There was a moment’s silence while they all savoured the delights of Alexei’s delicious food before Shunty-Mae remembered something.

‘So, tell your mother – who were you walking with on the beach?’

Imelda sighed. She had thought they had left that topic of conversation safely behind them.

‘Grisha, of course.’

Shunty-Mae put down her fork and looked directly into her daughter’s eyes, which were the same astonishing colour as her own and inscrutable to all except the woman who had borne her. She reached across the table and placed her hand over Imelda’s. ‘Be careful,’ she said.

Chapter 14

Chapter 14

1973

Treasure was white. Except for the tracks of his tears. He stood perfectly still on the edge of the school playing field dripping with paint and tears, an upturned bucket at his feet. He was ashamed of who he was. Not the colour of his skin, but that he wasn’t brave enough to be proud of it. Proud like his dad with his stories of how he sailed to England from his home in Jamaica on a big ship called Empire Windrush. How they’d arrived at Tilbury Docks in the summer of 1948 and his dad and many others had had to stay in an old air-raid shelter until they could find somewhere to live. Treasure had heard the stories so many times that he knew every detail. His dad always spoke about it as though it had been a great adventure – sailing halfway across the world to start a new life in what he always called the ‘mother country’. He never talked of being scared or being treated badly, only about how exciting it was. But Treasure had worked out that his dad had been only eighteen at the time – just seven years older than he was now. Treasure couldn’t imagine going to London on his own, let alone another country. And how was he supposed to be proud of who he was when so many people seemed to hate him just for being himself?

_______________________

‘You need to come to the school as soon as you can, Mrs Campbell. The headmaster would like to have a word with you.’

‘Is Treasure all right? Has something happened to my son?’

Ruby was breathless from rushing back to answer the phone – she had just left the house for work – and now her heart raced at the sound of the school secretary’s anxious voice. The hesitation before the reply was almost imperceptible, but distinct and deafening to Ruby’s ears.