Incendiary Read online

  She was like that was Mena. Philosophical. I’d definitely of killed myself if it hadn’t of been for her.

  Mena’s philosophy started with Valium. Every morning she brought me 2 of them from the medical store. Little blue pills they were. I took 2 of those pills each day. One for my husband and one for my boy. Mena used to take a couple herself. That’s how come she was always so calm. You can’t blame her for that Osama you’d probably be the same if you had to live in Peckham.

  The weeks went by like that without any fuss. 2 Valium to be taken with sunrise. The nicest prescription. Me and Mena watched each morning what they were doing to London. First they stopped boats using the river. All those boat buses and disco ships and sightseeing barges. Well they just stopped them. They did it so you couldn’t blow up the Houses of Parliament Osama. With some horrible floating disco full of Semtex and Dexys Midnight Runners. They drained the life out of the river till it was just an empty vein with police boats drifting up and down it like white blood cells.

  Next they closed some of the bridges. I never did work out how that was meant to help. Maybe they thought it would demoralise your Clapham cell Osama if they had to go via the M25 to bomb Chelsea. Tower Bridge was the strangest. They raised it early one morning while me and Mena watched and they never lowered it again. It just stayed open after that. It looked like London was expecting something big to come up the river.

  What really changed the view though was the barrage balloons. One night I went to sleep as normal and the next morning there they were. Me and Mena watched them shining silver in the rising sun. Bobbing on the ends of their cables. It gave me the shivers. It was like a dream. Mena gripped my hand and I could see the goose bumps on her arm.

  —This is terrible, she said. This is grotesque. The world has gone crazy.

  —I don’t know about that darling. It all makes sense to me. I reckon it’s to stop them flying planes into the tall buildings.

  Mena looked at me. She had the nicest eyes Mena did. They were the colour of caramel creams.

  —Listen, she said. I know this might sound awful considering what you’ve been through but we have to get things in perspective. After I finish on this ward I go down to the cancer ward. I’m telling you it is like going into hell. Do you know how many people die in this country each year of lung cancer?

  —No.

  —33 thousand, she said. 33 times more people than died on May Day die mainly avoidable deaths every single year. I watch them suffer with tubes jammed in every hole of their bodies. It takes them months to die. But does this country declare war on smoking? No it does not. Instead we turn London into a fortress. As if that could possibly stop the terror. As if they couldn’t blow us up just as easily in Manchester or Pontypridd or the queue for the ice cream van on Brighton beach.

  I could feel Mena’s hand trembling. I watched a tear run down the side of her nose. It stopped on her upper lip. She had these very fine golden hairs there the way some Asian women do. I held her hand it was warm and strong.

  —You’re very young. You don’t have any kids of your own do you Mena?

  She shook her head. Another tear fell from the end of her nose. It fell glittering in the sunrise down through the barrage balloons and the disinfectant smell. It splashed down on the lino out of sight.

  —If you had kids. Well. If you had kids I reckon you’d be all for anything they can do against the terrorists. It doesn’t matter if it’s logical or not when it’s your own kids.

  —It matters if you’re Asian, said Mena.

  —You what?

  —Look, she said. My family is Muslim right. Do you have any idea what it’s been like for us? I don’t think you can imagine how it feels for me just to walk to work since May Day. To see the hate in people’s eyes when they look at me. I have become the enemy number one. There’s this one caff I walk past on my way here. The builders and the market traders go there. This morning I saw this old man in there. He must have been 80. He was reading the paper and the headline on the paper was THE CRUELTY OF ISLAM. He looked up when I walked past and he sneered at me. He actually curled his lips. That is the nature of this madness. It fills the sky with barrage balloons and people’s eyes with hate.

  We sat there very quiet me and Mena while we watched the streets waking up far below. London was a misty floating city with the thousand thick cables of the balloons lifting it into the sky. When it was time for Mena to go she turned to me. Her face was so young but the tears ran down it old and empty like the Thames. She took 4 little blue pills from her top pocket and popped 2 into her mouth and 2 into mine. She crunched her pills between her teeth. They worked faster that way.

  —Merciful pills, said Mena. Now we’ll forget about it all for another day. The hours will go by like a dream.

  —Lovely.

  —Yes, said Mena. My god isn’t cruel. A cruel god wouldn’t help us forget. This is why we say Allah Akbar. God is great.

  I smiled at her and crunched my pills and felt the bitter taste spread across my tongue.

  —Allah Akbar.

  Mena gave me this lovely smile and touched her right hand to her heart.

  —I must go, she said.

  —Thank you darling. I’ll see you tomorrow.

  But I didn’t see her tomorrow. In fact I never did see Mena again. The next morning the sun turned up just like normal but Mena didn’t. A new nurse came instead. She was Australian. She was blond and cheerful. You couldn’t look at her without thinking 19 YEAR OLD PARTY GIRL SHARLENE IN HOSPITAL ROMP.

  —Hello. What happened to Mena?

  —They stopped her working didn’t they? said the new nurse.

  —Come again?

  —Muslim wasn’t she? said the new nurse. Security risk. They suspended all of them from working as of midnight. This country’s finally starting to get it. Don’t get me wrong. I’m sure 99 percent of the Muslims are fine but if you can’t trust some of them you can’t trust any of them can you?

  —Well when’s Mena going to come back? How long are they all suspended for?

  —Who knows? said the new nurse. They say the suspension is indefinite but temporary.

  —What does that mean?

  —Who cares? said the new nurse. I’m not complaining. I need the work.

  —Yeah but they can’t just stop all the Muslims from working.

  —Oh they haven’t, said the new nurse. Only the ones who fly planes and work in hospitals and whatnot or have access to certain information.

  —This is crazy. I’m going to write to my MP.

  —You go girl, said the new nurse. I hope your MP’s not Muslim.

  I sank back into my pillow and I waited for the last of yesterday’s Valium to wear off. The new nurse didn’t hold my hand. She didn’t watch the sunrise with me. She didn’t bring me any more little blue pills to make my mind blank. By lunchtime my dead chaps had moved into the place where the pills had been. It felt like they died again every single second.

  It always started the same way. I’d start to think of my boy fast asleep in his bed. He had this pair of tiger pyjamas. I don’t know if I already told you that Osama. I would think of my boy asleep very peaceful in his tiger pyjamas and I would smile. I would be full of joy I couldn’t help myself. And then it would hit me right in the guts that he was gone. Then all that joy was left behind like your stomach when you drive too fast over a bridge.

  * * *

  It hit me like that every minute for days and days. It was a torture. I couldn’t sleep. Everything I ate came straight back up. They put me on a drip. Whenever I looked at the drip I heard the music from Holby City. It made me so nervous. I lay there watching tiny bubbles rise inside the plastic tube that went up from my arm to the drip bag. I watched the bubbles rise through the London skyline between the Gherkin Building and the NatWest tower and finish up in the drip bag that floated high above me.

  At night I used to climb out of my bed and crawl around the ward. I dragged the drip stand after me.
It didn’t steer well. It had one lazy wheel like the trolleys in Asda. I dragged it behind me banging into beds and chairs and hoping the noise wouldn’t wake the other ladies on the ward. I thieved pills off their bedside tables. I never did hold with thieving. I’m not proud of it. But I ate the other ladies’ pills anyway. Red pills white pills long blue capsules I didn’t care. Some of it made me sleepy but none of it made me forget for very long.

  Then one evening Jasper Black came. I suppose I knew he would one day. It was visiting hours and I watched him come through the same door Prince William did. He walked up to my bed. He was smiling.

  —Oh god not you. Go away for Christ’s sake go away I can’t even look at you.

  He stopped. He looked surprised. He was holding yellow flowers and a carrier bag.

  —I’m sorry, he said. I’ll just go then.

  I turned away and looked out the window. London was still there like a horrible memory and when I turned back so was Jasper Black. He was watching me. I prickled inside I was sure he could see everything. Like I was the patient in that game Operation. The plastic person with the see-through skin and the giblets you can take out one by one. The plastic lungs then the plastic liver then the plastic heart. I was sure he could see right into the middle of me. I watched Jasper Black looking right inside me to that place where my emptiness was.

  —Are you still there? I thought you said you were leaving.

  —I still will if you really want me to.

  —Well I do.

  —Alright, he said.

  But he didn’t leave. He just stood there holding his hands together in front of him the posh twat.

  —Why did you come?

  He didn’t say anything. He walked up to my bed and sat down. There was a brown plastic chair between my bed and the window and he sat on it. He put his flowers down on the floor with his carrier bag and looked out the window. London was huge and flat and brown in the evening light. He sat there very still for a minute or 2. I was watching the back of his neck and remembering how I held him there that first time in his flat. At first it was very nice. I could even feel my hands tingling. Then I started to see what his neck would look like with his head blown off it and the blood dripping like motor oil on the green lino floor. My hands went cold.

  —Why did you come here Jasper Black?

  He was still looking out the window.

  —London’s changed beyond all recognition, he said. And I’ve changed too.

  He turned to look at me. He was older than I remembered.

  —I so nearly went to that game, he said. I was all set to go. I had my hand on the door handle of my car when I saw you. I’ve still got the ticket in my wallet. I can’t stop thinking about it. If I had gone to the match instead of. Well. You know. Then things would have turned out. Well. You know. I came to see if I could help you.

  —Really? Well you weren’t much help looking for my husband and my boy.

  —You disappeared into the smoke. I searched and searched for you but you were nowhere.

  —Really.

  —Listen, he said. I understand it must be very painful for you to see me. It isn’t my idea of a perfect night out either if you want to know the truth. I didn’t want to come.

  —So why did you?

  Jasper Black looked out of the window and then back at me.

  —I couldn’t get you out of my head, he said. I kept seeing this picture of you with nobody to cook fish fingers for. It’s a stupid picture but you’re standing in front of the grill and suddenly you burst into tears.

  —You’re right it’s a stupid picture.

  —Yes, said Jasper Black. But I wanted to come and see if you were alright. It’s interesting. Before May Day I shouldn’t think I’d have given a shit.

  He leaned closer to the bed and touched my shoulder. I smelled him then. Oh god that clean soapy smell of him. I closed my eyes and watched the East Stand explode into smoke and flesh. I screamed. The other ladies on the ward muttered and tutted. Jasper Black took me in his arms. I didn’t want him to do that. I struggled but he held me while I screamed quieter and quieter until I was only sobbing. After a long time he whispered into my ear.

  —Yesterday I couldn’t stand it any more, he said. I was thinking what if she doesn’t have anyone looking after her? What if she’s all alone in that hospital with no visitors?

  —What do you mean no visitors? I’m an East End girl I’ve got my gran and my mum and 14 aunts and 10 sisters and all the girls from the hairdresser’s all rallying round to help. All saying Cor blimey apples and pears you’ll get over it love now how about a nice cup of Rosie. I’ve got all the support I can handle.

  —But you don’t, said Jasper Black. Do you?

  I sighed and looked at my feet making a lump at the far end of the bed under the bright green hospital blanket.

  —Nah. I’ve got no one.

  —Well you’ve got me, he said.

  I pushed him away from me.

  —You’re worse than nothing Jasper Black. When you touch me all I can see is that bloody explosion. I don’t know what I was thinking with you. I wish I’d never met you. I loved my husband and my boy but I waved them good-bye and I took you home and had sex with you on the bloody sofa didn’t I. And then my life blew up. I didn’t deserve my husband and my boy. I’m a slut. I’m a madwoman. You know what the hospital told me? They said there’s nothing left of my chaps except their teeth. I could bury the pair of them in a flower pot. And here you are to remind me.

  —Alright, said Jasper Black. Alright.

  He held his hands up like he was surrendering. He pushed his chair back from the bed a little way. We watched each other for a long time not saying anything. The new Australian nurse came and changed the bag on my drip. Jasper Black watched her bum when she walked off.

  —Pay attention 007, I said.

  Jasper Black snapped his eyes back to look at me and then he laughed and shook his head.

  —I don’t get it, he said. You’re funny. You’re pretty. How is it possible that no one visits?

  —Don’t get me started about my family.

  —What about friends? he said.

  —I said don’t get me started.

  He shrugged and shut up for a bit. It’s an incredible sight from the top of Guy’s it’s a shame you have to be half dead to get a good view in London. We both just looked out of the window down at the streetlights starting to come on.

  —He never found out. My husband I mean.

  —How do you know? said Jasper Black.

  —He would of said something.

  —Maybe he wouldn’t have.

  —Wouldn’t you of?

  —Well yes I probably would, said Jasper Black. But then maybe the life I have with Petra isn’t worth saving. Maybe your husband knew but he kept his mouth shut because he didn’t want to spoil the life you had.

  —I wouldn’t know would I?

  —I think it was worth saving, said Jasper Black. That’s the impression I get. The life you and your husband had was actually worth something.

  I pushed myself up in the bed.

  —What do you want?

  He leaned closer to me again.

  —What is it like? he said. To be a parent I mean.

  I sighed.

  —Once my boy drew me a picture of a dream he’d had. I couldn’t see what the picture was of. I mean you never can tell with kids’ pictures can you?

  —I don’t know, said Jasper Black. I’ve never been around kids.

  —Well let me tell you then. If they do an orange squiggle it might be the Death Star blowing up or it might be a carrot. And god help you if you get it wrong. So you ask first don’t you. I asked my boy what’s that? And my boy said it’s Tigger Mummy he’s giving you a hug because you’re so nice. He was such a lovely sweet boy. Of course he could be a right little horror too. I don’t know how many nights I stayed up with him poorly. Or how many times I had to wash his crayon marks off the walls. If it wasn’t o
ne thing it was another from 6 a.m. till we finally got him off to sleep. I used to wish I had just a moment of time to myself. And now that I do have time to myself it’s the last thing I want. It’s silly really.

  —No it isn’t, said Jasper Black. I know just what you mean. I live with deadlines on the newspaper. I loathe them but I don’t think I could operate without them any more. All structure would be lost.

  —Oh really. Then you’d best hope nobody blows up your precious newspaper.

  Jasper Black opened his eyes wide.

  —Oh Jesus, he said what a prick I’m being.

  —Yeah. But I suppose you’re trying.

  —It’s just so difficult, he said. To know what to say I mean.

  —That’s alright. I’m glad you came really.

  —I’ve brought something for you, he said.

  —I can see. Nice flowers. I’ll ask the nurse to put them in water if you can keep your peepers off her knockers for a second.

  —It’s not just the flowers, said Jasper Black. There’s something else too. I’m not sure if I’ve done the right thing. I don’t want to upset you.

  —What is it?

  —I have a lot of contacts, he said. It’s my job really. I know people in the security services. After the explosion a large number of personal effects were recovered and not claimed. Jewellery and broken watches and so forth. I got them to let me look through it all. I was looking for something in particular. I heard you talking about it and I thought I would try to find it for you because I thought it might. Well. You know. Help. Anyway I finally found it and I have it here. If you don’t want it then I am most terribly sorry and I’ll take it away again.

  —What is it?

  Although of course I’d already guessed by now. Jasper Black took Mr. Rabbit out of the carrier bag and gave him to me. It’s funny but you never see the big things first do you? You see the small things. The things you know just how to fix. I took Mr. Rabbit out of Jasper Black’s hand and I thought oh hello Mr. Rabbit well you have been in the wars haven’t you? Look you’ve lost your paw. I know just what we’ll do about that. We’ll take a needle and thread and we’ll sew that paw back up for you and you’ll be right as rain just with that arm a little shorter eh. And after that we’ll give you a spin in the washing machine. I know you don’t like the washing machine do you Mr. Rabbit but I’m afraid there’s nothing else for it. We’ll pop you in on a boil wash and that should get most of these nasty black stains off you. There’s a brave bunny.