Snow Space

Epilogue

Poppy's phone call to the police had been effective, for when Khamil arrived home the next morning after staying at Poppy's, their flat was being raided. He stood at the door, watching the policemen root through Rob's drawer's emerging with sealed, brown packages that had been stuffed in socks, sunglasses cases, t-shirts, and such. They'd even found a tiny one pressed inside an old 'Wolf of Wall Street' DVD. The culprit himself had been arrested the previous night, apparently dragging half the furniture with him before belting an officer in the nose, consequently leaving him without much of a defense for later on. 

Agnes and his mum had stayed at a friends', where Khamil had joined for a few days until Gaz's funeral - which is where the chips began to fall into place.

"Anytime mate - I'll arrange it for you tonight."

With a smile, Khamil fist-bumped his new friend, watching as the man winked - in a painfully familiar way, and then turned on his heel, greeting an old relative. A gentle tap came on his shoulder, and he turned around to see Poppy in a black dress, that softly flared out at the hips like an old 50s style, her hair its usual buoyant self, naturally curled. She gave him a small smile, her demeanour in keeping with the nature of the day. 

"Hey."

"Hey," Khamil smiled, turning around properly to face her. 

"You look nice," she said, surveying his shirt and tie - an attire his mum had bought him, refusing to let him attend without. Even Pikey was dressed up - if you counted a black polo shirt and chinos. He looked strange without trackies on - Khamil hadn't even recognised him at first. 

"As do you," Khamil replied, prompting a light chuckle from Poppy. Raising his eyebrows, he extended a hand, and she took it, leaning the side of her head against his shoulder in comfort. They stayed like that for a moment, watching Gaz's family exchange greetings with each other. Contrary to what they'd expected, the event seemed light-hearted - people were happy to see each other, reminiscing rather than crying, and carrying colourful bouquets of flowers. He'd trusted Gaz's mum to make it into something happy, though. A few people from school had arrived, including Ronnie and her sister, and a couple of teachers. A movement from across the field suddenly caught his eye, and he glanced up - his heart rate increasing momentarily. There were some Sutherland boys on the far side making their way over, their presence sparking unease within him. He shared an anxious look with Pikey, both their minds jumping back to the moment his friends had shot two bullets into Hade, leaving him on the street by the alleyway. Nothing had happened since. Perhaps this was it. 

"Poppy," Khamil murmured - though she'd seen it as well.

"Be careful," she whispered, before lifting her head. He nodded, then slowly crossed the outside area; parallel to him, Pikey was doing the same and they came close to each other as they approached the other gang.

"What do you think they want?" Pikey mumbled.

"No idea."

They came to a slow stop in front of the other boys - there were only four of them which is why Khamil was a little less apprehensive than he could have been.

"We don't want no shit or anything," one of them said, a humbleness to his tone. "We wanted to come say truce."

The breeze rustled slightly as Pikey and Khamil took this in, nodding in response. 

"Hade killed your mate, which he shouldn't have, and you killed him. Eye for an eye, innit. We're good."

He looked at his friend, before stepping forwards and extending a hand. Sharing a look with Pikey - who nodded, Khamil mirrored this, and shook the boy's hand. Naturally there was still an underlying tension, though it was eased at the brief armistice. 

"We're settled."

-

The night of the funeral, the streets were alive with Bateson road boys, their spirits high in commemoration. 

"To Gaz!" shouted Pikey, raising his bottle of vodka high in the air. He was precariously stood on the postbox, true emotion clear in his words, through his bravado. 

"To Gaz!" the others called in unison, raising their bottles of coke or mixed drink. Khamil was leant against the railings on his bike, a wry smile on his face at the display. It was a bittersweet moment, in multiple ways. 

"Oi, oi, someone's bird has arrived!"

Khamil looked over to the bus stop, where a double-decker had just pulled up, to see Poppy - now changed into a red, pleated, tartan skirt and a navy sweater. He broke into a smile as she caught sight of him, leaning his head backwards against the railings in his usual boyish sheepishness. As the others lads went back to discussion and drinking, Khamil looked at her, still smiling cheekily.

"Hey." 

She smiled back - ethereal. 

"How's your mum?"

"She's good - back in the flat with Agnes. And your dad's dodgy back?"

Poppy laughed breezily. 

"Mhm, it's improving."

"Look at that lad," Khamil said, rolling his head over to Pikey. He was still stood on the postbox, starting up a chant. 

"BATESON TODAY, BATESON TOMORROW. BATESON TODAY -"

"Fucking head-case," Khamil laughed, watching in amusement. Poppy smiled, though looked back at Khamil. 

"I came to tell you something," she said, her eyes on him. He looked back at her.

"Yeah?"

"I got a scholarship. In Southhampton."

Khamil smiled a little.

"I know, I heard. Congratulations."

He looked back out at his mates, some of their reminiscent stories about Gaz floating over to him. Of course, he'd heard them all before.

"When do you leave?"

"Few days," she said, watching him as he nodded. 

"You're far too smart for me," he grinned, sending her a cheeky look, though she looked at him with a wry smile.

"No, I'm not."

Her eyes softened, and then she looked back out at the boys in the street with a pang of sadness. She didn't want Khamil to be like them. 

"What about you?" she said. "You're just staying here?"

"Course he is!" Omar cut in, leaning over to pat Khamil on the back in camaraderie, and Poppy watched the exchange poignantly. Khamil laughed as Omar said some joke in his ear and then turned back to his other conversation, before tilting his head up at Poppy. Subtly, he shook his head with a wink, indicating otherwise, and Poppy laughed in happy relief. Khamil leant forwards, lowering his voice.

"I got a job with Gaz's brother in West London. He's got a decent flat, and as long as I chip in rent now and then, I'm sorted. Just don't tell them lot or they'll get pissy."

Poppy grinned. 

"And when do you leave?"

"Few days," he estimated, and they shared a smile. 

"I'll miss you," she said. 

"And I'll miss you."

"OI, KHAMIL! STOP BEING A LADIES MAN AND COME DO SOME FUCKING SHOTS!"

Khamil shared a final look with Poppy, tilting his head in a mockingly bashful fashion, before jumping off of his bike, and pulling her into a kiss. 

"I'll see you around," he murmured, before smiling, and jumping over the railings in a swift-one handed motion. "Come on then, boys!"

A twinkle in her eye, Poppy folded her arms and leant against the railings, watching him laugh and pat Pikey on the back. The echoing of their voices floated through the night, a reminder to the street that Bateson road was still alive.