Subway 4

by Violet Hunter

  “You’re right, we need to find her.”

  The doorbell rang and he went to answer it. He came back, followed by a tall man with grey hair.

  “This is Leonard. He’s dropping off a copy of his latest book. He was head of the AF for a long time before deciding to write. This is Valerie.”

  “Nice to meet you,” he said, smiling and shaking my hand.

  “Maybe you could tell him about Anton sometime?” Matthew said.

  I didn’t want to talk about what happened to Anton as if he was some sort of statistic or campaign. I shook my head. “I’ve got to go now.”

  19

  JIMMY

  Now I’d got my alibi sorted I was less jumpy. If the cops came sniffing round I could prove I was somewhere else. Without any CCTV or forensics they had nothing. Chris had got rid of the phone and knife. He never told me where, just that no one would ever find them. Chris and me didn’t see that much of each other. It was like he didn’t want me around reminding him of what he’d done, but Shelley and me were good again. She was busy doing her new course and had forgotten about the scarf.

  The NER was preparing to meet the group from Scandinavia. Only the main representatives were coming, but altogether with our members we were expecting at least two hundred. Tyler gave me a lot of work taking messages. He didn’t trust electronic communication; there was surveillance everywhere, even on pay-as-you-go phones. I delivered messages to all the London branches asking them to get all their members there. One of the leaders, Graham Marsden, boss of the south-west London group, said he thought he could get at least fifty.

  “Everyone’s pissed off round here. I get about three enquiries a day from people wanting to join. I’ve had to turn away a few; some are real nutters, the sort who’d give us a bad name. We want ordinary white folk to join, more and more, so that eventually there’ll be a tidal wave of us and we’ll be able to wipe those immigrants out, like a massive tsunami,” he said, sweeping out his arms as if flattening a huge area.

  I was given the job of collecting leaflets from the printers. They showed the successes we’d had, like stopping a local pub being turned into a community centre for migrants and helping reinstate a council worker who’d been sacked because someone said she was a racist. I was taking a short cut through the next estate when my phone rang. I stopped and looked for the phone in my bag, pulling out several leaflets at the same time. I was shoving them back in when I heard voices behind me, talking Jamaican. I turned and saw three black men coming towards me. A leaflet fluttered to the ground in front of them. I scrambled to get it but one of them got there first. He picked it up.

  “Littering the street,” he said, sucking his teeth. “We can’t have that.”

  He was looking at the Union Jack and flicked it with his finger.

  “Ah, that beautiful symbol of unity; well done, I expect you’re spreading the gospel of racial harmony. Let’s see.”

  He opened it and the other two bent to look. They shook their heads and tutted. I started to go but one of them moved round and was blocking my path.

  “We don’t want your sort round here. We like it nice, no mess around the place, you understand?”

  The biggest one who was doing all the talking whispered something in another’s ear. My heart was thudding so loud I thought they’d hear. I was as good as dead.

  Instead, to my shock, they started laughing. I looked at them, hating them for their confidence and their disdain.

  “Give me the rest of those leaflets,” the big one said, holding out his hand.

  I hesitated and he advanced towards me. I pulled out the whole bundle and gave them to him.

  “Now piss off. If we see you round here again you’ll be mincemeat.”

  They moved aside and I turned to run. I could still hear them laughing as I ran round the corner. I didn’t stop until I was out of the estate. Fuck. I was meant to be keeping stuff under wraps.

  I told Tyler that the printers had made a mistake on the front page and were going to redo them. I was going to have to find the money to pay for the new lot but at least he believed my story.

  20

  VALERIE

  Renee was making me one of her delicious omelettes. Her father was French and had taught her how to cook. They were the lightest, most delicious ones I’d ever tasted. I made a salad and we sat down to eat. We talked about ordinary things, friends, films, music, all the things we liked.

  When we’d finished I told her about the photo.

  “God, that’s weird, maybe they’re the murderers, you better go to the police.”

  I didn’t answer straight away.

  “You are going to tell them? I mean I know they’ve been corrupt in the past but things have changed.”

  “Matthew thinks we should find out who those men are so we’re going to look for that girl, the one with the scarf.”

  “You can’t do that, it’s really dangerous, Valerie. Let the police do it.”

  She was looking really worried.

  “I’ll be careful I promise. I have to do something. It stops me feeling so useless and Matthew’s OK. I mean he’s a bit all over the place but he really wants to help.”

  “You trust him more than you trust the police then?”

  “I think so. He is in an anti-racist organisation, so he must want things to be different.”

  “But these people are murderers, if they’ve done it before they could do it again.”

  I knew I wasn’t going to persuade her that it was a good idea so I changed the subject.

  “How’s the teaching practice?”

  “The children are lovely. They don’t seem to notice that I don’t really know what I’m doing. Trying to teach maths, I’m hopeless,” she laughed her face lighting up.

  She seemed happy. I thought about the carrier bags full of books in my flat and the empty time I spent there, knowing that I was never going to act again. I loved Renee but I felt separate from her at that moment. I thought about our first year at college, Renee, Anton and me, how full of excitement we’d been and so determined to be good actors; now for three different reasons none of us was still acting.

  * * *

  I was at the wine bar with Matthew. We chose a table in the corner, which had a good view of the room. It was strange being out with him, like we were on some kind of date. We talked about what to say to her if we saw the girl. He said he didn’t think we should show her the photo in case she overreacted. There were two people serving behind the bar and several waiters but I couldn’t see her. A different young woman came over and took our order. I asked for an orange juice and Matthew a beer.

  When she came back with the drinks I said, “We’re looking for someone that we think works here, she’s small with long black hair, do you know her?”

  She looked a bit suspicious so I said, “I met her at a party. I’ve forgotten her name, I must have been a bit drunk.”

  She smiled at that and said, “You probably mean Shelley. She’s on her break at the moment, she’ll be out again soon.”

  We drank our drinks and tried to behave normally. After about ten minutes I saw her coming through a door at the back, heading in our direction. I thought the waitress must have told her we were there but she went straight to the next table to take their order. Matthew nodded at me and when she’d finished I touched her arm.

  “Excuse me.”

  She looked round. “Yes?”

  She didn’t recognise me straight away. I looked different to when I’d seen her last, my hair was shorter and I had make-up on. She took a step back.

  “You’re the one from the bus stop.”

  Matthew said, “We were having a drink and Valerie recognised you.”

  She looked from me to him and back again as if she didn’t believe him.

 
“We need to find out what happened to Anton,” Matthew said.

  “I told you I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He smiled at her. “We’re not trying to make trouble, we just want to talk to Jimmy.”

  “I can’t help you. I’ve got to go, there’s people waiting to be served.”

  “Please, it’s really important, a friend has been murdered,” he said, keeping his voice low.

  She looked around to make sure no one was listening, but the nearest couple were engrossed in each other. “I know Jimmy, he’s not involved in anything like that.”

  “We’re not saying it was him, maybe it was someone he knew.”

  She wavered for a moment and then sat on the edge of a chair. “You should talk to that Chris Mayhew, Jimmy hangs around with him sometimes. I’ve tried saying he’s a cruel person but he doesn’t listen.”

  It was that name again.

  “Can you tell us how to find Chris?” Matthew said.

  She got up, looking at him as if he was mad. “No way. He’d kill me. I’m not saying anything else. Now leave me alone.”

  She moved away and went across the room to pick up an order from the bar.

  Matthew leaned across the table. “At least now we know they’re definitely mates so it could have been Jimmy in the photo. She didn’t say anything about the NER but maybe she doesn’t know he’s involved. She’s obviously scared of Chris.”

  “What do we do now?”

  “I don’t know yet but we’ll think of something. Let’s have another drink anyway.”

  He told me about the AF, how many were involved and what their aims were. Once or twice I caught Shelley looking at us but she stayed well away.

  21

  JIMMY

  Shelley was at my flat and she was mad.

  “That crazy woman came to the wine bar last night asking questions. I want to know what’s going on.”

  “Shit, how did she know you worked there?”

  “How should I know? Don’t blame me; this is about you not me. There was some posh bloke with her who was pushy, kept going on about his friend being murdered.”

  She was getting louder by the minute. Luckily Mum and Liam were out.

  “What did you do?”

  “I was busy, I had to get rid of them so I said if there was any trouble it was to do with Chris, not you.”

  Now the shit was really hitting the fan.

  “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Why? It’s the truth.”

  She pushed her hair from her face; her mouth was closed and angry.

  “Don’t interfere with stuff you don’t know about.”

  Without thinking I raised my hand but stopped myself before I hit her. She backed away and looked at me with disgust.

  “If you hit me it’s over. You used to be lovely and funny, now you’re angry all the time.” She pulled the belt of her coat tight. “If you’re going to tell me what’s happening call me, otherwise we’re finished.”

  I stared at her.

  “You don’t mean that.”

  “I really do.”

  She opened the door and went out without a backward glance.

  I threw my phone at the wall and it dropped to the floor with a clunk; I didn’t bother to find out if I’d broken it. Sounded like they were onto us. If Chris found out Shelley had dropped him in it he’d do his nut.

  That night I couldn’t sleep. The eczema on my back was spreading and my skin was itching like mad. I hadn’t had it since I was a kid and Dad left. I used to get it all over my hands and arms and all the kids at school used to laugh and avoid me like I had a horrible disease.

  * * *

  I got back from a hard day’s work and saw Liam coming out of my room.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Looking for that shirt you borrowed. I found this instead.”

  He was holding a piece of paper. It was an NER leaflet.

  “Are you involved with this lot? If you are then you’re an idiot.”

  He started reading. “Mass immigration is destroying our English landscape… Do you believe this shit? What about Great Granddad? He came over from Ireland. You’re part of it.” He ripped it into shreds. “This is why I’ll never invite Nitin round. You’re worse than Wayne.”

  “Fuck you Liam. Why is Nitin so important, you gay or something?”

  He took a swing at me but I caught his arm. He said nothing, just stared at me, hatred in his eyes. I let go and he walked out of the room.

  * * *

  My life was falling apart. Now Shelley and Liam were both on my case and knew far more than they should. I hated Liam for saying I was like Wayne. No way was I stupid. I had politics, I was doing important business, which was different to just being a thug. I needed to get away from home, put some distance between them and me. So far I’d avoided jail and I wanted it to stay that way. I started looking for rooms and after a few days non-stop searching I found a place in Deptford. It was a crap area but I could afford it, just about. Mum gave me a microwave as a present. Liam wasn’t there when I left.

  There were four blokes and one girl living in the house. The bath had yellow stains and the showerhead was blocked so water only came out one side. I hated sharing a bathroom with people who didn’t clean up after themselves. My room was long and narrow and one wall was bare plaster. At one end there was an electric cooker with two rings and a space for the microwave. I wasn’t intending to do much cooking anyway.

  It was weird being there. For ages I’d wanted to get a place of my own – thought about what Shelley had said on her birthday about us living together, imagined a beautiful new flat, maybe overlooking the river with a balcony and at night we stand with our arms round each other looking at the lights in the water. Instead my view was of next door’s yard which was full of weeds and rubbish.

  On my first night in the house I dreamt about the dead man. His face was black, pitch black, like the inside of a tunnel, then it began to get lighter and after a while he turned into a white person, one who looked just like Liam.

  22

  VALERIE

  The lamp by the park gate flickered three times, went off for a few seconds then came on and stayed on. It was always like that, except the sequence of flickers varied, as if each time was a different message.

  I wanted it to mean something – wished it was a message from Anton telling me he was still out there. I missed his funny texts, talking into the night about everything to do with acting, what we loved, what we hated. Most of all I missed being close to him. A part of me regretted that we’d spent the night together because now it wasn’t just the loss of a friend – my whole body ached. I remembered how it felt at dawn, the awkwardness from the night before had gone, our physical connection seemed more certain and more real. I knew if I tried I’d be able to recall every detail of that night, every colour and touch, every single word but I couldn’t let myself because it would hurt too much. I turned away from the window and pushed the memories out of my mind.

  Matthew called and said he had some news so I said to come over.

  “Nice place,” he said, looking around.

  I made him a coffee and we sat at the table by the window.

  “There are developments. I’ve been doing some digging into the organisation. They’re setting up a big meeting with a group from Scandinavia. It’s on the 24th of March. We haven’t pinned down the venue yet. I’m going to be there to see who’s going in and out.”

  “I’m coming with you,” I said.

  “That’s not a good idea.”

  “I have to.”

  “Look Valerie, it could get nasty.”

  “How can it be any nastier than it is already? And what have I got to lose anyway?”


  He looked sympathetic. “Alright, I see what you mean. If you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “We need to try to get in. The more we find out the better. If Jimmy and Chris are there it’ll prove they’re definitely in the middle of this thing.”

  He drained his coffee and stood up.

  “I’ve got to go now. I’ll let you know where it’s happening as soon as I can. We’ll try and get to the truth, it’s the least we can do for Anton.”

  For once he looked me straight in the eye.

  * * *

  March 24th came quickly. I got ready, putting on jeans, a black coat and a grey hat that covered my hair. I looked in the mirror. I could probably pass for a man but nothing was going to disguise the fact that I was black. I was scared but I was determined.

  The meeting was at a place just south of Tower Bridge. We met at the Tube and started walking. Apart from when he asked if I was OK neither of us said anything. We turned into the narrow street and slowed our pace. Up ahead a man stopped outside one of the buildings and rang the bell. We walked past, pretending to be deep in conversation. Inside a bouncer was checking someone’s ID. At the end of the street we turned the corner.

  “I was hoping there’d be a pub or cafe nearby so we could watch people, but there’s nothing,” Matthew said.

  “There’s no way we can get in. That guy’s massive and they must have a list of all the people attending,” I said, adrenalin starting to run through my body. I pulled my hat further down over my hair.

  “Maybe there’s another entrance. Let’s look.”

  We walked back and then noticed a narrow alleyway close to the main door. We ducked in. There was a side door further down, which must be the fire exit. As we stood there, trying to decide what to do, a black man in a chef’s uniform came out. He lit a cigarette. Matthew put his arm round me and for a moment I thought he was going to try to kiss me but he whispered, “He looks alright, let’s ask him about the meeting.”