Homegrown Hero: A funny and addictive thriller for fans of Informer. Khurrum Rahman

      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 that’s all it took; that instinctive gesture‚ the disgust on her face.

      ‘That’s all it fucking took.

      ‘It happened so fast. Someone screamed “This Paki bitch thinks she’s better than us.” From behind‚ Layla’s head was wrenched back and her hijab was ripped off and thrown on the floor. Before I could do anything‚ beer was poured over her head. She let go off my hand and tried to stand but she was forced down by her shoulders and then he... he... he forced his tongue in her mouth and then... they just left. And I just sat there.’

      Naaim stopped talking. He craned his neck back and stared up at the flickering tube light on the ceiling. The tears had started again‚ running freely down the sides of his face.

      ‘Motherfuckers‚’ Ira spat‚ shooting to her feet. She was always going to be the first to react. Her face set tight as though she was ready to explode. I gently shook my head at Ira and she sat back down biting back her response. She took Naaim’s hand.

      Zafar was leant forward‚ head in hands. Tahir had his hands out in front of him as he silently whispered a prayer.

      ‘Layla. Is she all right?’ I asked.

      Naaim continued‚ still staring up at the tube light. ‘She was on the floor‚ crumpled in the footwell. She had her back to me as if she was ashamed. As if it were her fault. I picked up her hijab and handed it to her. It was drenched in beer. Her hands were shaking as she tied it back on and then... and then she turned to me and she gave me this look‚ as though... I hadn’t been there for her... I wanted to hold her in my arms but I knew I had lost the right to ever touch her again.

      ‘She slowly got to her feet and walked away from me using the back of each seat for support. At the next stop she got off the bus and walked back in the direction of her home.’

      ‘Have you seen her since?’ I asked before silence consumed the room.

      ‘I don’t know if that’s a good idea‚’ Tahir said. ‘Her family will help her get through it.’

      ‘You could drop her a text?’ Zafar suggested.

      ‘I went to see her this morning.’ Naaim closed his eyes tightly‚ stopping the tears from escaping. ‘I knocked on her door. Her brother opened it. He must have worked out that it was because of me that Ira had walked out the night before and come back late. He was fuming. Their dad appeared behind him‚ demanding to know what I had done‚ said that she hadn’t come out of her room all morning‚ had locked herself in and wouldn’t answer her door. He was waving a key in his hand‚ said he’s going to let himself in and find out for himself.’

      Naaim dropped his head‚ his eyes still squeezed shut. He placed his hands on the sides of his head and applied pressure‚ causing his features to scrunch up in the middle of his face.

      ‘He went upstairs and... I heard him scream... loud... so fucking loud‚ deep‚ guttural. I’ll never forget it. Her brother slammed the door in my face and I could hear his footsteps rushing up the stairs. I walked across the road and stared up at Layla’s window.

      ‘Through the curtain I could see her hanging from the ceiling. Her body swaying from side to side. Her father and her brother had been too late to save her.’

13

       Heathrow Airport: Arrivals

      ‘Remove your sunglasses.’ The short‚ rotund‚ smug bastard Kafir at Passport Control rudely instructed.

      ‘Excuse me?’ Pathaan said peering down at him‚ as he slowly ran a hand through his oil-slicked hair. He was fully aware that he would be asked to remove his sunglasses. He was also aware that he should be keeping a low profile‚ especially travelling with a fake passport. But it was the instigator in him that liked to push just that little bit. Especially with