Anthony said.
‘I’ve seen you‚ too‚’ Simon said. ‘From a distance. Never seen you join in‚ though.’
‘Don’t agree with it.’ Kramer shook his head. ‘It’s not right.’
‘We got a Paki-lover on our hands‚’ Anthony said‚ his attitude clearly bolstered by having his friend by his side ‘Prime example of all that’s wrong with our country. If we can’t stick up for our own then –’
Kramer shot him a look‚ one that had shut down many in the past. He made a show of interlinking his meaty fingers and Anthony’s eyes travelled down to the red St George’s Cross tattoo on his middle finger‚ just above his knuckle.
‘What do you want?’ Simon slipped off his beanie hat to reveal a freshly-shaved head.
‘You’re wasting your time‚’ Kramer said. ‘These rallies won’t get you anywhere. Their beliefs sit side by side with my beliefs‚ but the objective is a political one.’
‘It’s something‚’ Simon said.
‘It’s not enough. And I think you know it’s not enough.’
‘That supposed to mean?’ Anthony said.
‘Last year. The attack on Sutton Mosque.’ Kramer left it at that. He picked up his coffee and took a sip.
Anthony glanced at Simon. Simon quietly kept his eyes firmly on Kramer.
‘How’d you know about that?’ Anthony asked.
‘The attack on the Mosque was celebrated across the country‚’ Kramer replied. ‘I made it my business to find out who was responsible.’
Anthony looked around nervously. Kramer smiled behind his coffee as he took a sip‚ amused at how Simon held his gaze like an equal.
‘Who are you?’ Simon asked.
‘I am one of many. And we’re making a stand.’
‘So are we?’ Anthony shrugged.
‘Don’t be daft‚ son. You think a few fucking marches and rallies is making a stand. Talk is cheap‚ and ineffective.’ Kramer leaned in and lowered his voice. ‘After desecrating the Mosque‚ you hid when you should have built on its momentum. Instead you wear a hole in your Doc Martens‚ marching relentlessly‚ trying to spread the word.’ Kramer straightened up‚ took his time looking them both in the eyes. ‘I work with a small organisation whose members believe that...’ he paused. ‘Action speaks louder than words. A belief that you once shared.’
‘We still do‚’ Anthony said‚ then looked across at Simon who slowly nodded his agreement.
‘That sounds like words to me‚’ Kramer said. ‘If I see that you are serious‚ if you are capable in making a difference‚ a real difference‚ then...’
‘Then what?’ Anthony asked.
‘My partner‚ who runs operations‚ would like the two of you to join us.’
The door to the dessert lounge opened with a cheery chime. The third lad‚ who’d been hanging around with Simon and Anthony‚ walked in and tentatively approached the table‚ trying his hardest to avoid eye contact with Kramer.
‘Where were you guys?’ he said‚ softly. ‘I was looking for you everywhere.’
Simon leaned over the table and locked eyes with Kramer. ‘Tell your partner we’ll show you both just how serious we can be. And...’
‘And what?’
Simon glanced across at the boy who smiled unsurely at him. He turned back to Kramer.
‘Tell him there’s three of us.’
I never did find the remote control so‚ back at my flat‚ I had to go back in time and operate the television up close and personal. Channel set to Sky Sports‚ I settled in‚ a bowl of crisps‚ two glass tumblers next to a jug of water‚ a bowl of ice and an unopened bottle of Jameson on the coffee table in front of me.
Compact was the word I would have used to describe my flat to any potential clients; pokey would have been more apt. The rent was set quite low‚ but I paid even less‚ one of the few perks of being an estate agent. A touch of damp on the walls‚ questionable décor courtesy of the previous owner‚ and a carpet which electrocutes. It sat nicely above The Chicken Spot which some may find distasteful – especially as the smell of greasy food was a constant guest – but‚ geographically‚ I found it convenient.
It was far from perfect‚ but for now it was all I needed. I could have easily moved in with Stephanie and Jack into their comfortable home in Osterley‚ and that remained the eventual plan. I know that she would like that‚ and Jack would be absolutely thrilled to have me always there playing Dad. However‚ for the time being I was enjoying living on my own after having lived with my Khala for the last twenty years. She was my mother’s elder sister. They were both originally from Pakistan‚ but while mother had moved to Afghanistan‚ my Khala had built a life in England. Both following their husbands in the name of marriage.
Khala brought me up with more love than I could ever have wished for. I owed her everything‚ but eventually I’d had to get out and do my own thing. Even though I’m thirty-six‚ she was horrified at the thought of me moving out.
‘People will talk‚’ she had proclaimed when I finally found the courage to tell her. ‘They will say that I kicked you out.’
I didn’t patronise her‚ she was right. In our community‚ people did talk. The textbook thought process was: Thirty-six. Not married. Not living at home with his parents. Something terrible must have happened!
I had to go though. I had to find a way of making things work with Stephanie and Jack – and I couldn’t do that living at home with my Khala. She wasn’t happy when I left home‚ so God only knew what her reaction would be when she found out that I have a white girlfriend who has a son from a previous relationship. For now‚ that had to be my secret.
*
I glanced at the time on my phone‚ considered pouring myself a small shot but decided to wait for Shaz who had just texted his arrival. He was downstairs ordering a bucket of hot wings. I shifted along the the two-seater as I heard his footsteps approach my door‚ which was left on latch so I wouldn’t have to get up.
‘You know what I don’t understand?’ Shaz opened with‚ as we touched fists. I could tell from his eyes that he was already high. ‘If you’re gonna hit a deer‚ would you get out of your car to check if it’s alright?’
‘You got skins?’ I asked‚ before he unloaded whatever was on his mind.
‘It’s a fucking deer‚’ he said‚ flinging a
