Read Online The Dirty South by Alex Wheatle - Free Book Online Page B

have least taken out the Kentucky boxes from the back seat, Noel. And the fat-head butts. And is that what I think it is on the floor in the corner? Your ride stinks!’
    â€˜Yeah. My mother’s always telling me that I better not catch nodose from no ho so I’d better wear protection. Anyway, the car gets me from A to B and I have already woked a girl in here; a slim portable bitch but too loud. I just haven’t tidied up after it yet.’
    â€˜What girl?’
    â€˜Some junz called Nisha. She didn’t care the ride wasn’t clean… She’s got a buff body but the face ain’t saying too much. It’s only good for a BJ, not a kiss. And unlike you, I go for local chicks… She lives in those flats off Upper Tulse Hill. She’s got this best friend that I wanna wok too. She’s prettier.’
    â€˜Is your ride insured?’ I asked, purposefully changing the subject ’cos I didn’t want to get involved with the morals of Noel’s love life.
    â€˜Nope, you know I haven’t passed my test yet.’
    â€˜Then how did you get the tax disc?’
    â€˜Hassan. He’s gonna deal with my insurance thing too.’
    â€˜Who the fuck is Hassan?’
    â€˜Hassan. This Asian brother. You’ve seen him. He’s got bandy legs and a Gonzo-like nose. You know him, Dennis, from playing football in the park. He’s shit at football like all Asians but his older brother’s got an
ill
ride. A Mercedes sports! He goes out with that Spanish-looking chick Ida Lupino and he lives in those flats off Denmark Road, near Flaxman sports centre. His mum wears them garments that only let you see the eyes. You know, she probably wears that shit ’cos Hassan’s paps doesn’t want other brothers to know how buff she is. His family, or I should say his brothers, are in dodgy passports, fake documents and shit. They even do positive HIV test results. That shit is really popular with the Africans. Anyway, I just had to give him four pinkies and he just dealt with everything. Insurance, car tax, MOT. The deal was sweet so I gave him an eighth of skunk to show my appreciation… I’m telling you that Hassan is an artist. It was all good and Dennis when you find yourself a ride Hassan will deal with you too.’
    Four pinkies was four fifty pound notes and Noel loved the look of them. He would go into a post office or a bank with a wad of tens just so he could change them to pinkies… It made him feel good having them inside his wallet. But this car scam seemed too goodto be true. ‘Yeah, Noel. When I get a ride I’ll deal with this Asian brother.’
    Mary J. Blige was singing one of her heartfelt songs on Noel’s slide-out audio system. He was humming along with the lyrics. How could he be so laid-back about everything?
    â€˜So you’re packed?’ I asked.
    â€˜Well, not packed with a gun but I’ve got two metal bars under my seat. At first I put a couple of my mother’s kitchen shanks under the seat but the Feds could pull you up on that shit.’
    â€˜Your mother could pull you up on that shit,’ I replied. I swear I saw Noel wince.
    We pulled up outside the main entrance to the estate where I was jacked. Noel switched off the engine but kept the stereo system still playing. He looked at me hard again and I nodded. ‘Shizzle me nizzle,’ he laughed once again. He then torched half a big-head and passed it on to me after three tokes. ‘We’ll deal with those pussies,’ he added.
    Half an hour later, the sun was now hidden by the tower blocks and I was getting some terrible munchies. ‘There’s a chicken takeaway place just around the corner, do you want anything?’
    â€˜I’ll go,’ Noel replied.
    â€˜Why can’t I go?’
    â€˜ ’Cos you can recognise who jacked you and I can’t. Say I’m in the ride now and one of your jackers went by, how the