Sour: My Story: A troubled girl from a broken home. The Brixton gang she nearly died for. The baby she fought to live for.. Tracey Miller
chiffon blouse.
“Don’t like it either. Looks cheap, innit,” said Stace.
“Wasn’t asking you,” snapped her sister.
“Sour?”
Keziah and Stace were happy-go-lucky girls, don’t get me wrong. They liked likking stuff and wearing the best gear. And they had their fun. But, how can I put this? They delegated. They didn’t do the dirty stuff. They sent the other girls out to the shops to tief all their tops and skirts and shoes for them, but, end of the day, it was still just petty theft.
“Boob tube,” I muttered, unconvincingly.
I was still thinking about how that yout had managed to evade the boydem for as long as he did. Don’t care what he done – what that kid achieved was almost heroic, man.
Keziah and Stace proudly laid out the rest of their gear across the bed. Kez plucked a bandanna from the pile and pulled on a silver-spangled crop top, exposing her tight, flat midriff. She pouted in the mirror, flicking back her hair to show her gold hoops.
“You look like Aaliyah, babes!”
“We’re thinking of going to Bond Street tomorrow. You in?”
“Nah, stuff to do, innit,” I shrugged.
I was bored of shoplifting. I knew I wanted more. It wasn’t my style. I could easily go robbing the garage across the road, or into town, and come back to survey our goods with the rest of them, but it no longer held a thrill for me. If these girls wanted me to keep coming to their house, I wanted more. I needed entertainment.
I was soon to find it.
A new life was about to begin. The irony was that my association with the Younger 28s began nowhere near the ganglands of Angell Town or Brixton or Loughborough Junction, but the one place as close to an Eden of childhood innocence as a South London girl like me was ever going to get.
Ladies and gentlemen, I’m talking, of course, about Chessington World of Adventures.
Yeah, my first day rolling with the Man Dem was on a school trip to the distinctly non-gritty, suburban surroundings of a Surrey theme park.
Like I said, Dick Shits had many problems. One of them was its popularity with the bad boys. Despite what the papers say, despite all those London Tonight reporters in suits and ties, talking down the camera about feral kids beyond the reach of teachers, parents and police, the truth was that some of the city’s most troublesome young gangsters liked the lawless vibe of my school so much, they muscled their way through the gates and gatecrashed the lessons.
That went for school trips too – especially school trips involving Tomb Blaster laser guns and a rollercoaster called Dragon Fury.
They met us at the tube station, pushing their way on to the carriage in the same way they filed into classes.
There were lots of different rugrats running around, but these youts were different.
They were all dressed decently. Their trainers were fresh, their haircuts were fresh. Hell, even the waistbands of their boxer shorts were fresh. They looked older, though they couldn’t have been much older than us – they were just expelled a long time ago.
They weren’t hard-out established characters. Not then. They were all still young, trying to find their way and make their mark, just like the rest of us. But back then, it felt like Vinnie Jones and all his mates had just stepped on to the tube.
The loudest ones commandeered the seats in front of us, placing shining white creps on the seats and commanding the attention of the carriage.
A boy with a broad grin came up to Tyrone and knocked knuckles before exchanging a few quiet words.
“You know him?” I whispered.
“Just one of the boys from the estate, innit. Told ’em we had a trip but didn’t think they’d actually come.”
I smiled.
“I like them. Think we’re in for an interesting day.”
The moment we stepped into the park, the two-tails scurried round.
I had my own plans. I had my own delegating to do. They were ready to steal anything they could lay their hands on. I gave them a target.
“Let’s see if you’re going to hit it.” They nodded, solemnly.
“Meet me back here by the toilets at 3pm.”
The tallest of the group caught my eye. Or rather I caught his. He walked over to me and Tyrone. While he was brash and loud, the friend by his side had a quieter confidence.
“Who’s this girl telling everyone what to do?”
Tyrone answered for me.
“This’s Sour, innit.”
I glared at him. If he had taken a liking to me I wasn’t interested.
“Check you out, gyal,” he laughed.
I noticed he too had his own gang of rugrats to carry out orders. It was almost like he had a shopping list of his own. He wanted to compare.
“What you hitting today? How much you planning to make?”
“Why would I tell you that? Only just met you, man. Where do you think you’re coming from?”
Tyrone laughed.
“Slow down, man,” said his friend, flashing a beautiful smile. “Lady wants an introduction. Allow me,” he said, stepping forward. “That’s Badman. His manners ain’t so good.”
“Quit stepping on man’s territory, Drex.”
“Ain’t you got business to do?” he laughed, joining the rest of the Man Dem as they jumped the queues, slipped past the ticket booths and created havoc.
“He don’t like the rides,” Drex explained.
“Why not?”
“Paranoid. Y’know the pictures they take when you’re screaming and getting tipped over the edge? The ones they try to sell you after the ride?”
“Yeah, and?”
“Man don’t trust ’em, innit. Thinks boydem will use them as evidence against him.”
“Evidence of what? Looking shit scared?”
Drex laughed.
“Dunno. That’s a guilty conscience for you.”
“Come on,” he said. “I’m feeling lucky. Let’s go on the Mary Rose.”
I was surprised how forward he was. He clearly wasn’t used to girls hesitating.
“Just me and you?”
“Why not? Man Dem will find us later.”
I looked at the swinging galleon ship. The two-tails weren’t due back for ages. I had time.
“OK. So you’re not scared about having your picture taken?”
“Maybe my conscience ain’t so guilty.”
“Alright, let’s go,” I said. “Just remember you don’t have to scream or anything, but it may harm your defence if you don’t scream something you’ll later rely on in court.”
He laughed. “How’s a girl like you familiar with that?”
“Ain’t telling you,” I smiled. “Hurry up. I gotta be back here for 3pm.”
When the ride was over, I was heading towards the exit, windswept and dizzy, when he grabbed my hand.
“Where