As far as Tani could tell, nothing had changed since the night his parents had argued. Abeo still wanted something from Monifa. Monifa had not given it to him. Both of them were stone when it came to each other.
After the meal, Abeo shoved his chair back from the table and left them. He disappeared into the family bathroom and the water began noisily filling the tub. Monifa stood and started to clear the table of their plates and the remains of the food. She said, “Simi, you will help me,” and Simi scampered off to do just that. She cast a glance at Tani as she snatched up glassware in the crook of her arm. He could see she was uneasy with the change that had come upon their family: everyone avoiding conversation, their parents at some mysterious odds, and her coming “celebration” a topic no one seemed willing to bring up any longer. That part was just as well, he thought. He would have hoped everything to do with that was fast becoming a distant memory.
It was an hour before Abeo left the bathroom. He went from there to the bedroom he shared with Monifa, and Tani thought at first he would not emerge again that night, punishing all of them with a silence that contained a fury he couldn’t adequately conceal.
Tani went to his own room, and from beneath his bed, he found the rucksack he’d used in secondary school. He emptied it and went to the clothes cupboard he shared with Simi. He was reaching for one of her summer dresses when she came into the room. He dropped his hand and turned to her. No way could he tell her what he was doing.
She said, “Papa is cross, Tani.”
He said, “Yeah, but it’s got nothing to do with you.”
“What’s it got to do with, then? Is he cross because you tol’ him you won’t marry that girl?”
“Omorooki or whoever she is?” Tani said. “Tha’s part of it, that is.”
“An’ the rest? Is it about . . . Tani, is it about me?”
“You jus’ stay out of everything having to do with Mum and Pa, Squeak. Less you’re involved in wha’s going on, less anyone’s thinking about you. Which, lemme tell you, is a good thing jus’ now.”
“I don’t un’erstand.”
“Tha’s just as well.”
He heard his parents’ bedroom door open. He cracked the door to his own room, wide enough to see Monifa going inside to join his father. The sight of her made his muscles go tight. He didn’t know what she was willing to do to keep the peace, and he didn’t want to know.
It was dark when he heard their door open again. He was sitting on his bed, waiting for Simi to fall asleep so that he could pack up some of her clothes without her knowledge. He heard his mother say, “Abeo, can you not—” before the door shut again. He eased open his own door in time to see his father crossing into the lounge, fully dressed, and trailing the scent of aftershave, the signal he was leaving for the night.
Tani turned to Simi. He whispered, “I’ll be back. No noise, you got that? Mum’s not to know.”
“？’Kay,” she said. “But where . . . ?”
“Don’t know. Like I said, I’ll be back. Go to sleep.” He waited till she’d settled in, at least to try.
He traced his father’s steps and went out into the heavy humid night. He didn’t see Abeo at once, so he listened carefully. A dog barked, and he followed that sound.
Closer to the barking dog, he saw the unmistakable burly shape of his father. He was in no apparent hurry, looking merely like a bloke out for a walk in the hope of escaping the heat inside his home. He was strolling towards Woodville Road. There, he turned left, and Tani jogged to catch him up. He was in time to see Abeo heading in the general direction of Kingsland High Street. But the route he was taking took him to deserted streets, with housing estates and tower blocks defining the places where families slept, doing their best to cope with the temperature that even darkness had not relieved.
Finally, Abeo came to the high street. Here, too, no one was about. The air felt thick with the heat, as if the temperature wished to be absorbed into the storefronts, invading shops long closed for the night. The exhaust fumes from the day’s heavy traffic seemed to ooze from the pavements, and wheelie bins puffed out foetid clouds from rotting vegetables and the remains of takeaway meals.
Abeo crossed over, throwing a glance back the way he’d come. Quickly, Tani faded against the navy-painted grille that covered the entry to an Asian furniture shop, with the hope that this would be enough to camouflage him from his father’s gaze. It seemed sufficient, as Abeo continued on his way, and minutes later he made the turn into Ridley Road.