The Last Taboo Read online

  Contents

  Cover

  About the Book

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Simran

  Simran

  David

  106 Mere Road, Leicester – November 1979

  Simran

  Simran

  David

  Suky Mann and Satnam Gill

  Simran

  Simran

  David

  Simran

  Leicester Market, November 1979

  Simran

  Simran

  David

  Simran

  Simran

  Simran

  David

  David

  Simran

  Simran

  Simran

  Simran

  Leicester Market, November 1979

  Inderjit and Parmjit Gill

  Simran

  David

  Simran

  Simran

  David

  Simran

  David

  Simran

  Raji and Suky Mann

  David

  Suky and Raji Mann

  Tyrone

  David

  Simran

  Simran

  Central Police Station, Leicester – November 1979

  Simran

  Simran

  David

  Simran

  About the Author

  Also by Bali Rai

  Praise

  Copyright

  ABOUT THE BOOK

  ‘Tyrone leaned across the table and gave me a long kiss. When I eventually opened my eyes I saw an Asian couple, middle-aged, on the next table along. You know that phrase – if looks could kill? Well, I was dead.’

  Simran falls for Tyrone the moment she spots him in the crowd. He’s gorgeous. Even better, he fancies her back. But there’s one big problem: Tyrone is black. It’s the last taboo for an Asian girl – and one that others will do anything to enforce…

  I’d like to thank the following people for their hard work and support: Penny Luithlen; Lucy Walker, Annie Eaton and the rest of the RHCB crew; John and Vivian at the Newham Bookshop; Browsers Bookshop in Leicester and everyone else who’s helped along the way.

  And to all the schools, librarians, pupils and teachers who I’ve met in the last five years – thank you.

  SIMRAN

  THE FIRST TIME I noticed Tyrone he was trying to get out of a fight with some lads who went to my school. Tyrone’s school was about half a mile from ours, and the lads from the two schools were always fighting, just like the immature little shits they were. Tyrone was waving his hands in the air, explaining something to a gang of Asian lads who called themselves the Desi Posse. The idiot who thought he ran the gang, Rajinder Mann, was arguing back.

  As I stood watching with my best friend Lisa, I was sure Tyrone would get beaten up. But in the end it all seemed to fade away, all the macho bullshit and the peacock-like posturing. Just like a sudden shower disappears as sunshine breaks through the clouds. The lads were little boys playing at being men, as Lisa described it. All the pushing and name-calling, the anger – all of it seemed fake, like they were just butting heads – or at least that’s what I thought. In the end I watched as Tyrone walked off with a slight swagger, and wondered why I’d never noticed him before. He was gorgeous.

  ‘They’re all freaks,’ Lisa said as we walked back to school.

  ‘Not all of them,’ I replied.

  Lisa shook her head and stood firm in her argument. ‘All of them,’ she repeated.

  ‘But that lad they were arguing with – he doesn’t go to our school, so how do you know he’s a freak?’ I asked.

  ‘Because he has a penis,’ Lisa said, like it was the gospel truth.

  ‘You sound like a nutter yourself,’ I told her.

  She shrugged and told me that she’d rather be a nutter than a stupid macho boy with sexual orientation issues.

  ‘They all want to shag each other,’ she told me. ‘The fighting, that’s all foreplay – they just don’t know it yet.’

  I gave her a funny look but ignored what she said. ‘Wonder what his name was,’ I said.

  ‘Whose name?’

  ‘That lad – the black lad the Desi Posse were pickin’ on …’ I said.

  ‘Tyrone,’ Lisa told me, as she avoided a Year Seven lad who had run into her path. ‘Little shit!’

  ‘How’d you know that?’ I asked, watching her clout the poor kid round the back of the head. He looked at her, swore and ran off.

  ‘Just seen him from around – that’s all,’ she replied, ignoring what had just happened.

  ‘Oh,’ I said, before changing the subject slightly. ‘What do you think they were arguing about?’

  ‘Who cares?’ Lisa said, flatly. ‘With that gang it’s usually something stupid.’

  ‘Yeah – I guess you’re right,’ I said.

  I honestly didn’t give Tyrone any more thought after that. At least not for a few weeks. There were two other schools within a mile radius of ours, which meant that every few weeks there was some kind of fight or run-in. It was a strange thing to do – to put so many teenagers together in such a small area – but thanks to that lack of town planning I didn’t have to wait long for my next glimpse of Tyrone. Although it was in the worst of circumstances …

  It was a Wednesday afternoon and school had just finished. As I made my way out of the grounds with Lisa I noticed that there seemed to be a lot of people just hanging about on the street. And I mean a lot of people. Some of the residents were standing outside their houses too, as though they were expecting trouble. They must have had access to a crystal ball because suddenly a scream went up and then two gangs of lads crashed into each other, like angry waves across a concrete and tarmac sea.

  Lisa pulled me to one side as some of the Desi Posse barged past, one lad pulling out a thick wooden stick and holding it above his head. They waded in and began to throw wild punches and kicks. And in the midst of all the fighting I saw Tyrone, ducking and weaving and throwing punches of his own. I watched him until he disappeared into the mass of bodies.

  ‘Let’s get out of here!’ shouted Lisa, as the other kids began to scatter.

  I stood where I was, frozen to the spot, watching the fighting. It was the biggest fight I had ever seen, with about forty lads from each school going at it. There was something strange about it too, apart from the fact that they were just charging at each other like bulls; something else that I couldn’t quite work out. I turned to Lisa, who looked angry rather than scared.

  ‘We’re gonna get battered for this,’ she said.

  I shrugged. ‘We aren’t doing anything.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ Lisa told me. ‘When the shit hits the fan it’s going to affect us all …’

  ‘They’re all mad,’ I said, watching as a lad from the Desi smashed a bottle into another boy’s head. I flinched and looked away, feeling sick.

  ‘We can’t just stand here,’ said Lisa.

  I told her to wait. ‘We’re surrounded by them,’ I pointed out.

  At first I hadn’t noticed but when I looked round I saw that the fight was spilling over towards us really fast. I flinched as Lisa ducked and a chair leg went flying past her head.

  ‘Shit!’ she shouted, getting angry.

  Then I saw a couple of teachers run out of the main building towards the fight. One of the teachers, Mr Brown, grabbed a couple of boys, scuffling with them, but they were trying to get away, throwing punches and swear words at him in equal measure. His face turned lobster red and he fell to the ground, clutching at his chest. A girl, the nearest one to Mr Brown, screamed and began to sob as the flashing lights and wailing sirens of police cars came nearer, making my head t
hrob. Pupils started to run everywhere as the police officers tried to round them up.

  Lisa gave me a tug. ‘Come on!’ she shouted, pulling me back into the school grounds.

  ‘Let’s take the back exit by the car park,’ I said.

  We ran past more teachers coming the other way and then down into the staff and visitors’ car park. The gate was open and we made our way out into the side street, only to be called back by Mrs Clarke, a maths teacher.

  ‘Girls!’

  We turned to see her standing with a policewoman, her face red.

  ‘Please make your way back into school,’ she insisted.

  ‘But we were goin’ home,’ said Lisa.

  ‘We didn’t see anything,’ I lied.

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ the policewoman said. ‘You still have to come back.’

  Lisa swore before we trudged slowly back into school, the aftermath of the fight all around us. And even then I couldn’t stop thinking about Tyrone, hoping that he was OK – which is a pretty strange thing to do, given the circumstances.

  In the end we didn’t get home until well after seven. Everyone who had seen the fight had to give statements, as rumours flew round about Mr Brown and two or three pupils being killed. They were all wrong, though not by much. It turned out that Mr Brown had been stabbed and was seriously injured. Two lads from our school also had stab wounds, and six from the other school, City, had serious injuries too. And one of the residents, who had tried to stop the fighting, had collapsed from a heart attack.

  My dad, who’d picked me and Lisa up from school, shook his head on the way home.

  ‘This is bad,’ he told us – it was kind of stating the obvious.

  ‘We know,’ I replied. ‘We did see it all.’

  ‘If anyone dies because of the—’ he began, but I cut him off.

  ‘Was David involved?’ I asked.

  My dad shook his head. ‘I rang his mobile,’ he told me. ‘He was bunking off with Dean.’

  I felt relieved. My brother David and his best mate, Dean, weren’t exactly good at staying out of trouble.

  ‘You OK, Lisa?’ my dad asked.

  ‘Yes, Mr Gill – I’m fine,’ she replied.

  ‘And your mum …?’ he asked.

  ‘She’s OK.’

  ‘Well, give her my regards.’

  ‘I will,’ replied Lisa, as my dad pulled up outside her house.

  ‘See you later,’ I told her.

  ‘OK, babes – call me,’ she replied, smiling weakly at me.

  SIMRAN

  THE SCHOOL STAYED closed for nearly a week as the media swooped and reports of a race riot began to appear in the national newspapers. I wondered what they meant about race until I realized that they were right. That was the strange thing that I couldn’t work out when the fighting was going on. All the lads from our school had been Asian; the others had been white or black.

  ‘That’s just stupid media hype,’ Lisa said on the other end of the phone when I read her one of the newspaper stories.

  ‘But it’s true,’ I pointed out. ‘The gang from our school was all Asian …’

  ‘That’s because our school is seventy per cent Asian,’ Lisa told me. ‘I’m in a minority here. And it was the Desi Posse fightin’ – you have to be Asian to be in it.’

  ‘But that makes it racial,’ I said.

  Lisa sighed. ‘Sim, the only way it would be a race riot is if the gangs hated each other over skin colour. They just hate each other period – it’s that macho, school rivalry thing …’

  ‘I’m not so sure …’

  ‘Well, let’s wait and see,’ said Lisa. ‘If there’s more to it, it’ll soon come out.’

  You know when people say things and then you forget about them? And then, months or years later, what they said comes into your mind? That was what would eventually happen with Lisa’s comment.

  ‘So what we gonna do while school is closed?’ I asked her.

  ‘Dunno. We could go into town tomorrow …’

  ‘There’s a film on that I wanna watch,’ I said.

  ‘OK,’ said Lisa. ‘And before that you can help me choose some make-up.’

  ‘Sounds great,’ I replied, smiling.

  It was while I was waiting for Lisa outside a shoe shop that I first spoke to Tyrone. I saw him walking over with a friend. I looked up, hoping he’d notice me, and he did. He smiled and asked if I was the same girl he’d seen on the way to school a few times. I shrugged, secretly relieved that he hadn’t been hurt in the fight I’d witnessed.

  ‘Could be,’ I said, smiling back.

  ‘You go to Hills – down the road from mine …’ he said.

  I nodded, feeling my hand reach up to my left cheek of its own accord and touch the place where I’d had a spot only a few days earlier.

  ‘So, you got a name, sister?’ he asked.

  ‘Simran,’ I told him, dropping my hand and hoping I hadn’t drawn attention to it.

  ‘I’m Tyrone,’ he said, before looking at his friend, ‘and this here is I’m Going.’

  He grinned at me. His friend nodded and said that he was going to check out some new trainers at JD Sports.

  ‘See? I told you he was going …’ he said.

  ‘But why did he leave?’ I asked.

  ‘So that I could chat to you on my own – maybe take you for a coffee,’ he told me.

  ‘I can’t – I’m waiting for a friend …’

  ‘Male or female?’ he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  ‘Female – not that it’s any of your business,’ I replied.

  ‘You got a man?’

  I smiled. ‘That’s very forward,’ I said, teasing him.

  ‘I am very forward, sister,’ he told me. ‘So, you gonna answer or not?’

  ‘Er … put it this way: I’m not looking for a boyfriend.’

  Tyrone smiled at me, his face lighting up. ‘Just one date, sister. That’s all I’m askin’ …’

  I shook my head, trying not to stare at him. He was gorgeous, with his beautiful smile and his deep chocolate-brown skin. But I didn’t want to go out with him.

  ‘Sorry, I’m not looking for a boyfriend,’ I said again.

  ‘Yeah, but—’

  ‘Sorry,’ I repeated.

  ‘You’re harsh, man. Buff, but harsh,’ he told me with another grin, his eyes sparkling like diamonds.

  ‘I’ve gotta go,’ I said, as I spotted Lisa walking towards me.

  ‘OK, but I’ll see you around …’ he replied, like it was bound to happen.

  I turned and walked towards Lisa, trying not to look back but failing miserably, sad cow that I am. I just had to turn round. And when I did, he was still standing in the same place, grinning at me. Stupid boy.

  ‘Who’s that?’ asked Lisa.

  ‘I thought you knew who he was,’ I replied.

  Lisa squinted at him. ‘Oh, him,’ she said. ‘Tyrone … I haven’t got my lenses in today – sorry.’

  ‘Blind girl.’

  Lisa smiled. ‘So what did he want?’ she asked me.

  ‘Not a lot. Just chatting me up …’ I told her.

  ‘He was at that fight, wasn’t he?’ she said.

  ‘Yeah – I told you I saw him, but only very briefly,’ I replied, trying to make it sound like nothing. He was so fit – I didn’t want Lisa to not like him.

  ‘He was still there’ she said. ‘Although he’s kinda cute, isn’t he?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said.

  ‘Simmy’s got a boyfriend!’ teased Lisa, chanting childishly.

  ‘No I haven’t!’ I protested.

  She laughed. ‘Not yet.’

  ‘I’m serious,’ I told her. ‘I’m not sure I can go out with him.’

  ‘Why not?’ she asked me.

  I didn’t know what to say to her. The reason was that Tyrone was black and I wasn’t sure how my family would react. But I didn’t want her to think that I was some kind of racist so I changed the subject – not that Lisa even ca
red.

  ‘I saw some amazing shoes in that shop back there,’ I said.

  Both of Lisa’s eyebrows rose up her forehead. ‘Pray where exactly?’ she said in a stupid voice. ‘And don’t dare hide them from me – shoes, shoes, shoes …’

  I grinned and turned to see if Tyrone was still standing in the same spot, but he’d gone. I thought how gorgeous he was, smiled at what he’d said to me, and then followed Lisa.

  After spending hours walking round the same shops over and over again, we finally caught the bus home. Lisa lived five doors away from me, in a house very similar to my parents’, only ours had four bedrooms, not three, thanks to a box-like extension on the side. It wasn’t posh where we lived but it wasn’t poor either. It was just nice, in that kind of nondescript way that doesn’t actually mean very much at all.

  ‘You coming in?’ I asked Lisa as we got to my house.

  ‘Not today, Simmy. I’ve got a load of stuff to do at home. I’ll see you tomorrow, babes.’

  ‘Bye.’

  I watched her go, wondering how she’d ended up with a figure that was so much better than mine, the lucky cow, before I headed up my drive, searching my bag for keys.

  Jay, my little brother, was watching telly when I went into the living room. ‘Hi, sis,’ he said, not looking up from his programme.

  ‘Hi … where’s Mum?’

  He shrugged. He was wearing blue shorts and a football shirt that was too big for him. ‘Shops, I think. There ain’t no food in.’

  ‘Oh, right. What about David?’

  ‘He’s upstairs with Dean – they’re on the PlayStation.’

  ‘Typical,’ I said to myself.

  ‘They won’t let me play either – and they took my football game,’ moaned Jay.

  ‘Tell Mum when she gets back,’ I told him.

  ‘But …’

  ‘But, but, but …’ I mimicked.

  ‘Shit-breath!’

  ‘Jay! Who taught you to say that?’

  Jay looked at me and grinned. ‘No one – I heard Dad say it.’

  ‘Well, don’t be using it again.’

  ‘Or what, Sim-card?’ he asked, using the stupid nickname he’d made up for me.

  ‘Or I’ll show your mates the photos of you from India – the ones where you’re taking a bath in the river with your little tickle-tackle out.’