I woke with a jump as mum blasted into my room, all flapping urgency, "Don't forget I've not got a new phone yet, so call me at work if you need...
...She stopped in her tracks; her head tilted slightly upwards a sudden reflective look on her face. "What's up mum?" I asked, sitting up and shaking my hands through my Irish-fro; the first thing I do every morning.
Her head slowly rotated toward me, "I can smell your dad," she said. Still fuzzy from sleep and wondering if my nocturnal visit was a dream, I asked, "What do you mean?"
She wandered to the corner of my room, her head held high and nostrils flaring like a dog seeking out a pleasant smell, "Black & White, that hair wax he always used." She turned to me, "Remember, that strong coconut smell, have you started using Black & White?" She asked.
"No," I said, suddenly hit by the sweet cocunutty smell so familiar to me from my childhood.
"Can you smell it?"
"Yes, I can," I said, realising the man in my room wasn't a dream, but not sure he was my dad.
Mum sat on my bed, "It's a sign, he's reminding us that it's his anniversary next week, six years since he passed," she said, her eyes moistening as she blessed herself.
She wiped her eyes, and smiled, "He'd be so proud of you if he could see you now, you've blossomed into a stunning beauty, so clever and streetwise." She tussled my hair, "And he'd love the fro!"
My mind was whirring, so I changed the subject, "I'm taking the day off school today, mum."
"Why, are you feeling unwell?"
"I feel fine, I hurt my ankle yesterday and stupidly lost my phone, too, so I want to get a new one this morning and take it easy on my foot," I explained.
"Where'd you get the money for a new phone?" She asked.
"Josh gave it to me."
A suspicious look clouded her face, "Benita, he's not a gangster or in a gang, is he?"
I shook my head, "No, he's not."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
Satisfied she stood up and looked at her watch, "Crikey, I'm late," she said, dashing for the door.
###
Alone in my room, the smell tormented me. Was that my dad in my room last night?" I continually asked myself.
The prospect that it could be gave a whole new dimension to the situation I was involved in.
I couldn't grasp the concept that my dad would knowingly leave mum and I by faking his own death. If true it would have to be one colossal reason for my dad to betray mum and I in this way.
###
"Hello sweetheart!" Granny Grace's greeting stopped me as I limped along the high street on my way to the phone shop.
She stood outside the caff on the other side of the road, waving me over.
"How are ya? Hope you ain't too troubled by what that lot had in store for you and Josh," she asked, all cheery and chirpy.
"I'm alright," I answered. I felt like I should thank her, but 'thank you' didn't seem right when the deed involved killing someone.
She delved in her bag and pulled out the pistol, looking at it admiringly, "Oooh, I love me new toy, truly I do."
