Tani wanted to believe that, but he had reached a point from which he reckoned love wasn’t going to make anything good. He rang for the lift and went down to the family’s flat. He tried the door. It was unlocked. He swung it open and stared at what lay before him.
A rampage had occurred after his departure. It had worked destruction upon the kitchen and the lounge. From where he stood it seemed that every piece of crockery and every drinking glass was broken. The cooker was dented. The cast-iron pan that had done the denting was on the floor. Pots and pans lay helter-skelter, and blanketing some of them were pages of his mother’s cookbooks.
In the lounge, the television’s screen was shattered and a small table was discarded in front of it. Two lamps had been destroyed and three head wraps were pulled to pieces. In the midst of them, though, Tani saw his mother’s mobile. He picked it up and shoved it into his pocket.
He reckoned he knew where the passports were because his father kept a locked fireproof box beneath the bed he and Monifa slept in. Along with the locked box were several plastic containers with Monifa’s cool-weather clothes. Tani decided he would take these as well as the passports, so that when he finally saw his mother, he’d be able to encourage her not to return to Mayville Estate.
When he opened the door to his parents’ bedroom, what he saw forced him to set aside his plans. Abeo was on the bed. He was fully clothed, asleep, and snoring.
At the sight of his father, Tani’s first inclination was to leave at once. But no, he decided. He was done harbouring fear of this man. So he approached the bed, knelt at its side, and found the box where it had always been kept, its key in the single lock.
With his gaze fixed on his father’s face, Tani pulled the box slowly from beneath the bed. He turned the key and began sorting through the box’s contents as quickly and silently as he could. Inside, he found birth certificates, some paperwork relating to Into Africa and the butcher shop, receipts for rental payments made for Lark’s flat in Pembury Estate and this flat in Mayville Estate, and old photographs. He found no passports, and all the family money was gone.
Instantly, Tani felt a burning leap of fire within him. He got to his feet. He stared down at his sleeping father. He realised then that he’d always hated Abeo Bankole. He simply had not allowed himself to feel the strength of it.
Tani took up the fireproof box, stood over his father, and emptied its contents on him. Abeo awakened with a start. He clocked Tani at once, but he didn’t seem concerned about his presence, even when Tani snarled, “What’ve you done with them, you fucking bastard?”
Abeo smiled slowly. “I have learned she is called Sophie Franklin. I am told she’s an English whore.”
“Where are the passports?”
“Stoke Newington, I’ve been told. Once I learned her name, this was not difficult, Tani, especially when someone has not bothered to take care.”
“What d’you think you can do to her? Or to her family? Her mum, her dad, her sister, her brothers? D’you really think any of that lot’ll stand round with their mouths hanging open when you try to bully them? Not bloody likely, Pa.”
Abeo brushed the various documents and photos from his body. He said, “You should have been left in Nigeria. When I saw you, I knew you were not my son.”
“Wishing that doesn’t make it true,” Tani said. “If it did, I would’ve been out of here first time you put a hand on me. I would’ve got myself a ticket to Nigeria and searched him out, whoever my ‘real’ dad’s supposed to be in this fucking fantasy you’ve got in your head about Mum doing it with . . . Who? Her brothers? The postman? Her own dad? You’re pathetic, you are. You’re so sodding transparent I feel sorry for you.”
Abeo fixed his gaze on Tani. Tani saw one of his fists slowly clench.
He went on, heedless of everything other than what he needed to say. “You could’ve had a decent family, Pa, but you didn’t want that, did you. You didn’t want a wife. You didn’t want children. You wanted a servant and two slaves to do whatever you said. Well, you’ve lost us all, you have. And you’re never going to find Simi, so give it up.”
“Evering Road,” Abeo said. “You do nothing, Tani, that I do not know.”
He rose, but Tani pushed him back onto the bed. “I want those fucking passports! You’re not taking anyone anywhere. I’m not going with you to Nigeria and Simi sure as hell isn’t going with you. Fact is, you’re not ever seeing Simi again. And you’re not seeing Mum because she’s gone. She left th’estate with that Black detective. An’ who can blame her, eh? He’s ten times the man you’ll ever be and way I hear it, he’s lookin for a woman. An’ Mum? Well, you can be sure she’s lookin for a real man.”