Bin Jabbar waited for Latif to leave the small basement kitchen. He picked up the phone from the wooden table and before he could see sense he dialled his son’s number.
With each ring he heard his heart hammering against his chest‚ harder each time the ring went unanswered. His mind wandered into a darkness‚ each thought worse than the last. The call was eventually answered. Bin Jabbar gripped the phone tightly in his hand and pressed it to his ear. The first word that he heard trapped his breath and broke his heart.
‘Mum?’
41
Jay
I was well into my sleep and not even close to facing the day when my mobile rang‚ rudely disturbing me. I squinted at the digital clock‚ it was just past seven. Fuck‚ I didn’t wake up this early for work; I certainly didn’t wake up at this hour on a day off.
There was no voicemail set up on my mobile to act as a middle-man‚ so either I answered or hoped that the caller took the hint. But the caller was insistent.
I spun my body around and shifted to the other side of the bed. I reached out to the side table and clumsily palmed around‚ knocking a bottle of water and vitamins to the floor before locating my phone. I slipped out the charger and held the phone in front of my face. I blinked at it a few times as my vision cleared. It was a strange formation of numbers. Numbers I did not recognise. Definitely not a UK number. I had Mum’s Qatar contact details saved on my phone‚ so MumQatar would usually appear on my screen. I briefly thought about ignoring it‚ but maybe it was Mum‚ maybe she was calling me‚ for whatever reason‚ from another number. Whoever it was seemed desperate to speak to me. So I answered it.
‘Mum?’
I heard a sharp intake of breath. It sounded familiar.
‘Mum. Is that you? Can you hear me?’ Fully awake and alert‚ I shifted myself up so that I was sitting up against the headboard. ‘Call me back‚ yeah? This is a bad line. I’m hanging up. Call me back‚ Mum.’
I disconnected the call and sat staring at the phone‚ waiting for it to ring again. My finger hovered over the screen ready to swipe. I waited a few minutes and when she didn’t call back I freaked a little. I’d clearly heard something‚ so fucking familiar it made my heart leap into my mouth. A short sharp breath‚ as though she wanted to call out to me but someone had clamped a hand over her mouth and suffocated her words. To hell with the charges‚ I returned the call‚ but it wouldn’t connect. A recorded message in another language‚ Arabic‚ maybe. The national language of Qatar; the call had to have come from Mum. I quickly scrolled through my contacts list stopping at MumQatar and punched dial.
A male voice answered confirming my worst fears.
‘The fuck is this?’ I spat into the phone.
‘Jay?’ he said.
‘Yeah. The fuck are you?’
‘Jay‚ calm down. It’s Andrew. Are you okay?’
Andrew..! Fuck‚ Jay‚ get your shit together.
‘Andrew‚ where’s Mum?’
‘She’s having a shower… What’s happened? You’re worrying me.’
‘Did she just call me?’
‘No. She’s in the shower. Her phone is with me.’
‘Can you put her on?’
‘She’s in –’
‘I know! You said! Can you just put her on?’
He sighed. I could just picture him‚ Mr Mild Mannered‚ having to deal with the wayward son. What‚ did he think just because they’d moved to a foreign land that I would no longer be in her life? Think again‚ Andrew!
‘Just one moment‚ Jay‚’ he said politely.
I cursed myself for being so rude.
I heard him padding around the room and then knocking on a door. A muffled reply. Then the sound of a high powered shower and snatches of conversation.
‘Hang on‚’ he said to me.
The shower stopped. Some rustling around. More snatches of conversation‚ clearer now that the shower had stopped.
Everything alright.
I don’t know. He seems agitated.
Okay. Give me the phone.
‘Jay?’ Her voice strained‚ worried. I caused that.
‘Mum.’
‘Are you alright?’
‘Yeah‚’ I took a breath. ‘I’m fine. Did you call me a few minutes ago?’
‘No‚ I’ve been in the bathroom for the last fifteen.’
‘More like thirty‚’ I heard Andrew say in the background.
‘Oh‚ okay‚’ I said‚ biting back my overreaction. I tried to even out. ‘So‚ how’ve you been‚ Mum?’
‘You worried me. You worried Andrew. He was pale as a sheet.’
‘A bit of sun will sort that right out.’ Now that I’d heard her voice‚ the front was back. The wisecracks‚ the ill-timed wit.
‘Jay?’
‘Yeah‚ Mum?’
‘I am really trying here.’ Her voice softened‚ a door closed‚ a conversation between mother and son. ‘Andrew’s teaching job is going well and I’m enjoying the reception work. My life is close to where I want it to be. But I have to know that you are coping‚ because I will drop everything –’
‘Mum!’
‘Don’t Mum me‚ let me finish. If I think that you’re struggling‚ I will drop everything in a heartbeat and get on the first plane back. My priority‚ the single most important thing in my life‚ is you‚ Jay. That will never change regardless of where I am… Tell me that you understand.’
‘You’re overreacting‚ Mum.’
‘You make a frantic phone call demanding to speak to me‚ and I’m overreacting. Now tell me Jay‚ do you understand?’
‘Yeah‚ Mum‚’ I said. ‘I understand.’
‘Are you sure‚ Jay?’ She sighed. ‘Say the word and my bags are packed.’
‘Sorry‚ Mum. I didn’t mean to freak you out. I got a phone call this morning and I just had the strangest feeling that you were in trouble. I fu… I screwed up. It won’t happen again.’
‘Are you having night terrors‚ Jay?’
I laughed loudly into the phone. She returned it with a nasal chuckle. Night terrors! As though I was still five years old‚ and running into my mum’s room to check that she was still there because I’d dreamt that‚ like my father‚ my mother had gone too.
‘Nightmare‚ Mum. Don’t say night terror. And no‚ I’m not‚’ I lied.
‘So‚ you’re okay?’
‘Yeah‚ Mum.’
‘I don’t have to worry.’
‘No‚ Mum.’
42
Imy
Stephanie could have ended it and I would have understood. But I think she wanted desperately to believe. For Jack‚ for herself‚ for us. She’d left the front door open‚ insinuation clear: step through it as a man.
I’d felt relieved that another part of another life had been revealed. The truth had exhausted me and I slept peacefully‚ albeit on the sofa. It would take further effort on my part before I shared intimate space with her.
‘Did you sleep here?’ Jack‚ his features scrunched together‚ stood over me‚ not quite knowing what it meant‚ but knowing that it meant something. ‘Why?’
‘I was watching TV last night until late. I must have fallen asleep‚’ I said‚ my first words of the day a necessary lie. Jack got inside the blanket and stretched out on the other side of the sofa.
‘I’m not going school today‚’ he said‚ reaching for the remote. ‘Insect day.’
‘Inset day!’ Stephanie walked into the room. I could tell by her tired eyes that she hadn’t slept as well as I had.
I took her by the hand and gently pulled her towards me. ‘Get in‚’ I said‚ knowing I was pushing my luck. She stood her ground until she noticed Jack glancing our way. ‘There’s no room.’ She smiled tightly at me.
I sat up and moved into the middle. Jack‚ still stretched out‚ placed his feet on my lap. Stephanie sat down. Our shoulders touched‚ but didn’t stay that way for long. We sat in silence‚ eyes on the televi
sion‚ thoughts elsewhere. I side-glanced to my right‚ Jack gently chuckling to himself as Tom chased Jerry with a pitch fork. I glanced to my left at Stephanie‚ arms crossed under her hunched shoulders. The three of us under a warm blanket. There wasn’t anywhere else I’d rather be.
‘Today.’ I leaned in towards Stephanie. ‘I’ll tell Khala the truth about everything. Today.’
She slipped her arm in mine and rested her head on my shoulder.
With my family next to me‚ I made a promise that I would never again hurt them.
And to do that‚ Javid Qasim had to die.
43
Jay
Mum left to start a new life in Qatar around the same time that MI5 chewed me up and spat me out. I thought I’d be able to handle it. She thought I’d be able to handle it. We were both wrong and I think we both knew it.
I was starting to despise being on my fucking own. To despise the unwanted thoughts and unwanted memories. I tried to keep busy‚ keep my mind busy‚ but as soon as something a little out of the ordinary happened‚ my head was a fucking mess again.
That fucking phone call‚ man‚ it was still bugging me.
I had to stay positive. I had to keep occupied.
Idris was busy as a crime-busting bee‚ working all sorts of unsociable hours. I saw him occasionally; we shot a bit of pool‚ discovered the body of a drug baron that wanted me dead‚ you know‚ that sort of thing. I was seriously fucking lacking in the friends department. It was time to fill my life with Zafar‚ Tahir‚ Ira and Naaim. A motley bunch with varied personalities and definitely varied appearances. I created a WhatsApp group on my phone and added them all apart from Naaim – I’d get his number when I saw him next. I gave the group the name ‘Kaleidoscope’‚ which I thought described us perfectly.
I opened up the conversation.
Going to pop around Naaim’s later in the day.
Let me know if you guys want to join me. 11:19
Zafar
Nice group name!!! We need a profile picture. 11:21
Tahir
Jay. You surprise me Brother. I will be there after Asar Prayers. 11:24
Zafar
Tahir‚ can I catch a ride? 11:24
Tahir
Yes. If you join me at the Masjid. 11:25
Zafar
Um… 11:25
Ha! I’ll catch you guys there. 11:25
Ira
Will be there all day anywayz. CU L8R 11:28
It wasn’t quite lunch time‚ but I hadn’t eaten anything all morning. I popped a couple of pieces of bread in the toaster and whilst they browned I collected my cigarettes and sunglasses from my bedroom and went into the back garden for a smoke.
The Doctor had advised me not to smoke until my throat had fully healed‚ and then he advised me not to smoke after that. But my throat was healing nicely‚ and I was feeling pretty good about myself and the changes that I was trying to make. It was cause for a small celebration. What better way to celebrate than to spark up?
I walked to the far end of the garden and let my body mould nicely into the sun lounger. I looked up into the sky‚ just in time to see the clouds part and the sun to shine warmly onto my face. I smiled. It seemed like today the universe was on my side. I slipped on my shades‚ slipped a cigarette between my lips and sparked up.
From my vantage point‚ I could just make out a helicopter in the sky. Black with a gold roof. The kind of helicopter I’d seen on many occasions around these ways. The fuzz. It wasn’t unusual to see them hovering around once in a while‚ keeping an eye from the sky as joyriders led the cops on the ground a merry dance through the back streets of Hounslow.
I could only get through half of the cigarette‚ so I put it out and disposed of it in an empty plant pot‚ gave the cops a cheery wave and headed into the kitchen. I buttered my toast and placed the slices on a plate and walked into the living room. Through the front window I saw a police patrol car crawl past my house. I perched myself on the arm of a two-seater‚ which was positioned right by the front window‚ and watched through the net curtain. The patrol car had parked around thirty metres away to the right of my house. A brief moment later another‚ this time a police van‚ parked behind the patrol car.
Last year‚ I’d got arrested. Fucking cop car pulled up right to my front door. I was handcuffed in full view of my neighbours and taken away. I knew they’d all been watching and judging behind the twitching curtains. Today it was my turn to enjoy the show and pass judgement.
My money was on Chinese Ali. He lived across the road‚ not far from where the cops had parked. He dealt in high quality pirate DVDs‚ but since the explosion of Netflix and Kodi‚ he’d reverted to stealing and selling car stereos. Still. A bit of overkill though‚ with the helicopter. Must have been a slow day at the cop-shop. I took a chunk out of the toast and waited for the action to unfold. I didn’t have to wait too long as‚ from a distance‚ a grey Volkswagen Passat screamed down my road.
I carry stress in my back‚ and at that moment it felt as though a circus midget was catching a ride on my shoulders. I placed my half-eaten toast on the plate because I didn’t want my mouth full when I started spitting fury. Every fucking profanity‚ in every possible fucking combination! The Passat screeched past my house at speed‚ with no respect to the 20mph signpost. I didn’t catch sight of the driver‚ but I knew who it was. I’d once sat in that fucking car.
It screeched to a halt next to the patrol car. A rushed conversation through open windows.
My ears burning red as‚ no doubt‚ my name was being bandied about.
Reverse lights on‚ the Passat on the move again‚ the reverse gear not designed for the speed it was moving. The shriek of tyres. The two cop vehicles. The fucking ’copter circling over my back garden. Why don’t they just send an email out to all my fucking neighbours?
Please ensure you are all at home around 11 a.m. We’re going to fuck with Jay again. It’s going to be a hoot!
The Passat screeched onto the pavement right across my drive‚ effectively blocking in my Nova. And out he stepped.
Suit‚ fitted. Shoes‚ shiny. Face‚ fucking smackable.
I had just about had enough of them coming in and out of my life whenever they pleased and throwing it into chaos.
Furious‚ fucking furious‚ I opened the door before he knocked on it.
‘Get inside‚’ I hissed at Teddy Lawrence‚ as I looked over his shoulder. Yeah‚ the curtain twitchers were out in force. I shut the door behind him and stomped into the living room.
‘The fuck‚ man?’
‘Hang on.’ He held a finger out and put his phone to his ear.
‘Come into my house and tell me to hang on!’
‘Hang on‚ Jay‚’ he repeated‚ and into the phone he said‚ ‘I’m with Qasim. He’s secure.’
I looked out of the window. The police car and van moved away. I crossed the room‚ through the patio into the garden. ‘Jay‚ stay where I can see you‚’ Lawrence said‚ as he finished the call.
I ignored him and walked to the end of my garden‚ where I’d just enjoyed a smoke and contemplated the positive changes to my life. I looked up to the sky and the police helicopter was also moving away. I’d given it a small wave earlier‚ now it was getting two fingers.
‘Come inside‚ Jay‚’ Lawrence said‚ standing at the patio.
‘Fuck off‚ Lawrence.’
‘You want to have this conversation in the garden‚ within earshot of your neighbours? Come inside‚ Jay.’
I walked back inside‚ past him and his stupid face‚ which for once did not carry any sign of smugness‚ and sat heavily on the sofa. He pulled out a chair from the dining table and placed it in front of me.
‘What do you want?’ I asked‚ quietly. The fight leaving me‚ replaced by an almighty tiredness. ‘The police cars‚ the helicopter. All for my benefit. Why?’
Lawrence rested his elbows on his knees‚ clasped his hands and leant forward
‚ his face was close to mine‚ toothpaste close. ‘In case you made a move.’
‘Made a move‚’ I said‚ more to myself. ‘I haven’t got any fucking moves! All this cloak and dagger bullshit‚ if you want something just ask.’ I sat back‚ claiming some distance and muttered‚ ‘And I’ll tell you where to fucking go.’
Lawrence allowed me a moment to simmer down. Then said‚
‘At 7.02 a.m. you received a phone call.’
That helpless feeling‚ when I thought I’d heard Mum’s trapped breath‚ returned. Calling her back. Getting the recorded message. Arabic. Jumping to conclusions. Jumping to the wrong fucking conclusion.
‘Was it... him?’ I said‚ weakly.
‘What are you saying‚ Jay? You didn’t know?’
I shook my head. I couldn’t trust my voice to hold out on me.
‘We traced the call to North Afghanistan‚ the Faryab province. A place called Maimana… Mean anything to you?’
Another shake of the head. I took my eyes off him and they landed on my phone by my side. I glared at it‚ as if it was the phone’s fault. The first chance I got‚ I was going to replace it. New line‚ new number. One that I would not be giving out to fucking MI5.
‘A unit was dispatched to a small restaurant called Intazaar. The phone used to call you was located.’
‘He wasn’t there‚ was he?’ I laughed‚ cold and mocking. Yeah‚ inappropriate‚ but I was through giving a shit. ‘The hell is wrong with you? Find him‚ put him down‚ and leave me the fuck alone.’
‘Jay‚ you have to understand our position.’
‘How about you understand my position?’ I shot up and moved away without a destination in mind. I found myself standing in the middle of the living room‚ wondering if I clicked the heels of my Air Jordans‚ might I be magically transported to fucking Kansas. Lawrence stayed seated. He turned his head slightly and spoke over his shoulder. His tone measured as if to hammer home his point.
‘The Teacher is the most wanted man in the world‚ and you‚ Jay‚ are our only link to him. He’s tried to contact you once. He will do it again. You can help us find him and detain him for what he’s done – to you‚ to this country‚ to innocent people all around the world.’
Homegrown Hero Page 19