The Girl by the Thames (19 page)

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Authors: Peter Boland

BOOK: The Girl by the Thames
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“What’s Simple Minds?” asked Lena.

“Only the best band in the whole world,” Greg replied.

“I’m so sorry, Greg.” Tanya said.

“I’m not,” said Rog, “Simple Minds are terrible. Now Genesis, that’s a band.”

“Oh please,” said Greg, “Genesis are shite. Don’t listen to him girls, he’s talking out of his arse. Come on let’s go home and I’ll tell you why Simple Minds are the best band in the world. For a start, they’re from Scotland.”

Chapter 20

When they arrived back in Woolwich, Greg was relieved to see his car hadn’t been torched and turn upside down. The riot had swept through like a tsunami. Cars had been set alight, bins thrown through shop windows and bricks and broken glass were scattered everywhere. The rioters had disappeared and Woolwich was back under the control of the police.

Rog returned the boat to its mooring while Greg gave the girls a lift back to Lena’s place.

“I’m going home now to sleep for a week,” he said just before driving off.

Lena pushed open the front door to the flat. A second later her mum clamped her arms around both of them in a massive hug.

“I was worried sick about you,” she said, breaking off her embrace to light a cigarette. “I thought you’d both been killed in those riots.”

Lena went to speak but Tanya beat her to it:

“Oh no, we were miles away from them in a boat, taking the whale back out to sea.”

“A boat? Oh no wonder I couldn’t get through, I’ve been calling your mobiles all night.”

“They don’t work, anyway,” said Lena, pulling hers out of her pocket. “They got soaked.”

Her mum took them both by the hand and dragged them into the flat, squeezing and kissing them as they went. “I’m just glad to have you back. Now let’s get you out of those wet things. Are you hungry?”

They spent the next hour wrapped in pyjamas and dressing gowns, sitting on the sofa with trays across their laps eating mouthfuls of spaghetti on toast. Lena’s mum flicked through the TV channels to catch different reports on the riots. Lena shifted uneasily, almost making the tray slide off her legs.

“Mum, could we watch something else? This is doing my head in.”

“Okay, let Tanya decide. She’s our guest.”

“Is there anything about the whale?” Tanya asked.

“Yeah,” Lena joined in. Her mum searched and searched but there was nothing. The whale had been overshadowed by the riots.

“Maybe they’ve got bigger fish to fry,” Lena’s mum said, attempting a joke. Tanya smiled politely but Lena didn’t. “Right, I’m off to bed now I know you two are safe.”

When her mum was gone, Lena got up and turned off the TV. She went to her room and returned with a bottle of vodka.

“It’s no good, Tan,” she said. “I’ve got to get lashed. My head’s messed up. I keep seeing that boy get shot. It won’t go away.”

Tanya snatched the bottle out her hand before she could get the top off.

“Gimme that back.” Lena jumped up and tried to grab it, but Tanya kept it out of her reach, holding it high above her head.

“I will give it back. I promise I’m not going to stop you drinking, just listen to me first.”

Lena stopped and flopped back down onto the sofa, arms folded. “Well?”

“Drinking will block it out for now, but once you’ve sobered up it’ll come back ten times worse.”

“So I’ll just keep drinking.”

“Really? And what happens when you run out?”

“I’ll figure it out, now hand it over.”

Tanya tossed her the bottle. Lena cracked it open and took three large gulps. It was followed by a long harsh wheeze and several hacking coughs. She put the lid back on and threw the bottle on the sofa beside her.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, I don’t even like vodka.”

Tanya sat beside her. “I think you’re still in shock that’s all.”

Lena gave out a weak laugh, “I’ve never been shocked in my life, usually I’m the one doing the shocking. Mad, eh? Then I see two crazy things: one horrible, one beautiful and in between I nearly get raped. It’s not like when you see that stuff on the telly. It’s all far away, but this is different, it’s too real. I can feel it inside my skull like it’s alive.”

“I know,” said Tanya putting her arm around her Lena.

“I want the horrible things to go away.”

There wasn’t anything Tanya could say to make that happen. All she could do was hold her tightly like she did when she found her at the burning car and hope somehow it
did
go away.

“I should go to the police,” Lena said suddenly.

“No, definitely not,” Tanya spoke quickly to snuff out Lena’s idea. “You didn’t kill that guy. We’ve been through this before.”

“But I was there.”

“So what? It doesn’t mean anything. The worse thing you did tonight was throw a brick and nick some phones. You didn’t even get a phone. Plus, you nearly got raped. I think you’ve paid your dues. We can deal with this. Okay.”

“I don’t think I can?”

“Think about what else happened tonight. You saw something unreal. You helped rescue a whale. He didn’t give up did he? He kept on until he was out of that stinking place and away from those shitty people. Think about him, okay, whenever you feel the fear coming, you just think of him.”

“Okay.”

Tanya held onto her friend all night until tiredness overwhelmed them both. They slept where they were on the sofa until the sun’s rays poked through the thin curtains of the lounge. They awoke to the sound of Lena’s mum putting the kettle on and the whine of the cheap portable TV that sat on top of the fridge in the kitchen.

“How you feeling?” asked Tanya.

“Tired and my legs ache like fuck.”

“Me too.”

“Lena held her hand above her eyes to shield them. “It’s sunny.”

“Yeah, not a bad start to the day. How’s your head? Still messed up?”

“Sort of, but it’s definitely better. Things always seem worse at night. Daytime’s much easier to handle.”

The two girls sat in silence for a while, squinting at the morning sunlight.

“He was good-looking, you know,” Lena said suddenly.

“Who?”

“The Indian guy. Somehow it makes it worse, don’t it? I mean why should it matter what he looked like. Shot is shot, whoever you are.”

Tanya couldn’t think of anything to say. Her friend had been to a place that she couldn’t understand and didn’t want to. It was something she hoped she would never have to go through. For now, all she could do was just be there for her. She hoped it would be enough.

Lena turned and faced her.

“Tanya, something else happened last night that I need to tell you about.”             

“What?” Tanya sat up, amazed there could be any more to come out of last night’s events. “Tell me.”

“We started the riots - the Niners and me.”

“Yeah, I know. You told me.”

“Duff was the one who had the idea to make it kick off. He found out about this group that met in a pub, secretly like, and we spread the word about them.”

“What kind of group.”

“Neo-Nazis. They call themselves the BFB – Britain for the British.”

“What’s that got to do with me?”

“Well, the police tried to get them out of the pub and that’s when the riot started.”

“I still don’t get it.”

“I think your dad was one of them. I saw him coming out with all the rest.”

“He could have just been drinking in there. You know, at the bar.”

“Oh yeah, totally. I could be completely wrong. I just thought you should know.”

Tanya skipped breakfast and left Lena’s immediately. Her clothes had been washed and ironed and were still warm from where they’d been hanging on the radiator. But the warmth did nothing to change the chill Tanya felt. She always knew her dad was scum and white trash, but this new piece of news gave her a whole different perspective on him. She had to know if it was true.

As she walked back home she tried to think of what to do if he did turn out to be a racist. Spit in his face? Report him? Grass him up to some black power group and watch them beat the crap out of him? None of these seemed to satisfy the rage bubbling up from her stomach. She realised she wanted answers. Why was he a Nazi? Was it even possible to be a Nazi if you had a black daughter? It certainly made sense why he had been such a wanker to her all his life. She was the black thorn in his white-skinned side. No wonder he didn’t want her hanging around the flat just in case his fascist buddies turned up.

Her mind went back to the night he stopped her from going into the lounge. The people he had round must have been from the BFB. He didn’t want them to see her. Otherwise he’d probably have been thrown out of their little racist gang. And what was in that box he had in the lounge? He didn’t want her going near it. The two things were connected and she was going to find out how.

Tanya quietly opened the front door – he’d left it unlocked again. It was still early in the morning so there was a good chance he’d be passed out. She found him straight away in the lounge lying on his back with his mouth open, his rhythmic snores like water lapping against the shore. The air was filled with the fumes of last night’s drinking and a bottle of whiskey lay by his side.

Tanya looked around for the box but it was no longer there. She searched the whole flat, peering in cupboards and riffling through drawers. There was no sign of it. She went into the bathroom and sat on the loo trying to think. Where would he have put it? There was a strong possibility it wasn’t in the flat anymore. He already knew Tanya had light fingers and was wise to all his little hiding places. Where was the one place she’d never looked before? Tanya sat on the loo, tapping her foot against the side of the bath while she thought. It made a hollow drumming sound. Kicking it a bit harder, she realised the side of the bath looked solid but was in fact a cheap hardwood panel.

Tanya got down on her knees and managed to get her fingertips under the edge of the panel, it came away easily. She levered it back, flinching when she saw all the dust and cobwebs under the bath. Lying on her front, she stretched out a hand and felt around underneath the bath. She winced as her fingers rubbed against damp mould and other disgusting textures she didn’t want to think about. Then she felt the edges of a plastic bag with something solid inside. A box. She dragged the bag out, which had been knotted tightly, presumably to keep it dry. Inside the plastic bag was the same box she’d seen in the lounge. Tanya took it into the kitchen and sliced open the top with a knife. Inside were a stack of leaflets printed on white A4 paper. She held it up to the light and read:

Want a better Britain?

Want to do something about it?

Then we want you?

 

The BFB meets every Wednesday 7pm at the Newington Arms back room

Bring yourself and bring your pride for your country.

So it was true. She screwed up the leaflet and threw it on the floor. Somehow, Tanya had always known he’d been into something like this. She felt relief as well as anger. She’d always hated her father. But now she had a proper reason to hate him. And that made her feel justified in doing something to get back at him. Something that would really hurt him and make him look like the idiot he was.

While she tried to think of what to do, she quietly put the box back where she’d found it and replaced the panel on the bath.

Tanya returned to the lounge. Her dad was still out of it, breathing heavily like an old dog. She stared at him for several minutes. So this was what the master race looked like. A wicked thought flashed across her mind. Her grin grew larger the more she thought about it.

“Dad,” she said quietly, testing to see how deep his sleep was. “Dad.” There was no response.

She knelt by his side and slid his mobile phone from out of his trouser pocket and began thumbing through his address book. He didn’t have many friends, so it was easy to find what she was looking for. Her eyes widened when she saw a separate address folder marked BFB. She couldn’t believe her luck; he had just made her job ten times easier. Inside the folder were about twenty names. So these were his little Nazi buddies. Perhaps it was time they found out a dirty little secret about one of their members.

Tanya stood up and stripped off down to her knickers. Carefully, she climbed on the sofa so she was straddling her dad with a knee either side of him. She lowered herself down gently so her buttocks were just hovering above his pelvis, then she held his phone at arm’s length and took several shots with the camera. She quickly climbed off and got dressed. Then she toggled through the shots she’d taken, chose the best one and deleted the others.

Tanya selected all the numbers in the folder marked BFB and sent the photograph to them. They didn’t know he had a black daughter. To the casual observer it looked like her father was having sex with a black girl, and enjoying it, seeing as his mouth was wide open and his eyes were closed. If he could ruin her life, she could ruin his. She left him still snoring on the couch and headed back to Lena’s.

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