Free Forest Gate by Peter Akinti

to see him.'
    'I thought you'd want to be alone. You knew I was there, right?' He didn't meet my eyes.
    'I guessed you were watching.'
    'I was going to give you a list of options but I can't remember anything. I'm sorry. You have been through so much,' he said. His voice was uncertain.
    'Did the police tell you what happened?' he asked.
    'Yes.'
    'Do you know the other boy?'
    'What other boy?'
    'Bastards,' he said. 'The other boy who jumped off the roof at the same time.'
    My head felt light as though I might topple like one of those palm trees you see on television bent over backwards in the grip of a mega storm.
    'No. They didn't tell me anything about that. But I can guess who he was.'
    'His name is James Morrison. Some old biddy heard him on the roof and called the police. He's in intensive care.'
    'James is my brother's best friend.'
    We remained in silence for a moment and I smiled when I glimpsed Mr Bloom's suede boots. Seeing them reminded me of my father.
    'Does Google sell our search history?' I asked.
    He didn't look at me as he replied, his eyes focused on some far-off thing. 'I rarely touch the Internet. I read somewhere that in one month alone the five leading sites recorded nine billion searches. Some smug little bastard somewhere knows what the whole world is thinking, all our intentions, everything. None of those technological giants have morals. These people are dangerous. I've been saying it for a long time,' he said.
    'Do you use the Internet to look at porn? I mean, do all men do that?'
    He looked at me and shifted uneasily in his seat. 'Did you hear anything I just said?'
    'Yes, but don't most men look at porn on the Internet?'
    'I don't use the Internet,' he said. 'If I did use it for porn I wouldn't tell you. Why do you ask?'
    I shrugged.
    His eyes were on me as if he knew what I was thinking. He puckered his mouth and inhaled deeply.
    'You're not thinking of doing anything stupid?' he said.
    I knew he would ask me that. I thought for a second. Would I commit suicide? I didn't really have any ideas of my own, none strong enough to want to die over. He began to talk about how important life was. 'It'll turn out all right,' he said, his voice heavy with worry. 'I know that sounds ridiculous after all you've been through, but it will be OK, I promise you.'
    His words barely registered.
    The sun filtered through the leaves of a nearby tree and I passed my eyes over rows of cinnamon-brown rooftops. Suddenly the pavements were filled with freed children in scruffy uniforms, mothers with prams and sprightly grandfathers in flat caps. None of them seemed real. I remembered how excited I would get the few times my father picked me up from school. Some of the children could not help staring inside the car as they passed, as if expecting to see someone important. I loved the innocence of the children, their lack of preconceptions, the way they interacted with each other and exaggerated all their facial expressions. It made me think about how much we learned to keep tucked away as adults.
    'Is there anything I can do?' Bloom asked. 'I owed your father a considerable amount of money. If you need anything just say.'
    'What did you owe him money for?' I asked. I knew he wouldn't answer.
    He let go of the steering wheel and handed me a credit card – green with white dots – with my name on it.
    'I've written the pin number down. Can you read my writing? Four, three, two, two.'
    He put his hand on my thigh again. It felt warm. I looked directly in his eyes. I tried to use my eyes to show anger but I knew they betrayed me so I shut them tightly. I was confused because I always had a great respect for Mr Bloom. When my father was murdered his friends all disappeared, out of fear I guess. Mr Bloom was the only one who seemed to care. He didn't remove his hand. Instead he began to rub inside my thigh gently. I thought I would melt with the tingling sensation that spread along my spine. I breathed deeply and closed my eyes