Ride or Die. Khurrum Rahman

those crazy Loose Women, as I tried to work out what matters and what fucking doesn’t. I was done with doing the right thing in the wrong way, and I was done thinking about those that didn’t deserve my fucking attention. But, you know, sometimes your mind betrays you.

      The fuck, man! Stop with this self-pity bullshit.

      I had Christmas in the sun with Mum to look forward to. I realised that my nails were digging into my palms. I flexed my fingers and shook my head clear of that shit. Those demons could take a back fucking seat.

      I lifted my head and peered over the rim of my shades across the pool to see if I could re-establish eye contact with my soon-to-be holiday romance. I watched her carefully, still perfectly poised, one leg stretched, the other bent at the knee looking like an Instagram post. She was no longer looking in my direction. She was chatting merrily away to a copper.

      He had gallantly picked up her towel, which had dropped to the floor, and handed it to her. She smiled and flirted her way through a show of gratitude. I had been about to make my move on her, tomorrow or the day after. But I had no chance with him knocking about.

      I laughed to myself in disbelief. If I’d had a pen and a pad, I’d have been taking notes.

      I took him in. He wasn’t in police uniform. In fact, he’s wasn’t wearing a stitch, apart from a pair of barely-there lime-green trunks that he’d probably borrowed from his ten-year-old nephew. He gave her a Sheriff’s nod and sauntered away, her eyes tracking his movement as he rounded the pool and approached me with a perfect smile on his stupid face.

      My best mate, and Hounslow’s finest detective – his words, not mine – Idris Zaidi. I hadn’t seen him in, I don’t know, a couple of months? A few? A long time considering that we once lived in each other’s pockets. Despite the fact that he’d got in the way of what could very well have been The One, Idris was just what I needed.

      ‘They’re letting anyone in here now, are they?’ I beamed up at him. ‘This is supposed to be a five-star joint.’

      ‘They dropped a star as soon as you walked in,’ Idris replied. ‘You going to get up and greet me properly or do you want to do this horizontally? You know I’ll do it!’

      I laughed and straightened up, and we bumped fists before bumping bare chests. It was as awkward as it sounds.

      ‘Mum?’ I asked.

      ‘Yeah,’ he said, using a straight hand to shield the sun from his eyes. ‘She called me, said you might need some company, so you know, thought I swing by.’ He smiled and ruffled my hair. The girl from across the pool was laughing like a cheerleader as though the jock had just kicked sand in the nerd’s face. I knocked his hand away.

      ‘Swing by?’ I said, fixing my hair with a flick of my hand. ‘It’s a six-and-a-half-hour flight.’

      As sunny as my disposition allowed me to be, Mum had read me inside and out. She recognised that I was at war with myself. She’d made the right call to the right person. It was just what I needed. I’d never tell Idris this, but he was just what I needed.

      In the evening Mum and Andrew joined us for a meal at one of the many bars at the Marriott. This one, can’t remember the name, something corny, turned into a nightclub late on and I could already see it filling up with young hungry holiday-makers and well-dressed hookers looking to clean them out for a slice of dirty heaven.

      ‘We should call it a night,’ Mum said, joined at the hip to Andrew, opposite us in a booth.

      Idris glanced at his watch. ‘It’s only just gone nine. Can I tempt you with a nightcap?’

      Idris always did that, always spoke like that around certain company, a little hoity-toity for my liking. Who says tempt you with a night cap? Like he’s just stepped out of a black-and-white flick.

      ‘I wouldn’t mind an early night, actually,’ Andrew said, making eyes at Mum.

      I wanted to believe that age was catching up with them, and that they were heading up to rest their old bones and not… you know. I made a face. Mum noticed, smiled beautifully at me, and they shuffled out of the booth. Idris stood up and gave Mum a cuddle, and shook hands heartily with Andrew, and told him what an immense pleasure it was to meet him. Seriously Idris, keep that shit real, man!

      Mum beckoned me over to one side, away from Andrew and Idris, and softly asked me the same question that she had been asking for the last two weeks.

      ‘Are you okay, Jay?’

      It was a double-barrelled, fully loaded question. We both understood the meaning of it, but neither of us was willing to mention or even acknowledge the fact that my dad, her husband, was dead. We just had to read it in each other’s eyes.

      ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Are you?’

      Mum smiled and replied. ‘I am.’

      I watched her watch me for a moment before landing one on my cheek and then rubbing off the lipstick with her thumb. She stepped away and linked arms with Andrew, then with a joint smile they walked out of the bar.

      ‘Right.’ Idris rubbed his hands together like he was trying to start a fire. ‘Drinks?’

      ‘Yeah, go on,’ I said. I didn’t have to tell him my order. He knew.

      Idris went off and ordered the first round of alcoholic drinks of the night. It wasn’t like we were hiding it from Mum, I think she knew, but I would never feel comfortable drinking around her. I did quit for a while, possibly due to the company I was keeping, but I was back on it. It helped, other times it hindered, but each time it numbed and clouded what I didn’t want to see.

      My stomach rumbled at the thought of drinking on empty. Once again, my choice of meal had been poor. I’d bent two knives trying to cut through the steak, so I gave up. The potatoes were too squishy, so I left those. The vegetables I didn’t touch, because they were vegetables.

      ‘Here,’ Idris said, handing me my drink, a bag of crisps, and some sort of health bar. ‘Figured you might be hungry,’ he said, taking a seat opposite me.

      ‘The hell is this?’ I said, holding up the health bar, all raisins and berries.

      ‘You don’t want it?’ he said. ‘I’ll have it.’

      ‘No. I’ll have it,’ I said, taking a bite out of it. ‘So, what’s new?’ I asked, through a mouthful.

      ‘Honestly, I needed to get out of Hounslow. That place is starting to depress me.’

      ‘Yeah, it’s not what it used to be. Lost some of its charm.’ I split open the bag of crisps longways and nodded at Idris to help himself. He shook his head. ‘Gone are the days when you could sort out shit with a good scrap. Now it’s all blades and shooters.’

      ‘It’s worse than that, Jay.’

      ‘Drugs?’ I nodded. Idris worked for the Met’s Drugs Directorate; he was basically a Narc. It was a role that had taken its toll on him. ‘Fucking junkies are taking over Hounslow.’

      ‘Worse than that, Jay.’ Idris took a sip and watched me over the rim. It was starting to become clear that he hadn’t just flown over to work on his tan.

      ‘What’s happened, Idris?’ I said, shifting my drink from one spot to another for no apparent reason.

      ‘I’ve been meaning to chat to you, but I couldn’t get hold of you at home. You could’ve mentioned that you were flying off on holiday.’ Idris took his time clearing his throat. ‘So when your mum called, I thought, I’m due time off work, so why not. I’ll fly over.’

       Stalling…

      ‘What’s happened, Idris?’ I asked, again.

      He took a sip