East of Hounslow: A funny, clever and addictive spy thriller, shortlisted for a CWA Dagger 2018. Khurrum Rahman
Читать онлайн книгу.
it’s the fucking minority!
It’s by this token‚ you shouldn’t be surprised to hear‚ that Khan and Parvez were standing outside Ali’s Diner‚ in the biting cold‚ planning and plotting revenge. The rest of them stayed in the warmth and listened as Shariff collectively and peacefully tried to find a way to put a foot forward. I had other things on my mind. I had to get back to my car and make sure all the money I’d collected was collated in rubber bands just as Silas liked. I thought maybe I would take a walk after‚ as the fried chicken was sitting heavy on my heart. I just didn’t want to be sitting in Ali’s anymore. I walked out and Khan and Parvez turned expectantly. I greeted them with raised eyebrows.
‘Anybody else coming?’ Parvez asked.
‘No‚ man. They’re all inside. Shariff is holding court‚ ain’t no one coming‚’ I said. ‘Where are The Twins?’
‘Gone. Early start tomorrow‚’ Khan said. ‘They both have job interviews in the morning.’
‘Oh. Right. So that’s that then‚’ I said‚ with an air of what I hoped was finality. Parvez looked hopefully at Khan and I could just picture the chimps in Khan’s head trying to come to a decision.
‘No‚’ Khan said. ‘That’s not that. Fuck The Twins and fuck the weak-ass Pakis in there. We don’t need them. It’s just us… The three of us.’
Khan and Parvez bumped fists.
‘Hang on a minute! No fucking way‚ man. You both do whatever the hell you want. Don’t get me involved.’
Khan zipped up his nineties leather jacket with a disappointed shake of his head. I watched it slide over his growing belly.
‘Come on‚ Brother‚’ Parvez said to me. ‘We can’t let this go unpunished. We’re relying on you.’ He had this determined look in his eyes‚ a look that was new to me. It didn’t suit him. I was concerned that Khan was going to get him beaten up‚ or worse. ‘They disrespected the Masjid‚ Jay. We can’t let them get away with that. Right‚ Khan?’
‘Leave it out‚ Parvez. He ain’t coming‚’ Khan said. ‘Bunch of pussy holes‚ that’s what your generation is.’
‘Parvez‚ a word‚ please‚’ I requested.
‘Anything you want to say‚ Brother‚ you can say—’
‘Fuck’s sake‚ Parvez. Come here for a minute.’
Parvez looked to Khan for instruction and Khan‚ after giving me an arrogant smile‚ nodded acquiescently. I moved a few steps away and waited under a dimly lit lamp post. Parvez followed suit and stood in front of me. No‚ stood is wrong. He was excitedly‚ or nervously – probably the former – hopping around from one foot to the other. He either wanted to go toilet or he was just hyped up‚ probably the latter.
‘Parvez. Are you sure about this? This is not you‚ man.’
‘No‚ this is me‚ Jay‚ and this is you. This is all of us. I am sick and tired of being targeted. Personally and as a religion. Allah knows I try to be patient‚ bite my tongue and curb my anger. But with Khan behind me‚ I know we can hit them. Hard. Send a message‚ yes?’
Parvez the Preacher. Parvez the Pacifist. Now Parvez the Psycho. Drunk on a few meaningless words from a meaningless thug who he fucking idolised. I wanted to grab him by his Primark shirt lapels and shake the dumb out of him but I knew that would not make a touch of difference.
‘You’re sure about this?’ I asked
He stopped hopping for a moment and looked me right in the eyes. ‘I’m sure‚ Brother‚’ he said. ‘C’mon‚ Jay. Let’s do this. We have to be proactive in the war against terror. They think that they can—’
‘Parvez‚ shut-up for a second‚’ I interrupted. I had never heard the phrase war against terror used in the reverse context. It made me wonder. ‘And can you stop fucking hopping around for a minute and let me think?’
‘But Jay‚ we—’
‘Let’s go‚ Parvez.’ This time the interruption came from Khan. Parvez looked at me with expectant eyes.
I expelled air and said: ‘I’m coming too.’
The sight of Khan approaching my car with a cross spanner‚ a metal bar‚ and a cricket bat made me want to run him over. He got in and dumped the makeshift weaponry in the back seat and I watched Parvez weigh them up. At Khan’s request‚ we stopped at Parvez’s house first for a change of clothes. He now had on a topi and a lightweight‚ beige shalwar and kameez‚ over which he had on a bloody black leather jacket. He looked like an idiot. Or a target.
I drove at low speeds because I didn’t want to be pulled over with bats and bars in the back seat and weed and cash in the boot. My palms felt sweaty and I wiped them on my jeans. I flicked the radio on and tuned it to Sunshine Radio‚ an Asian community station which operated out of the heavily Asian-populated town of Southall. I heard the unmistakeable voice of the resident DJ‚ Tony Virdi.
New reports are coming in thick and fast. It seems that further attacks have taken place around the Ashford area. Five Asian youths were seen running from St Mary’s Church which had its windows smashed and was broken into. Also some local shops have been vandalised on the Ashford High Street and a local pharmacy has been set alight. It is not confirmed yet whether this is retaliation but the signs do not look good. After the commercials we are joined by Dr Riaz Ikram‚ the author of the best seller‚ “War‚ What Isn’t it Good For?” But please‚ for your own safety‚ stay at home tonight folks. This is Tony Virdi reporting—
I killed the radio.
‘Looks like Ashford’s taken care of‚ eh lads?’ Khan said to no response. ‘Yeah‚ Staines is the place to be. Especially Elmsleigh Car Park… You got any battle tunes‚ Jay?’
The last thing I wanted to do was put on some Gangsta Rap‚ it would only serve to make Khan more volatile. I looked in the rear view and Parvez was looking out of the window blankly.
‘Parvez. You alright‚ mate?’ I asked.
‘Course he’s alright. He’s a fuckin’ soldier. Ain’t that right‚ Parvez?’
‘Yes. I’m fine‚’ Parvez said. His words a stark contrast to his tone. ‘Soldier of Islam.’
‘Why Elmsleigh‚ Khan?’ I asked.
‘Elmsleigh Car Park is Kafir city. The place is full of good-for-nothing white boys. Doggers‚ slags‚ dealers‚ chavs‚ fuckin’ name it. Place is filth. They deserve to be hit.’
‘But what’ve they got to do with the attack on the mosque? Why are we moving on them?’
‘We won’t be the one making the first move.’ Khan said‚ inclining his head towards Parvez and smirking conspiratorially at me.
I pulled up around a hundred metres away and looked towards Elmsleigh Car Park and it looked back at me with bad intentions. Harsh orange lighting seeped through the slits between the three storeys‚ lending to its menace. The car park just seemed to breathe and pulsate wicked energy. From what I remembered from my one and only visit‚ there were badly designed‚ narrow bays and ticket machines that never worked‚ broken CCTV and the strong smell of piss. A haven for junkies and pissheads. Sexual activity of all kinds was reserved for the middle level‚ and the floors were littered with used condoms and joint butts. I scrunched my face at the thought of wheeling my Beemer in there.
‘Lose