Read Online From Pasta to Pigfoot by Frances Mensah Williams - Free Book Online

accepted by the others girls as being ‘just like us’.
    It was at school that Faye had met her best friend, Caroline Duffy, a cheery redhead whose Irish father, a working class builder, had made a fortune during the property boom. Brendan Duffy was determined that his children would have the best of everything life and his wealth could offer and, although he was initially taken aback by his daughter’s choice of best friend, he and his wife had quickly grown fond of Faye, who over the years spent almost as much time in Caroline’s house as in her own.
    It was when she was fifteen that Faye first began to realise that her assimilation had, in some ways, been a little too successful. It was a rainy Saturday afternoon andshe and Caroline were listening to music in her friend’s huge bedroom. Mrs Duffy’s sister, Eileen, who had been visiting from Australia where she’d emigrated with her husband, had walked into the room as Faye was teaching Caroline a new dance move that she had picked up from a music video.
    Watching the leggy teenager move gracefully around the room, Auntie Eileen remarked admiringly, ‘My word, Faye, you dance well. Mind you, they do say you people all have marvellous rhythm!’
    Faye came to an abrupt stop, embarrassed by the woman’s careless remark. Even more confusing, however, was Caroline’s response. ‘Which people?’ she asked her aunt curiously. ‘What, you mean the girls from my school?’
    Later that evening, after telling Lottie about the incident, Faye had struggled to explain her feelings.
    â€˜I know I’m black, Lottie,’ she said. ‘But, it’s like Caroline and the other girls see me as white because we’ve all been friends for so long. You know, it’s like it’s a compliment that they don’t see me as any different from them, but why can’t they just like me and see me as black?’
    It was a question that neither Lottie nor anyone else had ever been able to answer for her over the years.
    Now, at almost twenty-six, despite having found herself a black boyfriend, she stood accused of being racially rootless and, to add insult to injury, she thought indignantly, by a man even paler than Caroline.
    â€˜And where was Michael in all this? Didn’t he stand up for you?’ Lottie’s expression showed that she already knew the answer.
    Faye sighed. ‘You must be kidding. He just kept rolling his eyes and glaring at me like I was the problem.’
    â€˜So, if he won’t stand up for you, Faye, when are you going to stand up for yourself?’ Although her tone was mild, her flushed face showed that Lottie was trying hard to keep her emotions in check.
    Faye looked at her curiously. ‘What do you mean?’
    Lottie sighed. ‘Faye, you are twenty-five and sometimes you act like you are still a teenager. You let Michael get away with murder and I don’t know when you are going to realise that you don’t have to put up with him. I know you’ve had a sheltered life—’ She raised her hand to stop Faye’s protest. ‘No, hear me out. You weren’t brought up on the streets of Glasgow like I was – you’ve gone from a private school in Hampstead to working in the same quiet little company for years. You’ve had your father, William and me looking out for you and coming to your rescue all your life. Look, I understand better than anyone that you’ve not had to deal with the real world in many respects, but Faye, it’s time for you to grow up!’
    Faye’s eyes reflected her shock and hurt at Lottie’s words. ‘But it’s not my fault that I don’t have a clue about their culture,’ she burst out. ‘You should have heard him, Lottie! “It is our responsibility to stay close to home – you don’ do that, you jus’ a slave to the white man!”’ She tried – and failed – to