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Chapters (75)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise
  3. About the Author
  4. Title Page
  5. Intoroduction
  6. ONE
  7. TWO
  8. THREE
  9. FOUR
  10. FIVE
  11. SIX
  12. SEVEN
  13. EITHT
  14. NINE
  15. TEN
  16. ELEVEN
  17. TWELVE
  18. THIRTEEN
  19. FOURTEEN
  20. FIFTEEN
  21. SIXTEEN
  22. SEVENTEEN
  23. EIGHTEEN
  24. NINETEEN
  25. TWENTY
  26. TWENTY-ONE
  27. TWENTY-TWO
  28. TWENTY-THREE
  29. TWENTY-FOUR
  30. TWENTY-FIVE
  31. TWENTY-SIX
  32. TWENTY-SEVEN
  33. TWENTY-EIGHT
  34. TWENTY-NINE
  35. THIRTY
  36. THIRTY-ONE
  37. THIRTY-TWO
  38. THIRTY-THREE
  39. THIRTY-FOUR
  40. THIRTY-FIVE
  41. THIRTY-SIX
  42. THIRTY-SEVEN
  43. THIRTY-EIGHT
  44. THIRTY-NINE
  45. FORTY
  46. FORTY-ONE
  47. FORTY-TWO
  48. FORTY-THREE
  49. FORTY-FOUR
  50. FORTY-FIVE
  51. FORTY-SIX
  52. FORTY-SEVEN
  53. FORTY-EIGHT
  54. FORTY-NINE
  55. FIFTY
  56. FIFTY-ONE
  57. FIFTY-TWO
  58. FIFTY-THREE
  59. FIFTY-FOUR
  60. FIFTY-FIVE
  61. FIFTY-SIX
  62. FIFTY-SEVEN
  63. FIFTY-EIGHT
  64. FIFTY-NINE
  65. SIXTY
  66. SIXTY-ONE
  67. SIXTY-TWO
  68. SIXTY-THREE
  69. SIXTY-FOUR
  70. SIXTY-FIVE
  71. SIXTY-SIX
  72. SIXTY-SEVEN
  73. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  74. CLIMATE EMERGENCY
  75. Copyright

Maybe people are just too scared of each other, or of people and things they don’t know. Dad worked in London a lot, and me and mum used to go to meet him sometimes. Quite often actually. We’d do the standard tourist stuff – go to the theatre, do the London Eye, have dinner in Chinatown maybe. Or a few times we went to exhibitions, grabbed some food from a street market, or somewhere like that. I’m not saying I saw a lot of the world, but I think I saw a bit more of it than people do who never leave here. The woman that did the ironing never knew why we bothered. ‘You’ll never get me in one of them foreign places,’ she used to say. I think she meant London as well.

I’m not sure what I’m saying, but I get this hot feeling in my stomach when people throw that word around. Terrorist. It’s all over the newspapers. That’s why Mum won’t have any in the house. It’s why I have to get all my news (when I want it) on my laptop, normally after she’s gone to bed.

A while back, about six months after the explosion, Mum was asked to appear on some TV show and talk about what was being done about Muslim communities as a result of all of the attacks that kept happening. I think she was supposed to say how terrible it was that people were turning violent, and that we had to stay peaceful and not let our anger spill out and treat them as some of them treated us. She never did it, of course, and she only told me about it after she’d said no, spitting out the ‘them’s and the ‘us’es. I do remember hearing her swearing down the phone a few times to mysterious callers though – that must have been it. I wouldn’t have liked to be the person that asked her.

And then I think of the video that I watched – that I chose to watch – last night. And how I almost watched it a third time. And I think of that half-grin, half-snarl at the end. And my stomach gets hot again.

Of course, I say none of this to Jamie, who’s still looking at me and waiting for a response to the word he’s used.

I’d like to say, ‘he’s not a terrorist’. But I don’t. I just feel my cheeks burning even more under my bruise.

I’d like to ask Jamie if he’s asking my permission to look after a kid with brown skin because my dad was murdered by a person with maybe a slightly different shade of brown skin, which somehow makes me an expert on the matter.