Faces (75 page)

Faces like Michael, Danny Boy and even him, were just relics that harked back to the olden days when men were men, and their women were glad of it. Those days were gone, and they would never return.

Michael was too entrenched in the old values to ever understand that and, when the time was right, Eli was confident that he would step down, hand over the Smoke, and the Spanish end of their businesses. It was the only way they could keep hold of anything even remotely worth having. He knew from his conversationalists exactly how the street was changing, and changing by the day. He knew from his chatterboxes that a new breed of young black men were making their mark. They were African, they were Asian, they were Caribbean boys; they had one thing in common other than their colour; they were hungry. At the moment they were too busy killing each other, but soon he knew that they would realise that
together
they were much stronger than anyone around them. And, when they did, he would be waiting, and he would utilise them.

 
 
 

 
FACES

 

 
MARTINA COLE

 
 
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