Brixton Bwoy Page 8

  Roland didn’t like this new turn in Tee’s life and would often warn him to be careful with these lads. But Tee would just tell Roland to relax. Pearl saw Tee only for what he was at home. If she had known the circle her little brother Pupatee was running with, she might have done something. But she didn’t, and so it went on. As for what Joe would have done – well, he was completely out of the picture now.

  Of course, this little firm had certain expectations, and with the unfashionable clothes Joe had bought him from the cheapest shops, Tee was sadly failing to meet their dress code. Even his best shoes were just an old pair of Joe’s winkle-pickers, which were the laughing stock of Brixton. The boys all wore mohair and staypress material, makes like Harrington, Ben Shermann and Brutus. Pearl didn’t have much money, but Tee pleaded with her, and after several weeks of saving and promising, she took him down to Temple’s shop on Railton Road and bought him a two-tone suit, reddish from one angle, blueish from another.

  They went home and Tee put on the suit. He swanked out to Shepherd’s and when friends told him how good he looked he felt on top of the world. But when he found Big Youth and Boobs and the gang, they all started laughing. It was Big Youth who finally spoke.

  ‘Nice, Tee,’ he said. ‘You’re a decade out, but it’s all right.’

  Tee had been in England nearly five years. He was fourteen and almost as big as a man. But England still felt to him like a fairy-tale land, a place he didn’t belong to, where his future was too fantastical to worry about. Something would happen once upon a time and he had no more say over it than he did over the behaviour of giants or beanstalks. And if he didn’t know where he was going, it didn’t bother him. Life to him was what he made of it at that instant.

  Later, all he would be able to recall was that he was easily excited, easily drawn into mischief, easily led astray. He believed that this was the way of everybody.

  Living with Joe, he had had every excuse for behaving badly. He was alone with a brutal brother. If he was bad, then he was beaten into badness. But in fact, Joe’s beatings had kept him disciplined. He borrowed Joe’s bike, and stole small amounts of money, and got into fights. But he did what almost every kid does. The friends he had in Camberwell were never into more than petty mischief. And he would have backed away from anything more serious both for fear of Joe, and also, in a funny way, out of respect for him. Joe was the most honest man in the world. If he had found a twenty-pound note on the pavement, Joe would have handed it in to the police.

  Now that he was in Brixton with Pearl and her family, Tee was the happiest and most comfortable he had been since leaving Jamaica. By rights he should have settled down and learned from their honest influence. But he was so used to Joe’s harsh discipline that without it there was nothing to control him. Love and kindness weren’t enough to keep him on the straight and narrow. Or perhaps it was simply his own nature. But while Roland worked at his music and his education, Tee would sneak out to busy himself with less honourable pursuits. When he wasn’t nestled in the bosom of Pearl’s family, he would be standing about on the street corners of Brixton with his new-found friends, Scoby, Big Youth and all the others. They were more than friends, they were a gang, christened the Herbies after the weed they smoked. It had been coined as a dismissive term, in reference to their degenerate ways. But they took it as a compliment, and adopted the name.

  That first summer in Brixton the trees were bright and green, and the blue sky was filled with birds flying low and singing sweet melodies. Mothers and fathers and all their children filled Brockwell Park and the open-air swimming-pool. At weekends, sound systems were set up and sections of the park were packed with people dancing, playing, laughing, eating and listening to the sounds of Sir Lord Coxon, Duke Reid, Sofrano B, Duke Vin, and TWJ. There were always thousands of people at those dances, black and white, and the Herbies would be there, spreading out and having fun.

  One day, in the school holidays, the Herbies decided to cycle down to Battersea Park. It was the same old problem: Tee didn’t have a bike, so he had to stay behind. It was no use bothering Pearl to buy him one, as she found it hard enough clothing and feeding him. But when one of the Herbies said he was going to nick a front wheel to replace the buckled one on his bike, Tee’s mind was made up. A few days later, he was in Peckham when he saw a brand-new, ten-gear bike leaning against a wall. Without a moment’s hesitation, he jumped on and rode away. In a flash he was in Brixton, where the Herbies stared open mouthed in admiration at his slick new vehicle, eyes popping out of their heads. Tee was bursting with pride.

  ‘You’d better get it painted before the Old Bill sees it, mate,’ said Big Youth.

  ‘Well, I can’t take it home,’ Tee said. ‘Could you look after it and perhaps put a bit of paint on it for me?’

  ‘No problem,’ said Big Youth.

  It was nearly time for dinner, so Tee left the bike and went home all excited. The following day, he knocked on Big Youth’s door and asked for his bike.

  ‘It was best to give it some changes,’ Big Youth said. Tee stared in horror at the bare frame he was holding, the chain drooping off like a greasy necklace.

  ‘What happened?’ he said, fury rising inside him.

  Tee listened while Big Youth blamed Mike, and Mike blamed Big Youth. He turned from one to the other, not knowing who to blame, and soon the other Herbies turned up and the story was told all over again – how Tee had found this beautiful new racing bike and given it to Big Youth and Mike to look after, and how the next morning there it was, all stripped. Everyone laughed and laughed. Tee thought it was a crime, but the others seemed to think it was a big joke. When the story had been told for the umpteenth time, Tee simply took the frame and threw it in his back yard, where it stayed while the Herbies continued to ride down to Battersea without him. But he kept one of those bike spanners in his pocket, and a few days later, when he saw a bike chained up by the front wheel in a side street in Herne Hill, he checked to see no one was around and then took off the back wheel. At every moment as he walked away he was sure he would hear a sudden cry of ‘Thief!’ but before long he was home and fixing the wheel on to his frame. Soon he was out hunting the streets for a front wheel. It wasn’t long before he came across a bike chained by its back wheel so out came his spanner and then he had a two-wheeled bike. Big Youth gave him a seat and brakes, and he went to the bike shop and bought some second-hand cow handlebars. He stripped and sandpapered the whole bike down to silver – frame, handlebars, brakes and all. The next time the Herbies ventured out to Battersea, Tee tagged along with them on his silver bike, enjoying the fun.

  In Battersea Park, they would head for the steep, rough hill. At first Tee was frightened, but he steeled himself and flew down it, gaining respect from the other Herbies for his fearlessness. On the days they didn’t go down to Battersea, they just hung around the neighbourhood, riding their bikes and trying out tricks. Soon Tee could ride with his hands behind his back like everyone else.

  They all wore Levi’s jeans and Dr Marten boots. Even Tee soon had a pair of Levi’s, but he was desperate for some DMs. Eventually, he resorted to asking sister Pearl if she could help. She promised to see what she could do, and a few days later she took him out shopping. She couldn’t afford Dr Martens, but bought him some cheaper monkey boots. They seemed perfectly good to Tee, but the next day when he went out he was the laughing stock of the whole gang. Monkey boots were simply not Dr Martens – though in the end, Big Youth told him not to worry. ‘Boots are boots,’ he said, and that was the end of that.

  One Saturday, some of the Herbies said they were heading off to the West End. Tee asked what they were going to do. They didn’t tell him, but said he could go along with them. So off he went on the tube with Big Youth, Mike, Trigger, Boobs and Johnny. They didn’t need any money, as they never paid on the tube. They would simply walk past the ticket collectors. Sometimes the collectors wouldn’t even notice them walking through in the crowd, and if they did notice an
d call after the boys for their tickets, they would simply ignore them and walk on out into the street.

  They arrived in the West End and were soon lost in the Saturday afternoon crowds. Tee had not often been to this part of London, and he was dazzled by all the shops and fashionable clothes. Everything was so busy. The pavements were packed with people going about their business – shoppers, tourists, couples with pushchairs and gaggles of noisy teenage girls, chattering, laughing, stopping to look at cinema posters or in shop windows. Others were pushing past in a hurry to get somewhere. There were people hopping on and off buses in the slow-moving traffic; the lights changed from orange to red to green and back again, and pedestrians darted between the cars as their drivers honked impatiently. The sight and smell of the food being served at the little hot-dog and hamburger stands made Tee’s mouth water. There was so much to take in, and people wove around him as he trailed open mouthed after his friends.

  Tee followed Big Youth and the others into a clothes shop, where they all wandered about, admiring the expensive clothes. When they left, they headed for a quiet side street, a few blocks away from the shop. There, Big Youth and the rest started pulling out shirts and trousers from bags they had been carrying with them, taking off their coats to reveal brand new jackets beneath. Tee was amazed and impressed.

  It was not long before Tee was joining in the shoplifting. If anyone needed new clothes, it was him, because Pearl couldn’t afford to buy him much. So the next time the Herbies set off to steal clothes, he went prepared.

  It was a Saturday. They split up into small groups so they would not look so suspicious. Tee went with Big Youth and Mike. He was wearing a long coat with a couple of plastic bags in the pockets. In his hand he held a big carrier bag with a shirt already in it, to look as if he was shopping.

  Big Youth, Mike and Tee walked into a shop where there was only one assistant. He came over to them right away. ‘Can I help you?’ he said, smiling at them.

  ‘Is it OK if we just have a look around?’ asked Big Youth in his most polite voice.

  ‘Certainly, sir, be my guest. What kind of clothes are you looking for?’

  ‘A suit,’ Big Youth said.

  ‘Suits are over this side. If you’ll come with me, I’ll show them to you.’

  While Big Youth and the shop assistant busied themselves with the suits, Mike and Tee headed over to some beautiful Prince-of-Wales-checked jackets. Tee tried one on and it fitted him perfectly. He glanced around. The shop assistant was not looking. So he pulled off the tags and threw his coat over the top, buttoning it up tight. He turned to the mirror, and saw that he looked just as cool as when he had entered the shop. He couldn’t believe he had stolen such an expensive jacket.

  Big Youth and the assistant were still occupied, so Tee found some nice trousers in his size and as he was stuffing two pairs into his big carrier bags, he heard Big Youth say to the assistant, ‘Just got to go and change some money at the change bureau and I’ll be back to buy that suit.’ With that, they left the shop and a block or so away, Tee took off the jacket and put it in his bag. They were really shopping now!

  In the next shop, Tee stalled the assistant while Big Youth and Mike both went to town. After a while, he heard one of them say, ‘Come on, Mum and Dad will be waiting for us.’ This was the green light for them to go.

  ‘Are you open late tonight?’ Tee asked the assistant.

  ‘Yes, we are, sir.’

  ‘I’ll be back later,’ he said. ‘When I’m sure what I want.’ And they walked out. He couldn’t believe it was so easy.

  Tee was jealous when he saw all the gear Big Youth and Mike had nicked in such a short time – jackets, shirt, trousers and a pullover. Even so he was pleased with his first effort.

  They took the tube back to Brixton and went straight from the station to the Blue Lagoon café. It was packed with locals playing table football and pinball, eating, watching television and talking. Tee was still carrying his bag, and some of the other lads, who knew where they had been, asked to see what he had got. Tee took out the jacket and saw again what a beauty it was. Its brown, white and gold checks dazzled his eyes. Breezely nearly popped out of his head with jealousy.

  ‘Let’s have a wear,’ he pleaded.

  ‘You must be mad,’ said Tee. He’d learned his lesson over the bicycle.

  At home, Tee sneaked into the house and up the stairs past sister Pearl who was in the kitchen with Selena. Richie and Roland were upstairs drawing pictures of comic heroes like the Hulk, Spiderman and Captain America.

  ‘Wha appen Tee?’ they said.

  ‘Wha you mean?’ he replied.

  ‘Wha dat you have deh in you bag?’ Roland asked.

  ‘Some things me stole.’

  He showed them his new clothes and Roland looked them over enviously.

  ‘They’re nice,’ he said. ‘But you’d better watch yourself and what you’re doing.’

  ‘I’m all right, man, you no see me never get catch.’

  ‘But you may one day,’ Richie said.

  ‘Well, me didn’t today, so forget it.’

  The following Friday night, when Tee wore the jacket to Shepherd’s, the whole club must have commented on how nice it looked and Tee’s head was soon swollen. Boobs was there, with his half-caste girlfriend, Gee. So were Big Youth and Mike, both dressed extra sharp. When Gee’s friend told Tee how smart the jacket was, he went into the men’s room to look in the full-length mirror. ‘Boy, Tee,’ he thought, ‘you look wicked.’ That night he went into the men’s room again and again to admire himself in the mirror.

  Tee and the Herbies didn’t go stealing every day. Sometimes they would just hang about on the streets playing childish games, and nobody seeing them would have dreamed that they were capable of anything criminal. And sometimes Tee stayed at home with Roland and Richie. But he had found an easy way to get nice things, and once he had a taste of the good life, he wanted more. He never stopped to think what it might do to sister Pearl, though he had enough sense to hide his activities from her.

  In those days, up from the Herbies was a gang of older, wiser, badder boys called the Rebels, led by a very advanced and educated villain known simply as Rebel. These boys were always dressed from head to foot in the best clothes, and had the most dazzling girlfriends. Rebel and his sidekick, Buzzer, even drove their own cars, and they were always loaded down with pocketfuls of cash.

  Tee idolised Rebel, Buzzer and the rest and wanted nothing so much as to be one of them. He could think of no better life. Even if one of them was sent off to borstal for a crime, his girls and friends would carry on talking about him non-stop, and the day he came home the welcoming laid on for the returning hero would make Tee wish it was him just getting out.

  The Rebels’ uniform was a long, thick, green and silver checked coat, and at clubs and parties they always stood out. They were not to be messed with. Tee was a fast-growing boy, well mannered and eager to make friends, and it was not long before he and a few others of the Herbies began to get noticed by the Rebels. Eventually, Big Youth or Trigger or one of the Herbies discovered the shop that sold the Rebel coats and it wasn’t long before they’d all managed to steal one.

  The next club night, when they wore their coats to Shepherd’s, the Rebels asked them where they had got them. They seemed upset and told the younger boys to take it easy and not go to the shop too often and hot it up for them. But before long, all the bad boys who saw themselves as future Rebels had got themselves a coat and slowly but surely the Rebels grew into one big family, drawing members from several gangs all over Brixton. Most of the members were from Jamaican families, but there were also an Indian (they called him Coolie), a couple of Chinese-looking West Indians, a few Greeks, and some whites. What made you a Rebel or a Herbie wasn’t the colour of your skin, but growing up in Brixton and the friends you had.

  The Rebels made their money by stickdropping – pickpocketing. Big Youth and Mike and Tee soon began to try this for t
hemselves. A couple of the older boys gave them a quick lesson, showing them how to distract people and then dip into their pockets using their first two fingers like pincers. Later, Tee came to learn there were many pickpocketing tricks, but the use of the fingers like pincers was the main art. They had to be strong – good pickpockets would exercise their fingers, and Tee even heard of some who deliberately broke and then fixed their index fingers so they made better pincers for dipping – people could not feel your hand in their pockets and handbags.

  It wasn’t long before Big Youth, Mike and Tee set out for the West End to try some stickdropping for themselves. Walking through the crowded streets, packed with shoppers and tourists, they saw the world in a new light. Handbags and pockets drew them like moths to a light bulb. They went into a busy clothes shop. Tee noticed a man who had taken off his jacket, which was draped over the back of a chair, and was trying on something in the changing-room. Tee crept over and quietly dipped into the jacket pocket and came out of the changing-room, and Big Youth, Mike and Tee quickly slipped away.

  Out in the streets, they opened up the wallet. At first they thought it was crammed with nice brown tenners, but on closer examination the notes were found to be some strange money. Tee took in Mike’s long face and Big Youth’s silence, and he walked away saying, ‘That’s rubbish money.’ They didn’t follow him and he went off on his own. This time he tried the real thing, pickpocketing from a jacket a man was wearing and then walking away innocently, as if he was another tourist. It was a good touch, and when he got back to Brixton and saw Big Youth and Mike he excitedly showed them his ball of five-pound and ten-pound notes. To his surprise, they showed him an even bigger ball of tenners. They had known all along that the money in the wallet was simply foreign and could be changed at any bureau along Oxford Street.