Out of Heart Read online

  ‘But he’s gone—’

  ‘Now, come on, behave. I was talking,’ the bigger man cut in, voice dangerously low. He continued.

  ‘You have some time. Not a lot, but some. Now, I’m sure you’ll have our money very soon, but if you don’t, we’ll be having more than words.’ He said this last looking at both Adam and then pointedly at Yasmin. The two men were like two blocks of iron. Coarse and rough and hard. As the man towered over him, Adam stood his ground. His stomach was churning, but he wasn’t so scared of the men or the damage they could do to him. He was scared of the damage they could do to his mum and Farah. The big man knew this. This was his business. But when he next spoke, there was a grudging respect.

  ‘Not scared are you, son?’

  ‘No,’ replied Adam, looking into the man’s dark eyes.

  ‘Well, no reason to be, is there, if you do what we ask. It’s simple really.’

  The bigger man held out his hand for Adam to shake. Adam looked at the thick, gnarled fingers. Scars crisscrossed across the knuckles, they were like shanks of pulped meat. They had inflicted pain and felt pain. Adam refused to shake the hand.

  ‘Got a bit of fizz in you, lad. That’s good, that’s all good,’ said the man, bunching his hand into a fist. ‘Shows heart.’

  Involuntarily, Adam laughed. Your heart is the size of your clenched fist. This man’s heart would be huge. And ugly.

  The man looked at Adam strangely and glanced at his partner, slightly uncertain. After living with his dad’s abuse for so long, Adam had realised a few things about bullies. That if you stopped fearing them, no matter how big or strong they were, they lost their hold over you.

  The other man walked past Adam, still trying to stare him down.

  ‘We’ll be back.’

  Adam turned to watch them go and blew out a long breath, deflating his lungs of pent-up tension. Yasmin put a protective hand on his shoulder. It was the first time she’d touched him for so long.

  ‘I thought he was going to smack you when you started to laugh.’

  ‘Yeah, he had a dark look in his eye.’

  ‘I can’t believe Dadda owed any money to anyone.’

  ‘No, but we need to make sure, because they’ll be back.’

  ‘It doesn’t seem right.’

  ‘No, none of it seems right,’ agreed Adam. Lifting her hand from his shoulder, Yasmin turned back into the house. Adam stayed and watched the two blots stride down the street until they turned a corner and were gone.

  Yasmin stroked Farah’s cheek, giving her a tired smile. Adam stopped in front of her.

  ‘Did you see that?’ asked Adam. He had seen the curtain twitch and knew she’d been watching.

  Yes. Bad men?

  ‘Very bad men.’

  What do they want?

  ‘Money.’

  We haven’t got any money.

  ‘That’s what I told them.’

  Will they come back?

  ‘Maybe.’

  I gave them my worst evil eye.

  ‘That really bad one that you do?’

  Yeah, my worst, evillest one.

  ‘Then they probably won’t come back.’

  Farah had seen enough of the two men to know that they were bad. She knew that because of the way they had stood and the way they had kept their hands in their pockets. But most of all she knew because of the way they had smiled. They had smiled for the sake of smiling, not because they had wanted to. Farah had watched her brother too. She was always watching him. He was often hunched over, as if his rucksack had heavy rocks in it. He didn’t look up at the sky or look ahead. He looked down. When they went to the park, she would always prod him. Look up! Look up! He would smile and humour her, but then look down again. She could tell he wasn’t scared of the men, but he was frightened by what they could do. She considered going out there and thumping the men over the heads with her big book until they went away and wouldn’t come back, but thought her mum would get upset.

  Adam picked Farah up and squeezed her tight. She put her arms around his neck and held him close. Like a parent comforting a child, Farah patted Adam and stroked his back. Setting her down, Adam crossed his arms over his chest and pointed at her. Smiling, Farah took two fingers and pointed to her eyes and pointed at her brother. He had taught her it, telling her, I’m watching you. Now she was telling him the same. Seeing a smile on his face, a genuine smile, Farah was pleased. Crossing her arms, she pointed to him and waved. Still smiling, he waved back.

  Where’s William?

  ‘I don’t know.’

  He’s usually here for tea.

  ‘I’m sure he’ll be back later. Don’t worry so much about him.’

  Farah thought she’d go and spend some time with her book. William would soon be back in the moss-green chair.

  Yasmin marched into the room and tapped Farah on the shoulder.

  ‘Right, you two, I need some bits for dinner. Here’s the list, William. Farah will show you where and what.’

  William stood up uncertainly and looked at Farah then at Yasmin.

  ‘Don’t look so pleased about it. I need to give this room a good clean.’

  She gave William some money.

  ‘She likes to skip ahead, and sometimes she doesn’t concentrate when crossing the road. I need you to hold her hand. OK?’

  William looked down at Farah, who was hopping from foot to foot ready to go, and back up at Yasmin and nodded firmly.

  ‘OK.’

  Farah held out her hand, and William, looking at her little fingers, enveloped it in his large paw. Farah signalled that it was too tight, scrunching up her face. William slackened a little but still held on tight as they set out. Farah skipped, matching William’s long stride as they ambled down the street in the crisp air. William looked about him at the lively streets. There were people sitting on their steps chatting to friends and neighbours. Others sat in cars listening to music while a few boys kicked a ball across the street. He didn’t know this place and these people. Yet somehow he felt a closeness he couldn’t explain and a sense of belonging he had never had before. A sense of belonging that was not his. As they walked, William felt eyes on him, on Farah. Eyes that looked and then quickly darted away. Farah yanked on his arm and signed, This is fun, and skipped along, leading him towards the shops. Then she led William around the shop, filling their basket, working her way through the list. Pointing to a packet of chocolate digestives, Farah gave William the thumbs up. I know you like these! Looking down at the list, William didn’t see chocolate digestives anywhere. Frowning, he followed Farah around the aisles, putting things back that weren’t on the list. Finally arriving at the counter, Farah smiled sweetly at the shopkeeper and pointed.

  ‘How are you, child? Do you want your usual?’

  Farah nodded and held out her hand. Reaching behind him, the man produced a handful of liquorice sweets. Farah cupped her hands and stuffed the sweets in her coat pocket. Nodding and smiling, the old man reached down and patted Farah on the head. Then he saw William and his face changed.

  ‘Who are you, and what are you doing with her?’

  William thought about the question. Where could he possibly start?

  ‘I … I’m a friend of the family,’ he replied eventually.

  ‘A friend?’

  ‘Yes. A sort of relative.’ William regretted the words as soon as he had said them.

  ‘You, a relative? I’ve never seen you before.’

  Farah grabbed William’s hand and waved at the old shopkeeper.

  He’s with me.

  The shopkeeper looked at William with even more suspicion.

  ‘What did she say?’

  ‘She said, “He’s with me.” How much do we owe you?’

  Unconvinced, the shopkeeper took the money from William, still staring at him. Farah dragged William out of the shop and into the street. She pulled him along by the arm as other people turned to stare at them. William allowed himself to be led away from
the scrutiny of many sets of eyes and he lost all sense of direction until they arrived at the park. He blinked.

  ‘What are we doing here?’

  We’re going to the park.

  ‘I think we should go home. Your mum will be waiting.’

  Letting go of William’s hand, Farah made a face and sighed. She signed irritably.

  ‘OK, OK, we can go to the park for a few minutes.’

  Grabbing his hand once again, Farah led William to the adventure playground and skipped off towards the climbing frames. William spotted an empty bench from where he could see Farah wherever she was. Setting the shopping down, he slumped down heavily. There were a number of other kids on the slides and swings being watched by their parents, but William was glad they were on the other side, away from him. Farah leaped onto the climbing frame and made easy work of each obstacle. She had no fear of falling and the joy on her face as she climbed higher or jumped from one post to the next made William want to applaud. Daringly at the top of the climbing frame, Farah hung by one hand and waved at William with the other. Nervously William waved back, willing her to put her other hand back on the bar. Just as he was standing up to help Farah in case she fell, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

  ‘Excuse me, sir, could we have a word, please?’

  William turned to see two police officers.

  ‘What about?’

  ‘If we could just step out of this area, sir …’

  William glanced over his shoulder to where Farah was still climbing.

  ‘We’ve had some complaints that you’ve been harassing the Shah family. Turning up every day unannounced. So if you could just follow us, I’m sure we can clear this up right away.’

  ‘I’m not harassing them. I’m sort or … erm … part of their family.’

  Another look passed between the officers, and one of them nodded.

  ‘I’m afraid we’re going to have to insist that you come with us. We don’t want a fuss, not in front of the children. So, please, just come along and you can tell us all about it away from here.’

  William turned to Farah and, catching her eye, waved, beckoning her to join him.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘I’m proving to you that I’m part of the family,’ replied William.

  ‘Stop waving, put your arm down now. Sir. Do it now or we’ll have to arrest you.’

  ‘Let me prove it to y—’

  One of the police officers clamped a handcuff around William’s free hand while the other grabbed his other. William didn’t struggle, just turned to see Farah running towards him. Signing frantically, Farah ran alongside the police officers. What are you doing? Let him go? He’s with me! He’s with me!

  One of the police officers fell back and stood in front of Farah while the other pushed William into the back of their police car.

  ‘It’s OK. Go back and play now. We’ll deal with it. Go on.’

  The officer gave her a gentle nudge back in the direction of the park. Farah stumbled and watched in horror as both police officers slammed their doors shut and sped off.

  William sat in the detention cell staring at the grimy door. His thoughts a jumble, he tried to bring some order to his mind. Hooking his right hand over his left shoulder and across his heart, he rocked back and forth on the edge of the bench. He had suddenly realised in the police car how his being in the park would have looked to the policemen, and to the other parents. He had tried his best to explain why he had been there, and even to his ears he had found the words odd. He had realised then how fantastical it sounded. How outrageous. How irregular. I’m part of the family. The police officer had looked at him, as if to say, What are you talking about? It made him ask himself what was he doing. What did he want from this family? Could he give them anything? What was he, now that this heart was not his?

  He remembered lying in his bed, not long after the operation, feeling drowsy and being aware of the doctor examining him. His eyes had been closed, but he had been listening to the conversation between the two surgeons.

  ‘He seems to be doing well, even if it feels like he looks a bit sad about it all,’ said Dr Desai.

  ‘Yes, all points to a regular recovery. You say he has no family to speak of?’ replied Dr Herrick.

  ‘None that I know or was ever mentioned. What a strange quirk of fate that the very heart our Mr Tide needed was beating across from him the whole time.’

  ‘And what a fascinating donor Mr Abdul-Aziz Shah was. He said very little, and was adamant it had to be his heart, and only that.’

  ‘Well, he did a good thing, and now another gets to live in his stead and that’s what matters,’ replied Dr Desai.

  Unstrapping his watch, William stared as the second hand swept around the numbers. He should never have heard that conversation. He was hanging on to the Shah family. Using them to heal. Using them for his own selfish reasons. Using their kindness against them. They had already been through a lot, been used a lot. William sat back and leaned against the wall. Strapping his watch back on to his wrist, he knew what he had to do. Once the police let him go, William would leave the Shah family alone. Alone to grieve and alone to live. Having made his decision, he let the anchor drag him down into the deep, black darkness of his old heart. The heart that was no good.

  Yasmin, Adam and Farah waited at the police-station reception, trying to be patient. Farah held on to Adam’s fingers while Yasmin tapped her index finger on the desk. The police officer folded his arms and looked at her. Farah could tell he was not impressed.

  ‘How many times do I have to tell you? He’s with us,’ said Yasmin.

  ‘I appreciate that, Mrs Shah …’

  ‘It’s “Miss”.’

  ‘Miss Shah. But there was a complaint.’

  ‘What complaint?’

  ‘I can’t go into the details of that, but we need to investigate it properly before we can let him out.’

  ‘I told you that I sent him with my daughter, Farah. I gave him some money to get some shopping and they must have decided to go to the park. You decided to arrest him, and you left my daughter – a child – behind, to come home alone, distressed. What else do you need to know?’

  ‘It’s not as simple as that. There was a complaint.’

  ‘Complaint from who?’

  ‘People from the community, friends of yours.’

  Adam glanced at his mum and saw flames in her eyes. She was about to explode and the whole police station would be ablaze. Putting a hand on her arm to calm her, Adam spoke in a softer voice to the now frowning police officer.

  ‘Look, William is not whatever you think he might be. He’s not a criminal and he shouldn’t be here. Unless you’re going to charge him with something, let us take him home.’

  ‘We received a complaint, and we’re just trying to get to the bottom of this situation.’

  Yasmin blew out a hot gust of air and was about to start flaming the police officer when Farah yanked on her fingers. Signing deliberately, Farah looked up at the police officer and pointed to herself. The anger dissipated from both the officer and Yasmin as they watched her.

  ‘What did she say?’ asked the officer with weary resignation.

  Adam put a hand on Farah’s shoulder and squeezed it.

  ‘She said that what you’re doing isn’t right. William hasn’t done anything wrong, and going to the park was her idea. She said that he was good even if he was a little quiet, but that she was quiet too and if being quiet meant someone was a little odd or weird, then there would be lots of people in jail. That maybe then you should put her in jail too, because she didn’t like to talk much either. She also said that he had come to us, and that it wasn’t easy for him to have come but he did, and that was important and that’s why he was with us. That he belonged to us. She said you don’t look like a mean man, she can tell by your eyes, and all that frowning is just an act, and that you understand really and that you know what we’re saying is true.’

  The p
olice officer leaned over the desk to get a better look at the little girl.

  ‘She said all that?’

  ‘Yes. And for her that’s a lot.’

  Looking from face to face, the police officer nodded. ‘OK. I can see this means a lot to you. And that even if it’s a bit … irregular, there’s been no crime committed. Wait here and I’ll go and find out what’s going on.’

  The Shahs watched as the officer disappeared into another room to talk to someone. Adam looked across at his mum, still sitting on the edge of her chair, eyes still blazing. The police officer returned and sat back down. Although he still looked serious, his eyes were gentler, especially when he looked at Farah.

  ‘OK, I’ve had a word and we’ve run some checks. It all seems clear. Please go back to the waiting room and he will be processed and come out there soon.’

  Farah signed to Adam, Are you sure they’ll let him go?

  Nodding, Adam replied. They promised.

  Accompanied by the police officer, William looked dishevelled, confused and surprised to see the three of them waiting for him. Farah was the first to skip to him and hug his leg. Adam came forward to shake his hand and Yasmin gently squeezed his shoulder. William felt such warmth for them then, and joy that they had come for him. But even in that moment, he knew that as much as he didn’t want to, as much as his new heart told him to stay, his old heart told him to leave. They all walked out of the station together, but William was already thinking of ways to be alone.

  Laila watched as Adam set about sketching. They were sitting in the art room at lunchtime and were alone except for Mrs Matheson, who was getting the room ready for the afternoon lesson. It was quiet but for the scratching of Adam’s pencil on the white sheet. They had agreed to meet and do their work together, but she had done nothing – she couldn’t stop herself from watching Adam as he drew. He was fully immersed in the movement of the pencil, his eyes never leaving the page, his focus and intensity burning the graphite onto the white sheet. She noted the way he sat, hunched over, close to the page almost as if he wanted to lean right into whatever he was sketching.