East of Hounslow: A funny, clever and addictive spy thriller, shortlisted for a CWA Dagger 2018

I could sense that the room was about to overreact again and explode into madness. Khan was counting on it with his whole plastic prophet speech‚ wanting to add another notch to his legacy. But before anyone had a chance to react‚ Shariff‚ a local community worker‚ stood up and‚ much to Khan’s annoyance‚ turned his back to him and addressed the room.

‘Brothers‚ I would just like to say that today I am proud to be a Muslim. The support and unity was evident at the clean-up at the Masjid… And look! Look around you right now. Taking time out of your busy lives to help find a better way. But… This is not it. We must use our heads‚ Brothers‚ and find a peaceful way forward. Violence does not resolve violence.’

‘Oi‚ Gandhi‚ sit the fuck back down‚’ Khan countered‚ but for the first time the dynamic of the room altered. Partly because Khan spoke rudely to a valued member of the community‚ and partly because of what Shariff had said – find a peaceful way forward. People started to fidget in their chairs as silence descended. Shariff turned to face Khan‚ staring at him challengingly. One of The Twins stepped forward with intent but Khan held him back.

‘You make a good point‚ Brother…’ Khan said.

‘Shariff.’

‘Shariff‚ right‚’ Khan said‚ making a mental note. It was clear that Shariff wasn’t going to be on Khan’s Eid card list. ‘We have tried and failed to find a peaceful way forward.’

Shariff snorted. ‘Khan‚ don’t be a fool.’ I swear the whole room took a sharp intake of breath as that word bounced around from ear to ear until it reached Khan and verbally slapped him in the face. ‘There is not a peaceful bone in your body. You came here only because you saw an opportunity. What is it with you? Why are you trying to corrupt our minds with revenge and violence? Is there not enough of that already? Like so many of us‚ you are a husband and you are a father. Think about our families‚ think about how they would cope if something happened to us… to you. And for what? Huh‚ for what? We attack them‚ then what happens? I’ll tell you what happens‚ a white version of you will give a similar speech to attack us right back and round and round we go‚ never able to break out of this deathly circle. And I don’t say that lightly‚ because there will be death. Eventually and inevitably. Is that what you want on your conscience‚ Khan?’

Khan’s smile didn’t wane but there was no mirth in it. He just nodded‚ with calculated eyes. ‘Brother Shariff. You have your way and I have mine. There is one jungle and one lion‚’ Khan continued. Left Twin narrowed his eyes in confusion as to where Khan was going with this off-script jungle/lion metaphor. ‘And when the lion is cornered he attacks with everything he has. That’s what we are. Lions!’

‘We are not animals‚ Khan. We are—’

‘Enough‚’ Khan shouted‚ loud enough for everyone’s Wudu to be broken. ‘This meeting is over‚’ he declared. As he looked around the room‚ his eyes stopped briefly on me before flitting away. ‘If you want to go against me then go home and put on your lipstick and bangles. Whoever is with me‚ meet me outside.’ He inhaled through his nose‚ nostrils flared and then with a puff of his chest Khan declared‚ ‘Tonight… we are soldiers.’

Unlike the last time when he’d referred to us as soldiers‚ and the room went fucking mental‚ this time‚ not a murmur. I could see the look on his face‚ he wore a crazy expression. Nothing good had ever come out of that expression.

Khan tried again. This time thumping his chest with his fist. ‘Soldiers of Islam…’ Again‚ nothing. No reaction‚ or at least not the one he was hoping for. ‘Soldiers of Allah!’ Man‚ he was getting desperate. I noticed Parvez‚ battling with himself‚ squirming in his chair. Parvez had always hero-worshipped Khan ever since I could remember‚ and now I could see his eyes siding with Khan. He started to rise from his chair; I grabbed his elbow and tried to force him back down.

‘Parvez. Don’t be a sap. Sit down‚’ I pleaded. But he wrenched his arm away from my grip and stood up. He looked adoringly towards Khan and thumped his puny chest.

‘Brother Khan‚’ he said‚ his little voice carried comfortably across the room. ‘I am a soldier of Allah.’

‘Good man‚’ Khan said. ‘What’s your name‚ Brother?’

Ouch. I could see a glimpse of hurt in Parvez’s eyes. Last year when Khan had been in trouble with the police for scratching cars with private number plates and needed an alibi or something‚ I don’t know the whole story‚ but Parvez sorted him right out. So for Khan not to remember his name must have really‚ really upset him… But he didn’t let it show.

‘Parvez‚’ said Parvez.

Khan nodded‚ some distinct acknowledgement‚ but not much.

‘Parvez‚ and anybody else who wants to join me. I’ll be outside.’ And with that and a scowl‚ Khan stomped out of Ali’s Diner.

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