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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

The camera turns a little, over the heads of a few more people. For a split second, like the camera has been dropped, it tilts down and I see Alan’s face staring straight at me. But it’s almost too quick to register, and I’m looking over the top of about fifteen people, past the signs that they’re waving, across a road. It’s a town – or a part of town – that I don’t recognise, but the people shouting seem to be behind some kind of fence, like the metal railings they put up for spectators to stand behind at marathons and things. Across the road there is a building behind a larger set of gates and fences – permanent ones, enclosing the building in a way that looks claustrophobic, as if it wasn’t originally designed to be fenced in. Behind the fences, the building is a faded white, with a steep roof. On the wall facing the road, the words ‘Jamia Masjid’ are visible below a picture of a crescent moon and a star.

As I watch, the doors of the building open, and the volume of the people near the camera gets almost unbearable. I have to pull the headphones away from my ears a little. Some people come out of the building, and start to walk towards the gates, moving as if to open them. They step back when a bottle smashes against the fence a metre or so to their left, and the camera swings around to see where it came from. Suddenly, more bottles are thrown, and the camera swings back as one of them flies over the top of the fence and hits the wall of the building. The people at the gates are by now moving quickly to get back inside. The doors close and a cheer goes up through the crowd.

Then the camera starts shaking violently, and what seems to be a police officer’s hand, the arm glowing in that familiar neon yellow, reaches towards it.

The video ends, this time with a title card – ‘We must secure the existence of our people and a future for white children – 14 Words.’

I’m still staring at this screen, headphones on, when I realise Mum is standing in the doorway. I slam the laptop closed as she steps into the room.

‘Are you alright, love? I’ve been calling you for ages. Done your homework?’

What did she see? ‘Bit of English to finish off. I’m doing it now.’

‘I fell asleep in the bath. I’m off to bed now. I can barely keep my eyes open. What were you watching?’

Nothing. She saw nothing. ‘Nothing Mum, just some school research stuff. English homework, like I said.’

‘Well, don’t stay up too late.’ And she’s gone, closing the door gently behind her.

TWENTY-EIGHT

TWENTY EIGHT

‘Thanks for not coming to watch this weekend, mate. We won five-nil!’