We spent the day just hanging out. The whole estate was in mourning. The men were hanging around outside, propping up the tower blocks. Little groups united in their grief and their passivity. What were they talking about? What were they thinking about? About Nadia? About what might happen to them? They probably weren’t thinking about anything. They looked like concentration-camp prisoners waiting for time to pass, for something to turn up, waiting for the ground to open up and swallow them, for someone to come tell them to get home now because their favourite soap was starting. They looked so crushed, so sheepish, it disgusted me. The jihadists were down in their mosque making plans, their Kapos out patrolling the camp, looking at people like they were worthless prisoners. There was a fleet of cars parked outside Block 17, all brand-new, all clean and polished, so they obviously didn’t belong to anyone on the estate. We were just about to head off when – surprise, surprise – Com’Dad comes out of the basement with a bunch of people, some guys from the city council, some from local organisations and some people I didn’t recognise. That evil fucking imam had his arm round Com’Dad’s shoulder, like they were best mates and he was just giving him a few gentle reminders. Fucking fuck. The French authorities in talks with the SS, and in their own bunker too – that takes balls! Because we know what Com’Dad is like, he’s new school police, you make friends with enemies and you all play nice together. Fuck the rest of us, we’re dead, France is marching backwards with a truncheon up its arse.

Friday, 11 October

7 a.m. I’ve never seen anything like it. The whole estate is deserted: the esplanade, the alleys, the balconies, the car parks. Not a soul. Not so much as a shadow. Not even the old African guys in their Turkish slippers who sit out sunning themselves even when it’s pissing rain. If you wanted to make a movie about the end of the world, this would be the perfect film set. I never realised the estate was so ugly, so depressingly cold, so completely fucked up. Before all this happened, it all looked normal, everyone kind of liked the estate, we all came and went, we never noticed anything. Whenever I heard people complaining about the noise and the dirt, I felt like thumping them, it was like they were dissing us.