Naaim crossed the short distance‚ as Tahir greeted him with a Salaam and a smile‚ and pulled a chair into the circle. Naaim sat down heavily and looked passively into the distance.
I swear to God‚ the fucking drama!
‘Naaim‚’ Ira said‚ ‘been calling you for time. Everything alright?’
‘Yeah‚ you all good‚ Bruv?’ Zafar asked.
‘Brother‚ can I get you a cup of tea? We’re all out of biscuits‚ I’m afraid‚’ Tahir added.
Unlike me‚ whose relationship with this lot began and ended within the four walls of the centre‚ the four of them were tight. They’d met here but looked out for each other outside of Heston Hall Community Centre. I’d go as far as to say they were friends‚ with Tahir‚ older‚ been and seen thirty‚ playing the mentor figure.
‘I’m going to shoot‚’ I said‚ getting to my feet. ‘Catch you all next week.’
‘Naaim?’ Ira said‚ ignoring me. ‘What’s happened?’
Tahir‚ sensing all was not well‚ said‚ ‘Take your time‚ Brother. There’s no rush.’ Not what I would have said considering the hour.
Naaim closed his eyes tightly and we all watched as a tear escaped and slowly rolled down his face. His shoulders shook and shuddered and then it was open season as Naaim exploded into tears.
I knew then that I wasn’t getting home any time soon. Just to feel useful‚ I fetched a glass of water and a box of Kleenex and placed it by his chair. Ira had knelt down in front of him‚ holding his hand. Zafar was standing close by‚ at a loss‚ not quite knowing what to do. I sat back down and waited patiently in my seat for Naaim to tell us about the next brick wall that he and Layla had no doubt walked into. The seriousness of what he was about to reveal started to dawn on me when I noticed his quivering hand reach for the glass of water.
‘Let’s give the man some space‚’ Tahir said. Zafar sat back down‚ his eyes caught mine and we shrugged in tandem. Ira‚ who was still kneeling down in front of him‚ straightened up‚ pulled a chair close to Naaim‚ and sat down. She reached across and took his hand in hers.
Naaim nodded at the floor‚ took a deep breath‚ and shared a story of happiness that had been doomed from the start.
‘It was our first time meeting outside of school‚’ Naaim said‚ tear-soaked, balled-up tissues on the floor around his feet. ‘We’d just sat our final exams and I... I suggested that we should celebrate. It was my fault.’
His voice was soft. The others leaned in‚ apart from me. I kept my distance. My finger tap‚ tap‚ tapping away like a jackhammer on the seat of my chair‚ hoping that I could write off whatever was to come as kids play.
Ira squeezed his hand and smiled at him to continue.
‘Her father and her brother had made plans for her to celebrate the end of exams. When she told them that she wanted to go out and celebrate with her classmates‚ they said no. The first chance she had‚ she simply walked out knowing exactly what the consequences would be.
‘She’d told me that if she was able to make it‚ she’d be upstairs on the one-eleven bus. I waited at the stop‚ outside Chilli Chips like I said I would‚ and scanned the top deck as bus after bus came and went. And then there she was. Looking down at me. I was so happy… and so nervous. She smiled‚ and from her small smile... I knew‚ I just knew that she had gone against her father and brother’s wishes. Layla never broke the rules‚ but she did that... She did that for me.’
Ira jumped in‚ quick to give him meaningless advice‚ clichés. You’ll see‚ Layla’s father will come around... Just have to take it slow... It’ll all be all right... Zafar being Zafar said something very Zafar-like‚ she’s going to be dumped on the first flight to Pakistan and forced to marry her cousin. Tahir stayed quiet‚ a look on his face that wasn’t far from I told you so.
I kept my opinions to myself – only because I hadn’t formed any – and watched Naaim‚ head down‚ facing the floor‚ knowing that he wasn’t yet finished.
‘You don’t understand‚’ Naaim lifted his eyes‚ bringing the room to silence. ‘I got on the bus and sat down beside Layla‚ not knowing what to say to her‚ not knowing what was waiting for her when she got home. She leaned her head against my shoulder and took my hand and I thought... I thought that together we could take on anything and anyone.
‘We were alone on the top deck‚ our plan was to... well we didn’t have a plan. We couldn’t risk being seen out on the streets. We were just going to ride the bus to the end and back again... But when the bus stopped at Lampton Corner‚ I noticed three pairs of cherry red Dr Martens moving down the aisle. They sat directly behind us‚ on the back row. They were loud‚ brash‚ drunk. I could feel Layla squeezing my hand.
‘One of them tapped Layla on the shoulder. She turned‚ and he blew her a kiss. She turned back quickly to me‚ and they started to laugh behind us. I didn’t know what to do. The way she looked at me‚ did she want me to say something? Do something?
‘They had a newspaper – they were rustling it loudly on purpose and I could feel it skimming the back of my head. I know that they were trying to provoke me but I didn’t let them. They started to talk about the headline‚ and I knew at that moment I should have taken Layla’s hand and walked away the minute they got on the bus.
‘“Did you read the paper today? Front page news‚ check it out. One in every five Muzlims sympathise with Jihadi’s.”
‘“That’s so fucked up. One in every five Paki’s? Wankers!”
‘“It says here in black and fucking white. They did a survey. Look‚ the whole report is here on pages one‚ two‚ three‚ four‚ five‚ six and seven.”
‘Layla called my name... I smiled at her‚ as if it was all fine. I wanted her to feel safe with me‚ I wanted her to know that I would never let anything happen to her.
‘They split up. One of them stayed behind‚ another sat on the other side of the aisle across from us‚ and the third sat directly in front‚ turning so that he was facing us. He held up the newspaper with the headlines emblazoned on the front‚ big and bold‚ as though the words could not possibly be anything but the truth.
‘“So are you one of those five?” He said‚ I smiled at him as if I was in on the joke‚ “Nah‚ he ain’t no fuckin’ Jihadi‚ look at the fear in the Paki’s eyes.” Across the aisle one of them was pointing a camera at us. “What about your girlfriend? Is she one of those jihadi brides I keep hearing about?”
‘I tried to take control‚ I told him that we were both born here‚ raised here‚ that we don’t sympathise with what is going on. I said it coolly‚ as though I wasn’t fucking petrified. From behind‚ one of their arms slipped between us and rested on my shoulder – he was holding a beer can.
‘“Go on‚ mate‚ have some. Call yourself English? Prove it.”
‘He pulled the ring of the can. I flinched as speckles splashed on my face‚ the smell of beer was everywhere. Layla pinched her nose‚ she’d never before been that close to alcohol.
‘And