Homegrown Hero

by Khurrum Rahman

  ‘Nah‚’ I said‚ casually.

  ‘Feels like a… I don’t know‚ like we’re dropping off a ransom to a bunch of kidnappers.’

  ‘Idris?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘When we get there‚ drop back and while I’m chatting to them‚ discreetly take a photo of all three of them.’

  ‘Drop back? Take a photo? You wanna tell me what’s going on?’

  ‘Nothing. I’m just returning the phone.’

  ‘Yeah‚ you’re right‚’ Idris said. ‘This is not weird at all.’

  55

  Lampton Park, Hounslow

  The last time that Daniel had seen him was through blurred‚ wet eyes. Curled up like a ball on the floor‚ sobbing uncontrollably and apologising repeatedly to Naaim. He’d picked Daniel up off the floor and walked him out of the house‚ before rushing back inside to get him a glass of water.

  When Anthony had told Daniel that his phone had been found‚ he was relieved‚ and then he was scared. Scared that it would all come out. That he had gone to Naaim’s house. That he had apologised for his actions! That he’d got smacked in the face and fallen at his feet.

  Daniel hoped for a quick handover. Thanks and walk away. He’d said to Anthony that there wasn’t any need for them all to turn up. Anthony had replied that the caller sounded like a Paki‚ and after the acid attacks‚ we got to stay in numbers.

  They waited at the bench at the back of Lampton Park. Simon was perched perfectly still on the top rail of the bench‚ feet on the seat. Daniel sat tense‚ bent forward at the edge of the seat.

  Anthony stood in front of them‚ bouncing from one foot to the other‚ his energy not dimmed by the joint that he was smoking.

  He squinted his eyes as they got closer. ‘The fuck!?’ Anthony mumbled under his breath. He turned to Simon. ‘The taller one’s a cop. I recognise him. He’s a fucking cop.’

  Simon‚ unmoved‚ his expression neutral‚ eyed the taller of the two. ‘You sure?’

  ‘Yeah‚ I’m sure.’

  ‘Alright. Lose the joint.’

  ‘Why would he bring the police?’ Daniel asked‚ his voice small‚ barely reaching Simon and Anthony. He stood up. ‘Simon?’

  ‘I heard you‚ Daniel‚’ Simon said. ‘I don’t know why.’

  Anthony frowned. ‘You haven’t got anything dodgy on your phone‚ have you?’

  ‘No‚’ Daniel said. ‘Like what?’

  ‘The video‚’ Simon said‚ evenly.

  ‘The video. The fucking video on the bus?’ Anthony cried‚ nervously watching the two men still in the distance.

  ‘I deleted it‚ I swear‚’ Daniel said. ‘Could they have retrieved it?’

  ‘We’re so fucked.’ Anthony ran a hand over his shaved head.

  ‘Anthony. Straighten up‚’ Simon said.

  ‘Simon –’

  ‘Straighten up!’ he repeated‚ voice firm. ‘They don’t know anything. If they did‚ it wouldn’t go down like this. They’d pick us up from our houses‚ and it would be more than two of them. This is something else.’

  ‘Like what?’ Daniel asked.

  ‘Maybe they’re just returning your phone‚’ Simon said.

  56

  Jay

  ‘Jay?’ Idris said.

  I heard him but my eyes were on Daniel and his two friends. One of them was sitting on the rail of the bench‚ his feet on the seat‚ as though he was the guardian of Lampton Park. Daniel and the other were in an animated discussion with him‚ and they kept turning back to cast quick glimpses at us.

  ‘Jay?’ Idris repeated.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Green top. I know him.’

  ‘Yeah‚ I see him. Who is he?’

  ‘Anthony Hanson.’

  ‘I spoke to him on the phone. How’d you know him?’

  ‘His dad‚ Peter Hanson‚ likes to supply pills outside nightclubs. Had him in a couple of times. Anthony was there when we arrested his old man at his house‚ shouting the odds. Lairy little shit.’

  ‘That definitely him?’ I said.

  ‘It’s him. Check this out‚ Hanson Senior also has ties with the EDL. Judging by Junior’s shaved head‚ it looks like the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. You wanna tell me what’s going on‚ Jay?’

  Ira had all but admitted that the reason for Naaim giving Daniel a fat lip was because he’d filmed the whole thing and posted it online. I still couldn’t bring myself to watch the video of the attack‚ but from what I’d been told the other two on the bus both had shaved heads. Hardly conclusive proof. One was tall‚ Anthony Hanson was tall‚ again‚ not exactly compelling evidence‚ though I did have Idris in my ear telling me that Anthony’s dad had ties to EDL. The other attacker was supposedly stocky as fuck. And the third‚ sitting royally on the rail of the bench‚ was built like a fucking vending machine.

  Was I looking at those responsible for the sickening attack?

  I waited to see how it played out.

  ‘Drop back‚ Idris‚’ I said.

  ‘I’ll be close.’

  ‘Alright‚’ I said. ‘Give me a minute.’

  Two pairs of eyes accosted me as I approached‚ looking as though they could happily do some damage without much motivation. Daniel looked down at his shoelaces. He looked out of place‚ like a child trying too hard to fit in with the big boys‚ but maybe I thought that because I’d seen a vulnerable side to him. Anthony approached me‚ the familiar smell of skunk coming off him.

  ‘You got my boy’s phone?’

  ‘Yeah‚’ I said.

  ‘Did you nosey through it?’ Anthony asked.

  ‘Only to ascertain the owner of the phone‚ that’s all.’ Fucking ascertain! Talk about bringing a knife to a gunfight. ‘Which one of you is Daniel?’ I said‚ not wanting to give too much away.

  Daniel moved forward‚ and stood next to Anthony‚ who was busy making eyes at Idris over my shoulder‚ confirming their shared history.

  ‘You’re Daniel?’ I asked.

  ‘Yeah‚’ he replied. ‘Give my phone back?’

  A little attitude. Forced. Trying too hard to impress. I saw you‚ mate. On your knees‚ begging for forgiveness. I slipped out his mobile phone from the back pocket of my jeans. As I tried to hand it to him‚ Anthony snatched it away‚ his fingers brushing mine. He brought his hand up to his mouth and made a show of blowing on them‚ before wiping them on his sweater‚ as though I had passed on brown disease to him.

  ‘Where’d you find it?’ Anthony said‚ holding up Daniel’s phone.

  I couldn’t help it. I had to return the dig. ‘At the mosque?’

  ‘The fuck d’you say?’ Anthony stepped into my face and eyeballed me. I had to look up to meet his eyes. He feigned a head butt at me‚ I half expected it so I didn’t flinch‚ but my insides did.

  Idris coolly slipped in between me and Anthony. ‘We got a problem here?’ Idris said‚ calmly.

  ‘I fucking know you‚ pig‚’ Anthony spat.

  Idris held firm. The third of their group‚ who hadn’t been involved as yet‚ stepped off from his perch on the bench. He moved slowly like a Rottweiler on the prowl‚ rolling his thick shoulders. Just as Idris had taken my position‚ he did the same by shouldering Anthony out of the way and taking his place. Nose to Nose. Toe to Toe.

  ‘Fuck him up‚ Simon‚’ Anthony cried.

  I wondered‚ was it really the mosque comment‚ or were they looking for an excuse? I would have loved to have seen Idris get into it with this Simon character. Idris is in good shape‚ and he’s had all that copper training‚ but on the flip side this guy didn’t look like he would fight fair‚ and I noticed his hand gripping onto something. Also‚ if Simon did happen to get the better of Idris‚ then he’d turn his attention on me!

  Yeah‚ it was time to put a stop to this.

  ‘Idris‚’ I tugged at his arm. He held firm‚ making eyes at Simon. ‘Idris. Come on.’ He gave one last hard-man stare at Simon and th
en backed away.

  ‘Yeah‚’ Anthony screeched. ‘Piss off‚ copper.’

  ‘How’s your old man‚ Anthony? Still selling pills to underage kids?’ Idris threw back.

  ‘What’d you say‚ pig?’ Anthony‚ his face screwed up‚ made for Idris‚ only for Simon to drag him back by the scruff of his green jumper. It was time to get going before feeding time at the zoo.

  57

  Imy

  On the short drive home from school‚ Jack was incessant. Pathaan had placed the seed in his head and now Jack wanted to know about my past. His questions came at me rapidly. I tried to change the subject‚ but he was adamant‚ so I responded to his quick-fire questions with short sharp answers and the occasional grunt‚ giving away nothing but the bare minimum. My past wasn’t something that was discussed often with Stephanie‚ and certainly not with Jack. It was quite simply a part of my life‚ I told them‚ which was uneventful. They didn’t need to know.

  Another lie. But a necessary one. Stephanie was able to forgive me when she’d seen with me with Rukhsana. Despite my actions‚ ultimately she understood my reasons. Something like this‚ how could she understand?

  As soon as I pulled the car into the drive‚ Jack unbuckled and scrambled out before I’d even had the chance to put it into neutral. Stephanie spotted him from the window and met him at the door. I collected my work files and Jack’s rucksack as slowly as I could whilst he‚ no doubt‚ updated his mother.

  ‘Tell her‚ Dad. Tell her‚’ said Jack.

  ‘Tell her what‚ Jack?’ I said‚ wearily.

  ‘About that man!’ Jack looked incredulous. ‘From Ghanistan.’

  ‘It’s Afghanistan‚ Jack.’ Stephanie looked at me curiously but didn’t press. ‘Let’s get you inside. Imy can tell me later.’

  ‘How was your night in with Shaz?’ Stephanie kissed me as I stepped inside.

  I took a breath as the events of the night came rushing back at me.

  ‘Great‚’ I lied. It came easy.

  *

  Jack buried his nose in his iPad. Stephanie fixed snacks in the kitchen. Upstairs‚ I took my time changing out of my work clothes. I slipped off my shirt and stood in front of the mirror. I patted my stomach. Belly would be more apt. I had been living an easy life for too long‚ not giving a thought to my body. The regular pub sessions‚ fried chicken‚ and all the trappings of a carefree life. I felt ashamed. I wasn’t overweight‚ but all that carefully-built lean muscle‚ from hundreds of hours of training‚ had turned soft. One of the teachings of Al-Mudarris‚ that had been constantly drilled into us – Allah gave you a tool‚ a vessel. It is your duty to keep it conditioned until it is required. Now mine would‚ finally‚ be required. Before Monday.

  I peered down at the red raw bruise‚ the size of a fist‚ that had appeared on my side. I gently touched it. It still felt sore. It would hurt more tomorrow morning. I slipped on a T-shirt and went to the toilet. I noticed blood mixed in with the urine. It didn’t surprise me. A well-executed punch to the kidneys would do that.

  ‘They had a cake sale at work today‚’ Stephanie said‚ as I walked into the living room. ‘I bought lemon drizzle.’

  ‘Do you mind if I don’t‚ Steph? Need to shift this‚’ I said‚ rubbing my stomach.

  ‘Stop it! There’s nothing there!’

  ‘I’ll have it‚’ Jack said‚ head still buried in his iPad. I placed it in front of him. He picked it up and shoved whatever he could in his mouth‚ some smeared around his mouth and chin‚ the rest on the floor.

  ‘Did you happen to catch the news last night?’ Stephanie said.

  I continued to watch Jack. He sneezed and a splatter of cake flew out of his mouth and landed on his iPad. He used the palm of his hands to clean the screen and then‚ using the same hand‚ he wiped the snot from his nose‚ smearing it in with the cake on his upper lip. Sensing that he was being watched‚ Jack looked up at me. Blue eyes that belonged to another‚ smiling at me. I blinked at him as though noticing his eyes for the first time.

  Pathaan had sat himself in my head.

  ‘Imy‚’ Stephanie repeated. ‘Did you hear the news?’ The altercation with Shaz flashed through my mind. ‘Last night. There was a…’ Not wanting Jack to hear‚ she mouthed ‘Acid attack.’

  ‘I heard.’ I took a sip of my tea and turned my attention to the television. It was tuned into one of the kids’ channels that was constantly on throughout the day. The adventures of a talking cartoon pig. ‘Is anybody even watching this?’ I muttered under my breath.

  ‘It’s so worrying‚’ Stephanie continued‚ not yet catching onto my mood. ‘They’re saying London is the acid attack capital of Europe. I’m always driving with my windows open. Just the thought of it… Just horrifying!’

  I let out a ‘Pah!’‚ a sound of disbelief.

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean‚ Imy?’ she asked me‚ calmly placing her spoon next to the lemon drizzle‚ signalling that she was ready to go at it.

  ‘You’ve got nothing to worry about‚ Steph. That’s what it means.’

  ‘Nothing to worry about? And why’s that?’

  ‘C’mon‚ let’s not do this.’

  ‘No. Let’s.’

  ‘Steph.’

  ‘Is it because I’m not brown? Does that make me safe?’

  ‘Yes‚ actually. Those targeted were all brown. If you want to be specific‚ all Muslim! So yes‚ I think you’ll be just fine.’

  ‘Oh‚ I see. So it’s one-sided now‚ is it? Shall we turn a blind eye towards the random gun attacks‚ or the mowing down of men‚ women and children by vans? Yeah‚ Imy. I feel perfectly bloody safe.’

  Maybe they had good reason. Maybe their actions are justified.

  The hell do you know about what’s happening outside of your cosy three bed semi-detached home?

  All you know is all they want you to know.

  I didn’t say that to Stephanie. It would have changed everything in a heartbeat. She would never understand. How could she? I said no more on the matter and she looked at me as though her argument was unquestionable.

  And I realised that the person that I wanted to spend my life with would always share the opinions of those who had killed my family.

  58

  Jay

  Back in the relative safety of my Nova‚ and wheeling away from Lampton Park and away from those… Fuck it! I’m gonna say it: Filthy motherfucking racist cunts! A few minutes in their company and I had absolutely no doubt that they had a direct hand in Layla taking her own life.

  ‘Calm down‚ Jay?’ Idris said‚ buckling up his seatbelt‚ as I flew over a road bump towards a traffic light seconds away from turning red.

  ‘I need a drink‚’ I said‚ even though I hadn’t touched a drop in months.

  ‘I can see that. Just slow down‚ yeah?’

  I took the light just as it turned red and rounded the corner onto Bath Road‚ straight into three lanes of traffic for as far as I could see.

  ‘Never thought I’d be relieved to see traffic‚’ Idris remarked‚ to no response.

  I looked from lane to lane‚ figuring out if I could steal space. It was rush hour and everybody was rushing home from their crappy nine to five. I dropped it into neutral and lifted the handbrake.

  ‘Look‚ Jay‚ I know you’re pissed off‚’ Idris said. ‘Don’t be. I come across losers like that all the time. Even in colourful‚ multi-cultural Hounslow!’ He shrugged. ‘It’s just the world we live in. Racism is alive and well.’

  I wiped my palms on my jeans. ‘Have you seen that video yet? Muslim couple on the bus?’

  ‘The attack? Yeah‚ I’ve seen it. Wankers‚’ Idris mumbled under his breath.

  ‘What do you know about it?’

  ‘I’ve spoken to the senior investigation officer who’s handling the case‚ and separately they’re carrying out an inquest on the suicide. They looked into Layla’s background. See if there were any history of depression or abuse‚ s
omething that would have triggered it.’

  ‘I think it’s pretty fucking obvious what triggered it!’

  ‘I know that‚ Jay. But she didn’t leave a suicide note and they cannot rule out that the two incidents are isolated.’

  ‘Isolated! It’s related‚ Idris.’

  ‘Yeah‚ I know that‚ but there’s no evidence relating the attack to the suicide.’

  ‘Fucking evidence!’ I mumbled to myself. ‘What else did you find out?’

  Idris took a breath and continued softly. ‘Layla Younis‚ sixteen years old. Lived with her father and brother‚ a loving unit by all accounts. Her home life was secure. A little sheltered‚ but no big surprise there‚ young Muslim girl living in a male-dominated house. It’s to be expected. School life? Not many friends‚ but well liked. Super intelligent‚ according to her teachers. She’d just sat her exams‚ that very morning. Expected to walk into a top university of her choice.’

  Idris looked out of the passenger side window‚ as though shielding his face from me. It wasn’t a side of Idris that I saw very often. He rarely showed emotion.

  ‘A girl like that‚ Jay‚ could have had the world in her hands. Instead…’ He shrugged and turned back to me. ‘When Layla got home that night‚ broken‚ she went straight to her bedroom. Not knowing at the time that whatever humiliation she’d endured was about to get a lot fucking worse.’

  ‘The video‚’ I said.

  ‘Just after ten p.m. that night she received the first of forty-one text messages informing her that a video of her was doing the rounds all over the internet.’ Idris slowly rapped his knuckles three times on my dashboard. ‘She was found dead by her father. Her phone on her bed‚ playing the video on a loop.’

  The traffic was suffocating me. The beaming sun hitting the side of my head was suffocating me. The crappy air-con in my crappy Nova was blowing hot and cold and fucking suffocating me. I slid down the window‚ and much like a dog‚ I angled my head outside and closed my eyes‚ letting the gentle breeze stroke my forehead.

  ‘Why did you bring it up?’ Idris asked.