Eventually… the door opened.
A scrawny girl dressed in a red and white string bikini was standing in front of us. Clearly off her head‚ she blinked lazily at us through glazed eyes.
‘Is‚ uh‚ Silas around?’ I asked.
She looked blankly at us.
‘Staples?’
A hint of a smile played across her face. It was painfully clear that she’d once been a beautiful‚ vibrant girl‚ before she got involved with that drug-dealing scumbag. She leaned casually against the doorframe‚ that hint of a smile now in full bloom‚ she said‚ ‘They’re dead… They’re all dead.’
I froze momentarily‚ unable to comprehend the words of this crackhead. Despite what he’d said about avoiding any trouble‚ the copper in Idris rushed past her into the house. The Jay in me remained standing at the door. I could see Idris at the end of the hallway peering into the living room. He turned to me and hissed‚ ‘Jay. Get in. Shut the door behind you.’ I stepped past the girl into the large hallway. ‘Do not touch anything. In fact‚ hands in pockets at all times.’
I slid the canvas bag high over my shoulder‚ jammed my hands into the pockets of my jeans and walked through the hall. I joined Idris at the entrance to Silas’ living room. We didn’t dare take a step further.
His right hand man‚ and right fucking tough bastard‚ Staples‚ was face-down on the rug‚ in a pool of blood. He had two long slits on either side of his upper body‚ as though somebody had unzipped him. Nearby‚ two of Silas’ henchmen had dropped‚ one either side of Staples. I recognised them both from my past visits. Both nasty pieces of work‚ who I had on occasion shared a joint with. Cassius was frozen‚ on his knees‚ his head dropped‚ chin resting on his chest‚ his unruly dreadlocks curtaining his face. Aaron‚ in the foetal positon‚ his hand on his stomach as if he’d tried desperately to tuck his internal organs back in. The tear-shaped tattoo under his left eye had never looked so fitting.
On the garish purple velvet sofa‚ the bright light emanating from the television reflected in Silas’ dead eyes. A dark red hole in the side of his neck was slowly dripping blood and darkening his pale pink shirt.
We didn’t touch anything‚ didn’t say a word‚ as though our voices may have left behind a trace of evidence‚ and placed us at the scene of the crime. There would be no explaining away our presence‚ especially with the 15k weighing heavy on my shoulders. On top of which‚ I had a motive.
The girl‚ the junkie‚ brushed past me and calmly climbed onto the sofa next to Silas. She tucked her bare feet underneath herself and lifted Silas’ arm so it rested around her shoulder. She rested her head on his chest‚ closed her eyes‚ and gently started to snore.
I turned to Idris just as he turned to face me. He inclined his head towards the front door. I nodded in agreement.
Yeah. Time to go.
36
Imy
Once again‚ I had two alternate visions for my future. One of bliss with Stephanie and Jack‚ marriage on the horizon‚ a family life that I’d longed for. The other‚ black‚ bleak‚ and violent. Running from a dream that I had once chased. No longer part of that life where all I’d wanted was hurt‚ to feel it and to deliver it to anybody who even resembled those who took away my mother and father.
Over the last couple of weeks‚ since I last saw Pathaan‚ I’d been phoning the hospital every other day to check on Qasim’s progress. I wanted to hear there’s been complications‚ I wanted to hear I’m sorry‚ we couldn’t save him. The last time I called‚ they told me that he’d been discharged. I would be expected to carry out my duty. I had failed the first time. I couldn’t fail again.
Jack was sitting next to me on the sofa negotiating a Cornetto‚ as he watched Toy Story for the second time that day‚ mouthing the lines and laughing to himself.
‘Do we have to watch this again?’ I said for no reason at all.
‘It’s my favourite film‚’ Jack said.
‘Why don’t you watch something else‚ do something else?’ I sighed‚ my frustration‚ not for the first time‚ searching for an outlet. A few days before‚ I had snapped at Jack. Play with me. Play with me. On repeat. His voice grated at my nerves. I told him sharply that I was busy and I went up to the bedroom. Three minutes later‚ the guilt kicked in and I was back down‚ apologising and playing hide and seek.
‘Let him watch it‚’ Stephanie looked at me over her iPad. She was browsing all things wedding related. She smiled passively at me‚ recognising my mood.
I picked up my phone just to keep my hands busy from scratching the hell out of my head. I browsed through the local news headlines. Silas Drakos’ murder was being reported as gang related. I knew better. I moved onto various social media apps‚ and absentmindedly scrolled for something to catch my attention. I stopped at a Missing Child post.
Staring back at me was a small face‚ tilted towards the camera. I’d only met Rafi Kabir‚ Rocket Rafi‚ once‚ but he’d left an impression on me. A child with beliefs that no child should hold. A child like I once was. The photo staring back at me was at odds with the spirited kid that I had met; unsure‚ camera shy‚ eyes raised impatiently at the photographer rather than on the lens of the camera. There wasn’t much information; ten years old‚ a contact phone number‚ and the date of his disappearance. Two days after my visit to Blackburn. Seemingly‚ his bags were packed and some of his clothes were missing‚ so kidnapping had been ruled out. Rafi had just upped and left.
‘You okay‚ Imy?’
‘Hmm.’
‘Are you alright?’ Stephanie asked again‚ her finger suspended over the iPad.
‘I’m fine.’ I locked my phone and placed it on the glass coffee table. It vibrated noisily and immediately. Stephanie’s eyes moved to it and quickly away again as Rukhsana’s name flashed on the screen.
‘Work‚’ I said. Pathaan‚ Rafi‚ now Rukhsana‚ my phone full of secrets that Stephanie could never know about. I walked out of the room and took the call in the kitchen.
‘Rukhsana‚’ I said. ‘Hi.’
‘Shouldn’t it be you that should be calling me‚’ Rukhsana said‚ her tone flirtatious‚ revealing.
‘I messaged you‚’ I said‚ leaning against the worktop.
‘A call would have been better.’
‘In this day and age‚ a call is the last option‚ wouldn’t you say?’ I said‚ easily slipping into my other life.
‘Maybe I’m an old fashioned kind of girl.’
‘We should meet. Are you available today‚ for coffee?’ I said.
‘Dinner would be better.’
‘Another time.’
‘Fine‚’ she sighed. ‘I’m actually meeting some friends tonight in Chiswick‚ that’s not far from you‚ right?’
‘It’s close‚’ I said‚ relieved that I wouldn’t have to travel to east London and write off the whole night.
‘There’s a cute little coffee shop off the green. I’ll text you the address. Shall we say six?’
‘Okay‚ I’ll see you shortly‚’ I said‚ just as Stephanie stepped into the kitchen. I disconnected the call‚ cutting Rukhsana short just as she was saying goodbye.
I cleared my throat‚ Stephanie watched me as if I had something to say.
‘I have to pop into work later.’
‘Is that who was on the phone? Kumar?’
‘We’ve just had a new property come up on our books. Already four viewings booked for tomorrow. Kumar wants me to draw up and print the paperwork.’
‘You’re going to miss the party.’
I rubbed my face as Stephanie heavy-handedly wedged dishes into the already-packed dishwasher. I had genuinely forgotten that I was supposed to take Jack to Sienna’s Pirates and Princesses themed birthday party.
‘I’ll speak with Jack‚’ I sighed. ‘He’ll understand.’ I entered the living room to break the news to Jack‚ when I heard a text alert and realised I’d left my phone on the worktop. I doubled bac
ked and rushed back into the kitchen. My phone was in Stephanie’s hand. I looked down at it and I could see the notification on my home screen. It was from Rukhsana. The address for the coffee shop‚ the meeting time‚ followed by a single kiss. Stephanie’s eyes were thankfully on me as she handed me the phone.
It was a close one‚ and it could have been a whole damn lot closer. It was time to put an end to my lies. One of them‚ at least.
*
Rukhsana was waiting outside the coffee shop. She was dressed in fitted blue jeans‚ and cream heels that offset her navy blue blazer. An effort not matched by me.
‘Rukhsana. Hi.’ I approached her with my hand out which she left hanging and stepped in for an embrace. ‘I’m not late‚ am I?’ I asked‚ extracting myself from her.
‘If you were late‚ I wouldn’t be here.’ She smiled and hooked her arm in mine and we entered and found a booth at the back of the coffee shop. She eyed me as she removed her blazer to reveal a sleeveless white blouse.
‘Are you growing a...’ Rukhsana pointed at my face.
‘Oh. No‚ I just haven’t shaved in a few days.’ I realised it was more like a week since I last shaved‚ and a couple of days since I’d showered. I leant back in my chair.
‘You look better clean shaven‚’ she said.
I smiled and nodded knowing I looked like shit. I waved a waiter over and ordered a coffee‚ she ordered something a little fancier. Over her shoulder I spotted a man‚ vaguely familiar. He was sitting by himself‚ trying his hardest not to look at us. ‘Is that –’
‘Yes‚ that is my brother‚ Kareem.’ Rukhsana smirked. ‘I’ll be thirty-two in two weeks. I work in the city‚ sometimes until late. But as soon as I have to meet a boy‚ my parents insist that I take a chaperone. In case your intentions are sinister... Are they?’ Her smile upgraded to a giggle. ‘I’ll try to lose him‚ next time we meet.’
‘Rukhsana‚’ I said‚ ready to tell her there wouldn’t be a next time.
‘Imran.’ She smiled.
The waiter was on us‚ fussing‚ making small talk as he placed my coffee and her foamy number on the table. He left and the moment had passed. Frustrated‚ I waited for another as I agitatedly scratched my thigh under the table.
Rukhsana was switched on and proceeded to ask pertinent questions of me. She asked me if I had any property‚ my ambitions. How many children I would like. If I was planning to live at home with Khala after marriage or move out. She even put theoretical scenarios to me: if she was invited to a hen do‚ in Ibiza‚ how would I feel about it? Trying to gauge if I was the jealous type‚ the controlling type. Unable to keep up I stopped her abruptly in full flow.
‘I’m seeing someone.’
She shifted slightly in her chair‚ for the first time losing a little cool. Her hand tightened around the mug.
‘Sorry‚’ she pursed her lips. ‘Can you repeat that?’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Is it serious?’
‘Yes... I’m sorry.’
The door to the coffee shop opened. I looked past Rukhsana‚ I looked past her brother who was lost to his phone and there he was‚ the cutest little pirate. Red eye patch‚ black bandana wrapped around his peanut head and a stuffed parrot on his shoulder. Behind him‚ stopped in her tracks‚ was Stephanie.
Rukhsana turned in her seat and locked eyes with Stephanie. Jack ran to our table and hopped onto my lap.
‘When are you coming home‚ Dad?’ he said‚ pulling playfully at my ear. ‘Mummy said you were working.’
Stephanie slowly approached the table and took it all in. First disbelief in her eyes‚ and then simply a sadness that I’d never seen before.
‘Steph‚’ I said‚ and I didn’t know what else to say. My lies ran dry.
‘Is this her?’ Rukhsana said‚ taking great pleasure in my predicament ‘Looks to me like you have yourself a ready-made family‚ Imran. Which begs the question‚ what are you doing here? With me?’ She smiled. Sweetly.
Stephanie grabbed Jack by the arm and lifted him away from me. I shot to my feet. ‘Steph... Wait‚’ I said brushing past a grinning Rukhsana and rushing after Stephanie as she purposefully strode towards the door. I reached for her arm.
‘Don’t you dare!’ Stephanie screamed‚ silencing the room.
I released her arm and she walked out‚ with Jack looking back at me unsure if he’d ever see me again.
37
Jay
Home alone and with nothing to think about but the mess that is my life. Somebody had popped Silas; an angel with a blade. The cops weren’t knocking on my door. The crackhead was the only one who could place Idris and me there‚ but you know... ain’t no-one paying attention to a crackhead. I should have been happy‚ or somewhere close to it‚ but my life was moving in different directions than the one I wanted it to move in. External forces at work.
I still hadn’t seen the attack on Layla. I’d found several links to it online but couldn’t bring myself to watch it. Instead I dreamt it‚ interpreted it‚ my mind worked hard to piss me off. I’d wake up furious that a life could be snatched so easily‚ resolute that I would do something about it. But seriously‚ what could I do? Layla was just one of a million injustices.
I spent twenty minutes in front of the bathroom mirror‚ carrying out mouth and neck exercises that the physio had given me. My reflection looked a fucking mess. I’d lost weight due to my diet of soup and mush. My face gaunt‚ dark circles deepening under my eyes‚ and what was that? A fucking grey hair.
I looked old. Like my father would have‚ if he hadn’t been covered in third degree burns all over his face and body‚ caused when he detonated an explosive vest outside the US Embassy in Madrid.
I stepped away from the mirror at the morbid thought‚ and made my way slowly downstairs‚ wondering what to do with the day. I slumped in my armchair and stared at the television‚ which was turned off‚ the remote out of reach. Next to the television was a great big Get Well Soon card that my work lot had sent me along with an even bigger bouquet of flowers‚ know your audience‚ people. I’d made the token effort and put them in a jug – couldn’t find a vase – then watched them wilt and die in record time. I was so bored out of my skull that‚ get this‚ I actually wanted to go back to work just to be around people and their inane conversation. But I had officially been signed off and it went against all my natural instincts to work when I didn’t have to.
I sighed loudly and unlocked my phone. I had a missed call from Zafar. I recalled vaguely exchanging numbers at Heston Hall. It’s what you do when you get a little familiar with someone. It didn’t mean he had to use it. I didn’t think we had a chatting-on-the-phone relationship. It’s an altered dynamic‚ like bumping into your hairdresser down the fruit and veg aisle. I dialled him back as I contemplated the poor metaphor.
‘What’s happening‚ Jay?’ Zafar wasn’t the Aslamalykum type. ‘I was just texting you.’
‘Zee. What’s happening?’ I’d never before called him Zee‚ nor heard anybody else refer to him that way. Altered dynamics! I could hear the awkwardness in the beat of silence. I cleared my throat; it still fucking hurt.
‘Just checking in. How’re you?’ he said.
‘Yeah‚ you know. Well.’
‘Good! That’s good... So Tahir and I are going for a bite to eat at that Lebanese place tonight... Shit‚ can’t remember what it’s called. Behind Treaty.’
‘Mrwa.’
‘That’s it.’
‘Ira‚ Naaim‚ they coming?’
‘No‚’ Zafar said‚ ‘Just the two of us and you‚ if you can make it.’
Paranoia set in. After Silas’ attack‚ I wasn’t taking any chances – even if he was dead‚ there were plenty of others who might be interested in me. In the space of a second before I replied‚ I tried to figure out the angle. The last year had affected me more than I cared to admit. I now saw threats in any situation that was even a little out of the ordinary. We had
a relationship that was‚ and should be‚ limited to Heston Hall. None of this extra-curricular bullshit‚ and that includes their visit to the hospital. Why’d they do that? Did they find out about my past‚ that I attended a training camp in North Pakistan? Was Heston Hall some sort of terrorist breeding ground? And why the fuck did they not invite Naaim and Ira? Had they proven themselves to be unworthy‚ untrustworthy? It didn’t add up and it fed my fucking paranoia. It wouldn’t be the first time that I’d been put under the microscope by a bunch of Brothers looking to exploit me.
‘Jay?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Only if you’re feeling up-to-it. Haven’t seen you at the meetings recently‚ obviously‚ with your… you know‚ injury. Be nice to catch up.’
Meetings. Something sinister about the way he said it.
Was this my life now‚ looking for intonation‚ for a meaning that wasn’t there? Stop it‚ Jay. Fuck!
‘Go on‚ then‚’ I said‚ after battling with myself and emerging the victor.
*
The spy in me turned up fifteen minutes early. I cruised slowly past Mrwa. It was empty‚ save a young couple in the far corner. She was romantically being spoon fed the creamy foam from the top of a tall drink. No danger there‚ I ascertained.
I parked my car on a single yellow and walked the short distance. Opposite‚ Tahir and Zafar were approaching the restaurant. We met outside and I carried out a respectful handshake and a Salaam with Tahir‚ and a fist bump and ’sup with Zafar.
‘Shall we‚’ Tahir held open the door.
I walked in first and the waiter directed us to a table for four. I made sure that I sat facing the entrance. Tahir sat opposite with Zafar next to me. We nodded‚ smiled‚ made a little crap talk as we browsed the menu. They asked me how I was healing. I wasn’t close enough with them to answer in the form of a shrug‚ so I told them about my diet‚ the daily physiotherapy and medication. It was a snore-fest; I was boring myself.
Homegrown Hero Page 16
