Authors: Olumide Popoola
Breach (10 page)
‘What do you have to say for yourself?’
Alghali stumbles, surprised. ‘I don’t understand.’
The couple have finished their cigarette and return to the bar inside.
‘What have your people done this time?’
The other two are closing in on his back. The one speaking comes even closer. Alghali shields his genitals in reflex. It is quick and sudden, without any flourish.
The one in front punches him in the stomach.
‘For Paris.’
They stroll away as quiet as before in the park. Alghali coughs, his knees give way and he hits the paving. There is no noise outside except for the occasional wisp of music, the occasional laughter or drunken cheer from the pub. The thin legs enter his view first; they stop, towering over his face. Alghali’s hands are flat on the ground, helping him to steady his breath.
‘It is too late for you to be walking in this neighbourhood.’
Mr Dishman leans his stick against the wall and extends a hand. Alghali shakes his head and pulls himself up.
‘Nothing happened.’
He doesn’t want another lecture. He doesn’t need to hear more about the dangers of Islam to British society. Or Mr Dishman’s forceful opinions. How people are rightfully scared, and how some, inevitably, will take matters into their own hands. Not tonight.
‘I was on my way to you.’
‘Why?’
‘You haven’t heard?’
They are now standing by Alghali’s door. He is unsure what to do. The old man has never come up here; they always meet at Mr Dishman’s house, at arranged times.
‘A terrorist attack in Paris.’
‘When?’
‘An hour ago. It seems a man coming through the refugee route was involved.’
He still doesn’t understand. Why is Mr Dishman here? What does he want? He is right, after all, now he has proof. He has always told him, ‘You can’t trust everyone. Not all are decent men like you, young chap. Many that are on their way don’t have good intentions.’
‘That’s very bad news. Thanks for letting me know. I will watch the news later. You should go back home. It’s cold.’
‘It was a Syrian man.’
Alghali looks at him. Mr Dishman’s unsteadiness has given way to determination.
‘I’m not from Syria.’
‘People don’t make that distinction.’ Mr Dishman’s milky eyes look right at him. He is repeating what Alghali has told him. How he is mistaken, when need be, for anyone, to fit a description. ‘Be careful.’ He fetches his stick. ‘I will see you on Thursday?’
The old man is already moving towards the other end of the street. He is slow and deliberate.
‘Yes, Thursday, thank you.’
*
It is dark in his room. He lies on the bed without switching the light on, his eyes seeking out the ceiling. After a while he can make out the contours of the narrow wardrobe on the other side.
Everything has changed.
Suleyman is waiting for his call but Alghali doesn’t have the words to talk. He sends another text.
Our lives are this now. Never really home.
Suleyman’s reply comes in an instant.
Expect me. One way or another.
Many people helped to create this slim book. Warm thanks to those we can’t name, as well as to:
Tanya Abramsky, Mary Beattie and Elke, Tara Beattie, Julian Borger, Stephanie Brooks, Carolyn Dempster, Irene Garrow (English PEN), Emma Graham-Harrison, Sheila Hayman (Write to Life), Mazeda Hossain, Zimako Jones, Gabrielle Le Roux, Shaun Levin, Pontso Mafethe, Wakil Omar, Helen Simpson, Terence McGinity, Corinne Squire and – for everything from concept to completion – our publisher and editor, Meike Ziervogel.
European Literature.
Thought provoking,
well designed, short.
‘Two-hour books to be
devoured in a single sitting:
literary cinema for those
fatigued by film.
’
TLS
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Peirene Press is proud to support Counterpoints Arts.
Counterpoints Arts is a charity that promotes the creative arts by and about refugees and migrants in the UK.
‘We are living in a time of human displacement. We need bold and imaginative interventions to help us make sense of migration. And who better to do this than artists who are engaging with this issue.’
ALMIR KOLDZIC AND ÁINE O’BRIEN, DIRECTORS, COUNTERPOINTS ARTS
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Olumide Popoola is a Nigerian German writer of long and short fiction, based in London. Her publications include essays, poetry, short stories, the novella
this is not about sadness
and the play text
Also by Mail.
She lectures in creative writing, currently as associate lecturer at Goldsmiths, University of London.
Born in Zambia and raised in Zimbabwe, Annie Holmes left southern Africa and filmmaking to enrol in a writing programme in California. Her short fiction has been published in Zimbabwe and the United States, and she has co-edited two collections of oral narratives in McSweeney’s Voice of Witness series:
Hope Deferred
and
Underground America.
She lives in the UK.
Twitter @AnnieHolmesLit
First published in Great Britain in 2016 by
Peirene Press Ltd
17 Cheverton Road
London N19 3BB
www.peirenepress.com
‘Counting Down’, ‘Extending a Hand’, ‘Lineage’, ‘Expect Me’
© Olumide Popoola, 2016
‘The Terrier’, ‘Paradise’, ‘Ghosts’, ‘Oranges in the River’
© Annie Holmes, 2016
The right of Olumide Popoola and Annie Holmes to be identified as the authors of this work has been asserted by them in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not be resold, lent, hired out or otherwise circulated without the express prior consent of the publisher.
ISBN 978–1–908670–32–8
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Designed by Sacha Davison Lunt
Photographic image by Jim Simpson CC by 2.0
Typeset by Tetragon, London
Printed and bound by T J International, Padstow, Cornwall