Too Much Trouble Read Online Free PDF Page B

the fence cautiously. There was no sign of my uncle or any of his friends, no lights on, no windows open. We both let out long breaths. You might have thought we’d been holding them for the last hour.
    Prince climbed first. I passed over our bags and shopping. I hauled myself over and followed Prince through the jungle to the back door.
    We went through into the kitchen. Prince threw his bag down in the corner and I walked over to the cupboard which held our three chipped plates. We were hungry and tired. We would eat and then go to sleep. I was so tired that thoughts of what tomorrow would bring were muted and distant.
    As I swung the cupboard door open I heard Prince begin to scream, and I knew that trouble had found us.
    In a moment I felt something strike the back of my head. I collapsed into the cupboard door and then down on to the floor. The cupboard door camecrashing on to my chest, having been pulled away from the unit. Prince’s scream redoubled in my ears and then cut off abruptly as I tried to focus my swimming eyes.
    Something struck me in the side and I heard my uncle growl, ‘Get up, you!’
    I felt myself being lifted off the ground, my enormous uncle picking me up in one hand as he held Prince by the neck in the other. ‘What have you done, you stupid boys?’ Before I could begin to answer, my uncle released me and then quickly struck another blow across my face.
    This time I didn’t stay on the ground for long. Prince was beginning to turn purple and I could hear soft, choking noises. I leapt up and grappled with my uncle’s arm, plunging my teeth and nails into his muscled limb. That made him let go. I heard Prince gasp a breath as another blow swept across my face.
    â€˜Get out, Prince!’ I coughed, struggling to rise. The back door clattered as Prince rushed through it, then my uncle’s box-fresh, white trainers connected with my stomach. I stopped trying to get up and just fought for breath.
    â€˜Why am I getting phone calls to my house?’ myuncle roared, then kicked me again. ‘Your sons have run away from the school, they say!’ He imitated a lady’s voice as he kicked me again. The kick turned me over to face him. ‘You need to come and see us or we will come and see you, they say!’ My uncle picked me up again and threw me on to a wooden chair, then took a step back as if to admire his handywork.
    I looked over to the door and saw Prince peering in through the glass. I willed him not to come back in.
    My uncle had turned away from me, letting out a long sigh. I tried to control my ragged breathing and my uncle turned back towards me.
    â€˜You are my brother’s son, but I cannot look after you any more. Here...’ he said, thrusting a wedge of notes at me. ‘Now, get out. You will be gone before my friends come. You will not like what they will do when they find that you have brought trouble. Get out, Emmanuel, take your brother and go.’
    With these words, my uncle headed for the door that led into the rest of the house, pulling a packet of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket.
    Prince opened the back door and looked at me, open-mouthed, the shock clear on his face.He mumbled, ‘I’ll get the stuff.’
    That was the last time we ever saw that house. I’ve never missed it.

Chapter 9
    There had been four occasions, when my uncle brought us our allowance, that he had stayed to play with us. Just four in three years. Once he had brought us an old Playstation One. A scratched and chipped grey box with a circular lid. You pressed a button and the lid slowly raised so that you could insert games.
    I knew it was nothing to boast about, compared to my friends’ elaborate computer systems, but me and Prince had never owned anything like it. There was a game called Bust-a-Move. It was brilliant.
    You had to shoot these different-coloured bubbles at other coloured bubbles and if you got them in a group of