanisha said, looking in her handbag.

‘Oh no,’ Mum cried out.

‘I’ve got it,’ Dad said, patting his top pocket.

Tanisha and I began laughing. We knew Dad had her passport.

‘That’s not funny!’ said Mum .

‘You know, I’ve been thinking. We could always join Tanisha in Ghana for Christmas,’ Dad said wistfully to Mum.

‘I’ve wondered about that for a while, but what about the garage?’ Mum said.

‘I’m sure Kyle could manage the place . . .’

‘Are you serious?’ I said, horrified. I had thought that if I didn’t mention what Nana-Amma had said, then there was no chance of Mum and Dad bringing it up. Boy was I wrong!
There was no way I was going to Ghana for Christmas. How could I leave all my mates? More importantly, what would happen to my relationship with Nelson?

‘You’d love it, Makeeda!’ Mum said.

‘Yes, you could meet all your cousins and see your grandparents,’ Dad added.

‘I don’t . . .’ I began.

‘Let’s get a drink, Makeeda,’ Tanisha said, practically dragging me away.

‘Don’t go too far away,’ Mum said.

Tanisha and I headed to the café.

‘Right, what’s up? I can’t leave without knowing who put that sad look in your eyes.’

‘I . . .’

‘’Fess up, Missy! I know it’s not just the idea of going to Ghana,’ Tanisha said, staring me down.

I told her everything about Bharti.

‘Feel better?’ she asked.

‘Not really.’

‘Well, I’m not surprised – the guilt you have . . .’

‘Tanisha, where’s my sympathy?’ I interrupted.

‘Listen, you didn’t kill her family, or steal her boyfriend. Bharti will forgive you. Eventually,’ Tanisha said, shrugging.

‘Great, so what do I do till then?’ I asked.

‘I’d leave it for a few days, then try again.’

‘Tanisha!’ Mum yelled.

Minutes later we were saying goodbye to Tanisha. I watched as she clung to Mum. There were tears streaming down their faces. I was really sad to see Tanisha go, but part of me was desperate to
reclaim my mother.

I had spent a total of two hours at the library: one hour researching my essay on Yaa Asantewaa and the other in a maths lesson with Nick. As I walked alongside him to the bus
stop, I couldn’t help wondering about Bharti. It had been three days since I apologised, but she was still ignoring me at school and hadn’t returned any of my messages. I’d met
Nelson after school and he’d told me not to worry. He said that Bharti just needed time to be angry and that she’d talk to me afterwards. Nelson even offered to speak to her, but I knew
he’d be the last person she’d want to talk to. Besides, he didn’t know Bharti like I did. This was huge. I’d totally messed up.

‘Makeeda, what’s up?’ Nick asked.

‘Oh nothing,’ I said.

I knew he’d be on Bharti’s side if I told him.

‘Come off it! You were actually paying attention in my lesson and didn’t touch your magazine.’

He was right. My magazine still had the transparent plastic over it, sealing the free lipstick. I’d left it untouched for thirty-eight hours.

‘Is it Nelson?’ he asked. There was a slight tinge of anger in his voice, which I didn’t understand.

Our bus pulled up and we raced to the top deck. Nick sat in front of me and turned towards me. He seemed to take up every bit of space in the seat with his stuff.

‘Well?’ he asked.

‘No, it’s not Nelson. What’s your problem with him anyway?’

‘Nothing. I just don’t want him messing my cousin around. That’s all,’ Nick said, looking away.

I smiled. Although I knew we weren’t cousins, it felt good to have someone on my side.

‘It’s Bharti,’ I said. Then I told him about our argument.

‘Are you mad? You can’t be missing school for him.’

‘Yeah, I know. That’s why I went in,’ I replied. ‘You’re going to take Bharti’s side, aren’t you?’ I added.

‘No, but she has a right to be pissed off, Makeeda.’

‘I know,’ I said.

‘I’m going to talk to her,’ Nick said.

‘What?’ I said, astonished.

Nick never ever interfered in what he labelled ‘girly stuff’, so left any minor disagreements between Mel, Bharti and myself well alone.

‘Yeah, she shouldn’t be blanking you for this long. It’s not important enough to fall out over.’

I coughed.

‘What?’ he asked.

‘Remember when Mikhail added too many blueberries to your banana surprise smoothie?’

‘Yeah?’

‘You didn’t talk to him for nearly two weeks!’

‘That was different. I was trying to impress the café owner in Edgware. Besides, that was business.’

‘He was still your friend though.’

‘Do you want me to help, or not, Makeeda?’ he asked.

‘Fine.’

‘Isn’t this your stop?’ Nick said, ringing the bell for me.

‘Ohmigod!’ I said, racing downstairs. ‘See ya! Oh and thanks.’

‘I haven’t called her yet!’ he yelled back.

I walked home feeling slightly better and was surprised when Dad didn’t shout at me for eating my dinner with my school uniform on. We were in the dining room. He was reading a car
magazine and drinking a beer.

‘Did you go to the library?’

‘Yeah, then Nick came and we did some maths.’

‘Good,’ Dad said, peering at me from behind his glasses.

Everything changed the minute Mum walked in. She was wearing Dad’s sweatshirt and jeans.

‘Makeeda, can I have a word?’ Mum said, throwing her keys on to the coffee table.

I noticed that Dad quickly made himself scarce.

‘Your friend left this for you today,’ she said, handing back my scarf.

‘Oh right, thanks,’ I said, taking it from her.

I suddenly remembered asking Nelson to put it in his bag for me as I was too hot to wear it when we were in a café.

‘Nelson. Who, apparently, is your boyfriend,’ she added, just as I was about to leave the room.

I stood still.

Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod! This is it! I’m officially making tomorrow’s newspapers. I’m a dead girl!

‘Anything you want to tell me?’

‘Well . . .’ I began.

I had no idea what my next words were going to be. Somehow I didn’t think that Mum would fall for the old ‘he’s just a friend’ routine.

‘Makeeda, do you know what it was like to be told by your daughter’s boyfriend that he even existed?’ Mum questioned.

‘Mum I . . .’

She ignored me and carried on speaking.

This was a total nightmare. I could feel myself getting angrier.

‘What do you have to say for yourself?’ she interrupted.

‘Well I . . .’

Once again she interrupted me.

This was ridiculous! The woman wouldn’t even let me speak.

‘You’ve lied to us! I can’t believe you’ve been lying to us. How can we trust you again?’

‘Mum, I’m sorry,’ I began, but she raised her hand and I stopped. For a moment I actually thought of bursting into laughter. The whole thing was just so stupid.

‘How long has this relationship being going on?’

I couldn’t believe the way she spat out the word ‘relationship’.

‘About a month —’ I said.

‘What?’ she bellowed.

‘What’s the big deal? Auntie Angie let Mel have boyfriends nearly two years ago.’

‘You’re not Mel and she is not my daughter. We have different rules, Makeeda,’ Mum said.

‘Ohmigod! It’s not like my grades have changed or anything.’

‘No, but they haven’t got any better either! Oh and if you think I don’t know about last week’s late mark, then you’re mistaken.’

I couldn’t help it, I rolled my eyes.

‘Don’t you roll your eyes at me, young lady! Who do you think you are?’ Mum said, raising her hand.

I knew I’d gone too far as she came close to hitting me.

‘Go on then!’ I whispered. I’m not sure why I said it.

‘Makeeda, if I thought hitting you would solve this . . .’ Mum said, sitting down. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘I never told you, because your precious Tanisha told me not to!’ I shouted. I couldn’t believe how wrong Tanisha had been.

‘What do you mean by “precious Tanisha”?’ Mum said, standing up.

‘You know, the daughter you wish you had!’ I screamed at her.

‘Makeeda!’ Dad said, looking from Mum to me again, as he came into the room.

I ignored him and carried on.

‘The one you prefer spending all your time with! The one you never ignore!’ There were tears streaming down my face.

Mum just stood there, staring at me with the strangest look on her face. It was a combination of extreme anger and devastation.

‘Oh God,’ Dad whispered.

‘You always —’ I began