London Noir by Cathi Unsworth

Author:Cathi Unsworth
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: ebook
Publisher: akashic books
Published: 2006-09-04T22:00:00+00:00

PART III

Guns on the Roof

LOVE

BY MARTYN WAITES

Dagenham

Love it. Fuckin love it.

No other feelin in the world like it.

Better than sex. Better than anythin.

There we was, right, an there they was. Just before the Dagenham local elections. Outside the community center. Community center, you’re avina laugh. Asylum-seeker central, more like. Somali center.

June, a warm night, if you’re interested.

Anyway, we’d had our meetin, makin our plan for the comin election, mobilizin the locals off the estate, we come outside, an there they was. The Pakis. The anti-Nazis. Shoutin, chantin—Nazi scum, BNP cunts. So we joined in, gave it back with Wogs out an that, Seig heillin all over the place. Pakis in their casual leathers, anti-Nazis in their sloppy uni denims, us lookin sharp in bombers an eighteen-holers. Muscles like taut metal rope under skin-tight T-shirts an jeans, heads hard an shiny. Tattoos: dark ink makin white skin whiter. Just waitin.

Our eyes: burnin with hate.

Their eyes: burnin with hate. Directed at us like laser death beams.

Anticipation like a big hard python coiled in me guts, waitin to get released an spread terror. A big hard-on waitin to come.

Buildin, gettin higher:

Nazi scum BNP cunts

Wogs out seig heil

Buildin, gettin higher—

Then it came. No more verbals, no more posin. Adrenalin pumped right up, bell ringin, red light on. The charge.

The python’s out, the hard-on spurts.

Both sides together, two wallsa sound clashin intaya. A big, sonic tidal wave ready to engulf you in violence, carry you under with fists an boots an sticks.

Engage. An in.

Fists an boots an sticks. I take. I give back double. I twist an thrash. Like swimmin in anger. I come up for air an dive back in again, lungs full. I scream the screams, chant the chants.

Wogs out seig heil

Then I’m not swimmin. Liquid solidifies round me. An I’m part of a huge machine. A muscle an bone an blood machine. A shoutin, chantin cog in a huge hurtin machine. Arms windmillin. Boots kickin. Fueled on violence. Driven by rage.

Lost to it. No me. Just the machine. An I’ve never felt more alive.

Love it. Fuckin love it.

I see their eyes. See the fear an hate an blood in their eyes.

I feed on it.

Hate matches hate. Hate gives as good as hate gets.

Gives better. The machine’s too good for them.

The machine wins. Cogs an clangs an fists an hammers. The machine always wins.

Or would, if the pigs hadn’t arrived.

Up they come, sticks out. Right, lads, you’ve had your fun. Time for us to have a bit. Waitin till both sides had tired, pickin easy targets.

The machine falls apart; I become meself again. I think an feel for meself. I think it’s time to run.

I run.

We all do; laughin an limpin, knowin we’d won.

Knowin our hate was stronger than theirs. Knowin they were thinkin the same thing.

Run. Back where we came from, back to our lives. Ourselves.

Rememberin that moment when we became somethin more.

Cherishin it.

I smiled.

LOVED IT.

D’you wanna name? Call me Jez. I’ve been called worse.

You want me life story? You sound like a copper.

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