Web of Lies by Beverley Naidoo Read Free Book Online Page A

asked in his “I’m being nice to my younger brother” voice.
    “Mmmhh!” Femi nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak like James.
    “Do you want to show me?”
    Femi shook his head with a quick smile. Why didn’t James just get out of here as soon as possible?
    “Aahh! Likes secrets, does he?” The salesman put his finger to his lips. “I used to like secrets when I was a boy.”
    “Probably just wants to get back to his lunch!” James put his arm on Femi’s shoulder. “We’d better be getting home. Thanks for your advice on rackets.”
     
    “Like I said, piece of cake!” Outside, James was back to his usual voice.
    “Where did you learn to speak like that? If that man heard me talk, he would know you weren’t my brother!” Femi’s tone wavered between admiration and complaint.
    “Nah! I knew you’d act the part. So what did you get then?”
     
    Femi was relieved to find that both Sade and Papa were out when he returned to the flat. He expected Papa to question him about swimming. He would prefer to keep silent rather than make up a story. But if he didn’t tell Papa something, Papa might become suspicious. On the other hand, if Papa found out that he was telling lies, he would be in big trouble.
    Femi pulled out the T-shirt from his backpack and laid it on his bed. If only his school football uniform was this color! He could imagine that he was playing for Arsenal instead of Avon! He would get onto the team and Papa would come to watch him streaking down the field with the ball….
    A sudden question sent his mind tumbling. How could he wear a brand-new T-shirt without Papa or Sade asking him where he got it? If he had taken the cap, he could probably have said a friend lent it to him. What use was a T-shirt that he couldn’t wear? How stupid! Hurriedly he rolled the shirt up as small as possible, then opened each of his drawers in turn to find the best hiding place. In the end he stuffed it into the bottom drawer. But he banged it shut with so much force that the small photograph on topof the chest toppled over in its wooden frame. Setting it up again, he barely glanced at the figures in front of the flaming forest trees that had served as goalposts in their backyard in Lagos. Papa was standing behind Sade with his hands on her shoulders while he stood in front of Mama, cradling his football. Mama’s arms encircled him. Their arms seemed to entwine.
    Had Femi stopped to gaze a little longer, he might have heard Mama’s soft voice.
    What kind of game are you playing now? What are its rules?
    Instead, he pulled the bedroom door shut behind him, made himself a peanut butter sandwich, and sat down to munch it in front of the television. When Papa came home, he would tell him how Arsenal had scored.
     
    S UNDAY 21 ST S EPTEMBER
    9:30 P.M .
    Heard a horrible story today, Iyawo. We visited Aunt Gracie and Uncle Roy today and little Bonzo next door didn’t greet us with his crazy barking and rattling the fence. Their neighbors got him as a puppy from Animal Rescue when Aunt Gracie and Uncle Roy took care of Femi and me when Papa was still locked up.
    Everyone loved little Bonzo with his white fluffy eyebrows and eyes like black shiny buttons. Aunt Gracie said that when she was a girl in Jamaica, their neighborshad a scary big black Labrador who had also been called Bonzo. She joked that the Jamaican Bonzo had been reincarnated as a little terrier to cut him down to size.
    Today the neighbors’ house was very quiet. The moment Femi asked about Bonzo, I could tell something was wrong. Aunt Gracie didn’t want to tell us, but Uncle Roy said she should.
    “We can’t hide these things from the children, you know! Let them hear, Gracie!”
    As soon as he said that, we had to know. This is what Aunt Gracie told us:
    Their neighbors’ son Marco has got mixed up with a gang of crack dealers—and he’s only my age. His parents sent him to private school because they thought that Avon was too rough.