East of Hounslow Page 4

  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.’

  7

  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.

  8

  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 the leather‚’ Khan said to Parvez.

  ‘Have a heart‚ Khan‚’ I said‚ as Parvez slipped his jacket off. ‘At least let him keep his jacket on. It’s freezing out there.’

  ‘It is okay‚ Brother‚’ Parvez said‚ placing his hand on my shoulder before stepping out of the car in only his shalwar‚ kameez and prayer hat. We watched him make his way to the car park on foot. God help him. Dressed like that it wasn’t just the cold that was going to get him.

  Khan reached in the back seat and grabbed a cricket bat and a small metal bar.

  ‘Take your pick. Or there’s the cross spanner if you prefer. But not easy to conceal.’ As if a cricket bat was! I took the cold metal bar. ‘Good choice. When it kicks off strike to the head. Do not pull your arm all the way back‚ they’ll see it coming a mile off. Short‚ shar
p bursts. Boom‚ boom‚ boom‚ and then on to the next one. Got it?’

  I nodded‚ I had no intention of striking anybody in the head. I was only there out of some misguided notion of loyalty for Parvez. If anything happened to him‚ his Mum would destroy me.

  ‘Okay. Drive. Slowly.’

  I pulled in and it was immediately clear that we would be outnumbered.

  ‘More Kafirs than I thought there’d be‚’ he said‚ helpfully.

  ‘Can we go now‚ Khan? Please.’ I was coming across like a coward but I couldn’t care less. ‘Let’s just grab Parvez and go. This is ridiculous‚ we’re so fucking outnumbered.’

  Khan reached inside his jacket and pulled his weapon. The blade alone was twelve inches long and it looked to be at least half that across. I couldn’t tell you if it was a knife‚ a meat cleaver or a machete. But it was shiny and jagged and I could see in the reflection the fear etched on my face.

  ‘This should even things up‚ eh?’ Khan said‚ as he pressed his finger on the tip of the blade and drew blood‚ which he then proceeded to calmly lick off.

  Parvez had clocked us drive in and positioned himself where we could see him‚ leaning against a pillar situated outside the lift about ten metres to my top right. To my left‚ eight hostiles‚ all white‚ a mixture of baseball caps‚ hoodies and skinny jeans. Not the culprits‚ but in Khan’s eyes; as close as fucking possible. They were curiously watching Parvez with a measurement of suspicion‚ wanting to react but uncertain in their approach. In fact‚ by their bemused expressions‚ they seemed more worried about him. There was muted conversation and puzzled looks. One guy‚ a grey hoody tightly over his head‚ shouted something across to him. Parvez put a finger innocently to his chest in a – sorry‚ are you talking to me? – gesture. I slid my window halfway down and wrinkled my nose as the stench of urine crept into my car. The guy shouted louder this time‚ loud enough for me to hear.

  ‘What’d he say?’ Khan asked.

  ‘He’s asking what have you got underneath your shirt?’

  ‘Ha! Does he think all Pakis walk around strapped with explosives?’ Khan said‚ as he typed out and sent a text message on his phone. ‘Sorted!’ he said quietly to himself.

  Parvez patted his chest and stomach to prove that he didn’t have anything underneath his kameez and they all took a tentative step back as though he was about to detonate.

  Grey Hoody leaned into the VW Beetle that he was standing next to and whispered something to the passengers. Two doors flew open and two guys stepped out‚ two seats were folded down and two girls stepped out from the back dressed in cheap tracksuits‚ one in blue shell and the other in sickly purple velour. They confidently strutted towards Parvez who had now pushed himself off the pillar. I watched him straighten his topi. There were about a dozen guys who had now gathered around the Beetle watching carefully‚ feet shuffling‚ a bundle of nerves and anticipation. Velour spoke first.

  ‘So… what?’ she said. ‘You some kind of pervert?’

  ‘No!’ Parvez replied‚ horrified.

  ‘Hoping to get your rocks off peeping into cars‚ are ya?’ Velour continued.

  ‘I am not a pervert‚’ Parvez said‚ eyes darting towards us and quickly away again.

  ‘Well what are ya‚ then? You look like a cunt terrorist‚’ screeched Shellsuit.

  ‘You fuckin’ do as well. You got big balls coming in here dressed like that‚’ Velour said‚ and then she moved with her hand‚ as if she was about to grab Parvez by the testicles. Parvez flinched and took a step back clumsily into the pillar. The girls laughed at his predicament.

  ‘Did you have anything to do with the attack on St Marys Church? Was that you and your Paki mates?’ Velour asked‚ animatedly.

  Parvez opened his mouth to respond but before the words could leave his mouth Shellsuit spat in his face and Velour ripped the topi clean off his head and turned towards the baying crowd and waved the topi in the air like some sort of fucking trophy.

  My fingers were wrapped around the door handle. I turned to Khan. ‘Now?’

  ‘No. Wait!’

  There were shouts of encouragement and sounds of laughter. With the back of his arm Parvez wiped the gob off his face and unexpectedly and viciously wrenched the ponytail of Velour‚ pulling her back towards him and snatched the topi back from her hand. She let out a high-pitched‚ earth-shattering scream.

  And that’s when it all kicked off.

  Parvez’s eyes widened and he ran‚ hat in hand‚ towards the stairs to the upper levels. The hostiles pelted after him‚ disappearing up the stairs to a chorus of Paki and Wog and the like. I gripped the metal bar and flung my door open. Khan did the same and we ran across the car park to the door leading to the stairs. I could hear my shoes in my ears pounding on the floor and I wished I had my Nikes on instead of my crappy mosque shoes.

  After quickly checking the first two floors we flew through the door of the third. I came through first‚ with Khan just a fraction behind me. They all had their backs to us in a small semi-circle. Through a small gap I saw a flash of cheap beige cotton in the foetal position‚ as Velour and Shellsuit reigned brutal kicks into Parvez’s back and ribs and the guys cheered them on. Behind me‚ a guttural‚ feral sound‚ a fucking ROAR emanated from Khan‚ which stopped the proceedings sharpish. All heads turned. Their focus was now on Khan as they first walked and then ran towards him. But they stopped short as Khan‚ bent at the knees‚ pulled out his blade with a smile.

  ‘C’mon then!’ Khan growled. ‘Who wants to take a ride in an ambulance?’ He waved the blade around in small circles in front of him like a sparkler. I ran to Parvez and helped him to his feet.

  ‘Shit‚ Parvez‚ you alright?’ I asked‚ knowing what a stupid question it was.

  ‘Yes. I’m fine‚’ Parvez said. I took him limping and hobbling to the far wall. He looked down over it as if jumping three storeys down was our only way out.

  ‘Jay‚ look‚’ he said‚ pointing down towards the ground. ‘There’s more cars coming in.’

  There was nothing I could do about that. Ten against three or thirty against three‚ what’s the difference? Either way we were getting fucked. Our best hope was to leave this place with most of our organs intact.

  Khan was now surrounded in a tight circle‚ holding the hostiles at arm’s length‚ fiercely arcing and poking the blade towards anybody who tried to cover ground. There was a serene look on his face‚ a look of contentment. This was Khan and this was his element. If he died‚ I believed he would die doing what he loved most. One brave soul came at him from behind‚ pulled his arm tightly around Khan’s thick neck. Khan dealt with that with a forceful backward head-butt‚ breaking his nose. He then spun on his heel to face him and brought the butt of the blade down‚ striking him again on his already busted nose. Blood and mucus fountained out as the chump fell to his knees. But this gave the others a small window to step in closer‚ and they took it. I saw a beer bottle bounce brutally off Khan’s head and it threw him off balance. His legs wobbled but he turned towards his attacker and gave a back-handed slap that lifted the guy off his feet and onto his backside. But then a flurry of strikes rained down‚ and Khan fell to one knee‚ and I could see him desperately trying to muster up some strength‚ but he didn’t have the time or the space and‚ all too easily‚ the mob swallowed him up whole.

  My mind whirled and span as fight or flight kicked in‚ and I blindly went in‚ knowing full well what would happen to me. I dragged one guy off and laid into him with the bar. The bar that I never intended to use. Striking him hard and quick on the side of the head‚ and then as he fell to the floor I continued to lay blows on his back until I heard the sickening sound of something shatter within him. I stopped. Before I could contemplate my next move a knuckle duster hit the side of my head‚ sending me sprawling‚ the bar slipped out of my hand and clattered somewhere around me. I was seeing stars. I shook my head to clear my thoughts and from a distance I cou
ld just about make out Khan getting the same treatment that Parvez had got from the two girls. But these weren’t girls‚ these were big guys‚ with big boots and big fists‚ stomping and pounding into his flesh. Grey Hoody was standing over me smirking. My eyes had not yet cleared after that knuckle duster blow‚ and all I could see were two yellow eyes and the devil’s smile. In his hand he held my metal bar‚ and just as he positioned himself to strike me the screech of tyres and the high beam of headlights deafened and blinded me further. Three cars haphazardly halted‚ doors flung open and feet hit the ground. All I saw were chequered ghutrah scarves bound tightly across faces. The cavalry had arrived.

  The game had just evened itself out.

  9

  After Khan’s back-up arrived‚ the scene became a blur. I couldn’t tell you who was winning‚ who was losing‚ whose blood was lining the tarmac or whose tooth had just flown past my head. There were punches and kicks and bars and blows and knives and fucking Khan‚ who looked as happy as a child at Disneyland. Someone was laying face down on the ground. He wasn’t moving and it frightened the hell out of me. That feeling intensified when I realised it was the same guy I had viciously and repeatedly swiped with the bar. A short while ago I’d wanted to hurt him with everything I had. Now‚ worried that I could have fucking killed him‚ I just wanted to help.

  I shook him by his shoulder gently and then again‚ a little firmer. Still no movement.

  How much jail time am I looking at? Am I going to get raped in prison? Am I going to rape in prison? Mum is going to be so disappointed in me. I blinked away my thoughts as I saw movement. Relief washed over me as he stirred and lifted his head and took in the surroundings. I followed his train of thought as he concluded that he was better off staying put and playing dead.