Burnt - The Complete Series

By Cary Grant

Christmas in 1980s London is the most exciting time for 12 year old Charmaine. The mixed race daughter of an Irish mom and Black dad, Charmaine knows it was rough for her parents when they arrived in London.

This year, however, Christmas will be better than ever! Charmaine has a very special gift for her parents - a real present paid for with her own money! But how can she ever imagine her greatest joy will turn into her worst tragedy?

In part two, Charmaine is taking back Control of her life. She refuses to be the victim anymore.

Before she can move forward in her life she needs to confront the people who made her life hell.

Charmaine wants her life back .

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jun 12, 2016
• ISBN: 9781326701062

Book preview

Burnt - The Complete Series

BURNT

The Complete Series

PART ONE

CARY GRANT

www.carygrantauthor.co.uk

BURNT

Christmas on Fire

Copyright

Copyright 2016 Cary Grant

www.CaryGrantAuthor.co.uk

The Complete Digital Edition

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

All rights reserved.

Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the copyright owner, or in the case of the reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the Author.

For my mother and father who are no longer with us but always encouraged me to do well, I hope you are still proud of me.

Introduction

My name is Charmaine and the story I am about to tell is one that may ruin your feelings about Christmas. But it is important for you to read this story because it is something that you can perhaps learn from, so that you can handle any Christmas tragedies that come your way.

My Dad was a black man who came to London in 1961 at the age of 16 without one pound to his name. As for my Mum, she was a white lady who came from the outskirts of Ireland. She moved to London in 1965 when she was just 17-years-old. My Dad was 20-years-old at the time my Mum arrived in London and the two met each other shortly after. They always used to tell me stories about how rough it was for them in London back in those days because there were not too many interracial couples around. Not only that, but they had trouble renting a room for themselves. Most of the windows of the flats and lodges had signs on them that read No Blacks, No Irish and No Dogs. Since my Dad was black and my Mum was Irish, this put them at quite a disadvantage. At least they didn’t have any dogs to worry about, but it was still a rough time just for them to find a place to stay. 

Fortunately, my Mum and Dad were able to rent a room from his brother Junior. He had lived in London since 1957. When Junior first arrived in London he had problems finding a place too, which led him to form his own little underground blues club. Junior first started out by singing the blues on the streets of London. People would walk by and give a tip for his awesome performance. It only took him three years before he earned enough money in tips to purchase his own house. As soon as he moved in, he turned his basement into an underground blues club called Blues Nights. Word spread fast throughout the city about Blues Nights. He would have people from all walks of life coming to his club and paying lots of money to drink and dance in his basement. The cost to get into the club was one pound. Drinks were 50 pence each and a plate of food was 25 pence.

After my Mum and Dad moved in with Junior, they ended up working with him in the club. So naturally, they would spend most of their nights down there while I was asleep upstairs. In 1979, it got even more chaotic after my sister Kim was born. My parents would make me watch over Kim while they continued to work in the club downstairs. It got really noisy most nights, which meant Kim was up all night screaming and crying because she couldn’t get to sleep. This forced me to have to get up and rock her to sleep each night, but the constant noise from the club made that almost impossible to do.

Life at Junior’s house wasn’t all that bad though. My family was making pretty decent money helping him run the club, which meant Kim and I always got fabulous presents at Christmas time. But the one present I wish I could get was more time with my Mum and Dad. They were always preoccupied with making money in the club that they neglected my sister and I. Of course, they were great providers financially but it would have been nice to spend more time with them together. If only they were destined to be together and happy. Unfortunately, fate had other plans for my parents and it was about change for the worst on my twelfth Christmas.

Christmas Eve

It was Christmas Eve and schools across the country were closing early in preparation for the holiday. The school I went to closed earlier than my sister Kim’s school, so my parents told me to wait for Kim outside her school and pick her up. I didn’t mind this responsibility so much because I loved to take long walks through the streets of London during this snowy time of year. There was something magical about the cars and the tall buildings covered with beautiful white snow. It almost made London feel like something mystical that you would read about in one of those classic Christmas English fairy tales.

I arrived at Kim’s school and there were lots of children on the playground who were playing various games with each other. Some of the children were playing tag, some were throwing snowballs at each other and others were building snowmen. As I looked around for Kim, I saw her making snow angels in the snow with her friend Abigail. I walked over to them and was about to tell Kim to come with me, but Abigail’s black mother came over just ahead of me.

Abigail! the mother said aggressively. Come on! We have to get going now!

Okay, mum, Abigail responded. Abigail ran over to her mum and they both started walking away together. I looked over at the two as they were walking away.

I don't ever want you playing with those half breeds ever again! the mother said to her daughter. They don't know if they're black or white, and they act mad all the time because of it. So stay away from them! Do you hear me? Abigail began crying.

Yes, mum, Abigail said while weeping. I shook my head in disgust as I saw them walking away.

You ugly black bitch, I uttered out loud to myself. The mother looked back at me as they were walking away. I quickly turned my head away so the mother wouldn’t think it was me who said that. But at that moment, I was so disgusted over what I just heard that I didn’t really care if she knew or not. 

Kim got up from the snow and looked at me with a frown on her face. I looked down at her.

Are you ready Kim? I asked her.

I want to play with Abigail, Kim responded.

No, you can’t. It’s Christmas Eve. Dad and Mum want us both home. Kim remained silent as she frowned. Now come on, let’s get going. Kim staggered up beside me. We walked off the playground and away from the school.

Kim and I were silent the whole way home. I just couldn’t help but think about the nasty comment I heard from that mother. It was the first bit of racism I had ever heard and I never expected that from a black woman, since I’ve spent so much time around black women in the club back home. They were always friendly with my white mum and I never heard any bit of racism come out of either one of their mouths. So many questions ran through my mind about the world after hearing that mother on the playground. Questions like, Are there more racist mothers like that out there? Are my sister and I truly different than everyone else? What really boggled my mind was what she said about not knowing if I’m black or white. I never really thought about my skin colour at all. I just figured that all people were born with a certain skin colour and that there was nothing more to it. Sure, I thought about the colour differences between my mum and dad from time to time, but they weren’t racist thoughts. I just thought about the beauty in each of their skin colours and that was it. So naturally, I began to have questions about colour and whether or not there were good colours and bad colours. Was I one of the bad colours?

Kim and I continued on walking home. As we got close to our house, we passed by a street corner where the local neighbourhood ‘gangsters’ liked to hang out. These were really just wannabe gangsters who had dressed in dark clothes and talked tough, but they were really wimps and dickheads in disguise. I always saw them drinking out there and shouting all kinds of obscenities to people who would pass by them on the street, whether they were driving or walking. When Kim and I would walk by it was always the same crude comments, especially from some boy called Rizla, I think they called him that because he was so thin.

Hey, it’s the two freaks, Rizla shouted. All I did was gave him the middle finger and then continued to walk my sister home. I already had enough hostility built up inside of me from that bitchy mother from the school, so it took everything I had to contain myself and keep on walking without getting into an altercation. It started me thinking was he calling us freaks because of our colour, or am I now getting paranoid.

When we got home I immediately went down into the basement. My mum was down there dancing and drinking all over the place. This kind of behaviour was nothing out of the ordinary, except that it was the kind of behaviour I would expect to see at night time when the club was open. It was still the afternoon and the club wasn’t even open, but yet she was still drinking and dancing as if it were. My uncle Junior was down there throwing dominoes and turning the music way up as loud as it could go.

I had wanted to talk with mum about the mother from the school and what she said, but it just felt too awkward to do so when considering the state of mind they were in at the moment. So I just decided to do what I always did and bury the aggression inside of me without talking to anyone about it. As I turned to leave the basement, my mum apparently saw me leaving. She went over to the stereo and lowered the volume.

Charmaine! Mum said. I turned around.

Yes, mum? I replied.

Would you be a doll and go upstairs in our house? Your dad left you a surprise up there for you.

Yes, mum. I walked up the stairs and entered the main house. Kim had been waiting by the door to the basement. She heard everything mum said.

Are there presents up there? Kim asked.

I don’t know. We’ll have to see what dad left. Kim followed me upstairs to the double room that we had up there. This double room had a kitchen, shared toilets and plenty of space to play around. While I was walking up the stairs, I wondered what my dad could have possibly gotten me. I know he worked two jobs; one as a ticket man at the bus station and the other as