The Kings of London (22 page)

A girl took her clothes off.

Right there, on the far side of the auditorium, she stood from her seat and pulled down her jeans, then lifted her black jumper over her head, then unbuttoned a shirt.

Why, Breen didn’t know. A spontaneous, exultant gesture? A symbol of being free. A reaction in sympathy with the atavistic drumming and the chanting.

At first only a few people noticed, but soon the whole hall seemed to realise what was taking place. Men stood to get a better view.

‘Did she take it all off?’

‘Oh my God.’

All eyes had left the Hare Krishnas and the hippies now, and were looking at the girl. Pretty. Red-haired. An oddly unembarrassed smile on her face.

Somebody wolf-whistled.

‘I love you,’ shouted a man sitting behind them.

The girl beamed and waved. Free yourself and everything will be OK.

‘Put your eyes back in your head,’ said Tozer.

Breen sat down. ‘She’s not bad-looking, I’ll grant her that,’ he said.

‘God’s sake.’

It took the police less than a minute to start flooding into the hall, about eight or nine of them pushing past the people crowding in the aisles.

‘Pigs!’ someone shouted.

Was this the raid the revolutionary had been talking about? As they rushed down the aisle, people stood. The policemen hesitated, outnumbered, but only for a second. They pressed forward again.

Two rows behind the naked girl, another woman stood and started to pull a polo-neck over her head. Breen watched, bemused. Then a third started to undress. ‘Arrest all of us!’ she shouted. More women stood.

‘Get ’em off!’ shouted the man behind Breen.

Up on stage, Breen noticed the man who called himself Jayakrishna turning to Hibou and the other women. He was telling them something.

Hibou shook her head vigorously, but the other woman from the squat seemed to be less shy. She undid her wraparound skirt and dropped it to the stage, then pulled back her shirt and reached behind to remove her bra.

About half a dozen women were naked now – or naked from the waist up.

‘Fascists!’

Now the policemen were at the first naked woman, trying to pull her out of her seat.

‘Get lost, fuzz.’

A huge man in a denim jacket forced himself between the policeman and the naked woman.

‘Hell’s Angels,’ someone said. ‘They’ll stop the pigs.’

‘Fuck the police!’

Breen watched Hibou, fascinated. It was clear what was going on. Jayakrishna was ordering her to undress. Was she going to do it? Head down, blushing, Hibou hesitated for a second, then stepped out of her long cotton dress. Her legs were long and pale. Her head seemed to sink even further as she removed her shirt, then her bra, crossing her arms across her naked breasts. Some of the women were exultant, throwing their arms up, showing their bodies to the crowd. For Hibou it was almost an act of public humiliation.

‘You going to get naked too, love?’ A man in a green shirt leaned forward towards Tozer.

‘Bog off,’ said Tozer. ‘What I want to know is why it’s only the girls who are getting their clothes off.’

Next to Hibou, the other girl from the squat was smiling, breasts moving as she swayed from side to side. Hibou was trying to wipe her eyes with the back of her hand, not daring to move her arm too far from her bosom.

It had worked. People were cheering this spontaneous gesture of solidarity. The police had given up trying to arrest the naked woman now. They looked around. There were at least fifteen women now, mostly completely undressed, some in their knickers, others bare-chested. The policemen looked around, confused, waiting for instructions. They were lost. Uniformed men, faced with uniform undress. Their sense of order was melting. They had never had to deal with anything like this ever before.

‘Get lost, Nazi stooges!’

‘Pigs out!’

‘Christ,’ said Breen. ‘This is hopeless.’

From the stage, Jayakrishna stood grinning at the police with contempt. Among the throng of Hare Krishnas and hippies, he was holding his arms, palms out, in front of him in a messianic gesture. See what power I have over you? And Hibou, standing miserably in only her knickers, socks and shoes, behind him.

‘See?’ said Tozer. ‘Something’s not right.’

‘I don’t know…’ said Breen.

‘That was so awful,’ she said.

‘Wasn’t it?’ said Breen. ‘I feel sorry for those coppers…’

Tozer turned to him. ‘Not for them, you twat!’ she snapped. ‘For her. For Hibou.’

After the chanting there was an interval. People milled around, a little disappointed.

‘What if everyone did that when you were about to arrest them?’ said Breen.

‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’ said Tozer. ‘I saw you looking at them.’

Breen looked around him and said, ‘I don’t see the point of all this. It’s just embarrassing. Nothing’s really going on, is it?’

But then a buzz went through the crowd. People began barging past to find their seats again. Breen and Tozer returned to the auditorium. People were craning their heads. At the back, people were standing to see what was going on.

‘Who is it?’

Somebody said, ‘It’s the Beatles.’

A smattering of applause.

‘Only John Lennon. Not the others.’

‘Can you see him?’ said Tozer.

Breen found himself trying to see what was going on. People at the back of the hall were standing up so they could get a clear view.

Far away, at the centre of the auditorium, a couple, holding hands, were walking to the stage.

‘It’s John and his Japanese bird,’ said someone.

Breen had no idea at all what was going on. The Japanese woman was saying something into the microphone but her voice was very quiet and Breen couldn’t hear it. And then she and John Lennon got under the large white sheet and sat there, out of view.

‘What are they doing?’

‘They’re in a bag.’

‘Why?’

‘It’s a protest.’

‘How can you protest in a bag?’

‘It’s art.’

Breen watched the stage. A few people stood around the sheet that Lennon and the woman were under, but nothing was happening.

‘I bet they’re fucking,’ a man said.

‘I don’t think so. It’s not moving.’

‘They might be. You don’t know.’

Trying to see what was going on, Breen caught a glimpse of Hibou, now dressed again, pushing her way up the aisle towards them. A few wolf-whistles. ‘You’re beautiful,’ someone shouted.

‘Nice boobs.’

‘Get them out again, darling.’

Hibou’s face was still puffy with shame. Breen nudged Tozer and pointed.

‘Hibou!’ Tozer called.

The hippie girl looked around to see who was calling her name. She spotted Tozer and smiled shyly. ‘Oh, God. Did you see me?’

Tozer said, ‘Yes.’

‘I was so embarrassed,’ she said. ‘Was everybody watching?’

Tozer stood and put her arm around her, ‘Why did you do it, then?’

‘Because…’ began Hibou. ‘Because otherwise that woman would have been arrested.’

‘Did Jayakrishna tell you to do it?’ asked Tozer.

‘No,’ she said. ‘I did it because…’

‘It looked like he told you to do it,’ said Tozer.

‘I mean, it was his idea,’ Hibou said. ‘He said I should do it. But I wanted to. God, I hope nobody took any photographs. I mean, what if my parents saw?’

‘You don’t have to do things just because he tells you to,’ Tozer said.

Hibou blushed again, yanking herself away. ‘It’s not like that. I should go.’ She turned, and for the first time saw Breen.

‘Is he with you?’ she said, shocked.

Tozer nodded.

‘But he’s a policeman. I saw him, on Monday. He was… Were you following me?’

Tozer looked at Breen with a frown on her face. ‘Were you following her?’

‘Kind of,’ he said. ‘I just noticed you, that’s all.’

Tozer turned back to Hibou and said, ‘Thing is, Hibou, I’m a police officer too.’

Hibou’s eyes were wide again. Maybe that’s why they named her after an owl. ‘Are you lot spying on us?’

‘It’s not like that,’ said Tozer. ‘I’m just concerned.’

‘I liked you,’ she said, tears in her eyes.

‘Hibou?’

The girl had turned and was pushing away from them, through the crowd.

‘Hibou!’ Tozer called again, and started forcing her way after her.

‘Oi!’ a man called out. ‘Was you that girl with your thingies out up on stage? Let’s have another gander.’

People laughed.

‘Fuck off,’ said Tozer.

‘Chill out, lady,’ said one man. ‘We were only having fun.’

Tozer was faster than Hibou, not afraid of shoving hippies aside to get to her. Breen followed behind.

‘Stop, Hibou!’ Tozer’s voice was sounding more desperate now. ‘Please.’

She caught up, finally.

‘You’re not in any trouble. It’s nothing bad. We just want to help.’

‘I don’t need help,’ said Hibou.

‘Wait,’ said Tozer. ‘I saw a guy selling some cakes just now. I’m starving. Aren’t you?’

Hibou hesitated.

‘They’re macrobiotic. Paddy here’s a big fan, aren’t you? Come on.’ Tozer took Hibou’s arm and led her through the crowd.

Hibou followed, still looking wary. The man with the ginger cakes was still there.

Breen took out his wallet and found a ten-shilling note. ‘Cool,’ said the man. ‘Only I haven’t got any change.’

They sat cross-legged on the carpet, watching Hibou greedily stuff the cake into her face.

‘It’s cheek,’ said Breen. ‘Ten shillings for that.’

‘Don’t they feed you?’ Tozer laughed, looking at the crumbs falling to Hibou’s lap. ‘You’re eating like a refugee.’

‘You know –’ Breen squatted down next to Hibou – ‘I’ve been thinking. Do your parents know where you are?’

The girl frowned.

‘They probably want to know you’re OK.’

Hibou hesitated. Then took another bite of cake.

‘My parents don’t love me,’ she said.

‘Don’t they?’ said Tozer.

‘If they loved me they’d let me be me.’

‘Did Jayakrishna tell you that, too?’ said Breen. Hibou ignored him and carried on eating.

Tozer said, ‘If I was a mother I’d want to know my daughter was OK. That’s all. Just a message would do. She wouldn’t have to know where I am.’

Hibou nodded. ‘Jayakrishna says that they’re dead to me. We shouldn’t have nuclear families any more. That’s bourgeois. We share the kids in our house. Padma has two children, but I look after them too.’

‘Dead to you?’ said Breen.

Tozer said, ‘I argue with my parents sometimes. But they’re still my mum and dad, know what I mean?’

Hibou started crying. ‘But I don’t want my mum and dad to know about me,’ she said.

‘She all right?’ said the man behind the cake stall. ‘Bad drugs?’

Breen glared at him and he backed off.

Tozer shuffled over across the carpet and put her arm around the girl. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Just don’t.’

‘Is it that you don’t want them to know where you are? Or are you worried they’ll be angry if they see you like this? That you’ve let them down in some way?’

The crying got worse.

Tozer said, ‘You don’t have to call them. I could call them for you. It’s easy. Or write. Jayakrishna wouldn’t have to know, either.’

Hibou looked up and said, ‘Could I have another cake?’

Tozer laughed. ‘Jesus. You’re starving, aren’t you?’

Breen said, ‘Just give Helen their address. She’ll drop them a postcard. No address or nothing.’

Tozer said, ‘I had a sister who disappeared once, and my mum and dad were sick with worry.’

‘Really?’ said Hibou.

‘They didn’t sleep.’ Raped and murdered. Left in a cold muddy ditch. Body gnawed by rats and foxes.

Hibou was crying again now, wiping her hands on her cheesecloth blouse. ‘Will you write to them, then? Like you said.’

‘Of course,’ said Tozer. ‘I’d be happy to.’

‘Only promise…’

‘I won’t say anything about where you are.’

Breen butted in. ‘Did a guy called Frankie ever come to the squat?’

‘Frankie?’

‘He lived in the house behind you.’

‘You asked about him before.’

‘He didn’t come to the squat. You’re sure about that?’

She shook her head. ‘He might have done. All sorts of people come. You came.’

Breen said, ‘Were you living there in July, when the police came to evict you?’

Hibou nodded.

‘I don’t understand. Why weren’t you evicted?’ Tozer asked.

‘Jayakrishna used his special energy. That stopped them.’

‘What?’ said Breen. ‘Special energy?’

‘He has special energy. He channels it. He’s an ascended being.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Hibou!’

They turned. Jayakrishna was standing by the door to the stalls. ‘What’s this?’

‘I’m eating cake,’ she said, looking at the carpet.

‘Who’s he?’ Jayakrishna was tall and muscular. Handsome and thick-jawed in a kind of Viking way. Tied around his wrist were different coloured pieces of cotton like the ones the woman had tried to tie onto Tozer.

‘A friend of Helen’s,’ said Hibou.

‘He’s a bloody policeman, you idiot.’ He strode over and yanked Hibou up by the arm.

‘Don’t hurt her,’ said Tozer.

‘Is this why you’ve been coming to the squat?’ he demanded of Tozer. ‘To spy on us?’

‘You got something to hide?’ said Tozer, standing.

‘You can’t touch us,’ said Jayakrishna.

Tozer was standing nose to nose with him, eyes narrowed. Breen looked around. A crowd was gathering.

‘Don’t,’ Breen told Tozer.

‘What did the pigs want?’ Jayakrishna said, glaring at Breen. ‘What was he asking about?’

‘Nothing. He wanted to buy me some cake. It’s OK. It’s macro-biotic,’ Hibou said, holding it up. Jayakrishna put his arm around her.

‘It’s OK now,’ he said. ‘I’m here. No need to cry, babe.’

‘She was fine,’ said Tozer. ‘We were just talking, OK?’

‘You fucking people. Can’t you see you’ve upset her?’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Hibou, crying again. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Come on.’ He put his arm around her. ‘We’ll take care of you.’

‘Course you will,’ said Tozer. ‘Remember what we said, Hibou.’

‘Look out, everyone,’ Jayakrishna was saying as he walked away, one arm round Hibou. ‘They’re undercover pigs. Those two there.’