‘So your family know you’re called Bob by some people?’
‘Yeah, yeah, they know.’
‘Your dad knows you’re called Bob?’
It was a good move, Morrow had to give it to him, a good build to the point and a good crash. Omar frowned at the table.
‘What do you suppose your dad’s thinking now? They came looking for you and you didn’t own up so they took him. What do you think he’s thinking now?’
Tearful, Omar shrugged.
Bannerman leaned in, spoke softly: ‘Do you get on with your dad?’
Omar’s voice was soft, childlike. ‘Not… great. Better recently.’
‘Better recently?’
He shrugged again, a small gesture, shameful. ‘Been trying harder.’
‘Why?’ asked Morrow.
He sucked his teeth, looked as if he was thinking about telling a lie, looked at Bannerman and Morrow in turn. ‘He’s loaning me the capital to start a business. The condition is that I abide by his rules.’
‘Capital for a business?’
‘Yeah.’ He seemed quite happy to talk about it but Bannerman brushed it aside for the moment.
You lied to us and said ‘Rob’ so that it didn’t look as if it was about you?’
Omar nodded at the table.
‘But it was about you.’
‘No, no, no, it wasn’t anything to do with me-’
‘They came looking for you. Gunmen were after you and you just stood back and let them take your dad.’
The force of indignation brought him to his feet. ‘No!’ but his lawyer slid her hand over the table again, a flat hand that commanded him to sit back down. She had coached him well because he did.
Bannerman opened his mouth to speak but Omar burst in: ‘As I told you last night I was sitting in that car and ran in when the gun went off. I was stunned. My wee sister was shot up! There was blood every fucking where, I could hardly hear what they were saying but if you see guys wi’ guns and there’s blood everywhere, you know whatever they ask you to do isn’t going to be good, is it? You can’t hardly hear what anyone’s saying in a situation like that either, I didn’t think they’d grab him.’
‘OK,’ said Bannerman, sounding reasonable. ‘Fair enough.’
‘You wouldn’t put your hand up to it. S’counter intuitive.’
‘OK.’ Bannerman looked at his notes and Morrow caught his eye, asking permission. He blinked a yes.
She spoke softly. ‘Why were you and Mo sitting outside in the car?’
He sucked a hiss through his teeth, thinking about the consequences. ‘OK: Nugget’s well religious-’
‘Nugget?’
‘My da.’ He scowled at her. ‘His name in the family. Nugget.’
‘How come?’
‘It’s what Aleesha calls him – Naggy Uganda Guts.’
Morrow smiled. ‘She’s got quite a strong character, Aleesha?’
Omar nodded admiringly. ‘If that’s what you call it.’
‘What would you call it?’
‘Mental. Scared of none of them. Told Meeshra to fuck off and shut up when she was in labour.’
‘Someone told us you expected her to run away when she turned sixteen.’
‘I’m amazed she hasn’t. They treat her like shit.’
‘Your mum treats her like shit?’
‘Nah, Mum admires her. I think she wishes she was her. They sent us to private school and sent her to a comprehensive, did you know that?’
‘Did they run out of money?’
‘No. Girls don’t need an education, according to him. What is this, the 1850s?’
‘You don’t agree with that?’
‘She reads all my books on her own, my uni text books. Didn’t go in for the last three months of school and still got top grades in her GCSEs. School don’t want her to leave. She’s upping the entire year’s average.’
‘Has she got a boyfriend, friends who could have done this?’
‘No.’ He was certain. ‘Stays in her room working, reading mostly, only comes out to watch telly when no one else is around.’
‘Doesn’t go to Mosque?’
‘She’s an atheist.’ He was so impressed by her he could only whisper it.
‘But she doesn’t get on with your dad?’
‘Naggy Uganda Guts.’
‘Is he a nag?’
‘Non-stop. Calls from the shop, on the hour, to find out what we’re doing and tell us to stop it and do something else.’ Omar didn’t sound bitter but fond, wistful, as if he was missing it.
‘So he’s very religious?’
‘Um, yeah, he is now. Never used to be much, sent us to Catholic school and that, but Billal got big into religion and Nugget sort of started going mad for it as well. I think, well…’
‘Well what?’
He shrugged. ‘Getting older, eh? Sort of feel your family move away from you. Religion’s something to have in common. Now I have to go along with it, condition of getting help wi’ my business.’
Whenever he mentioned the business she could feel Bannerman thrill next to her. It was to be his finale with Omar but the fact that Omar kept bringing it up was as significant to Morrow as the silly numbers in the income columns. It meant the business was a nothing. Something to talk about.
‘Why did Billal get religious?’
‘Dunno.’ Omar avoided her eye. ‘Just did.’
‘When?’
‘Couple of years ago.’
‘Nothing to do with 9/11 or anything, the backlash to that?’
‘Nah.’ Omar was sure. ‘Long after that. To be honest I’ve taken less religious abuse since 9/11, but, I suppose, I’m not making my way to school everyday in a green and gold uniform anymore.’
Green and gold, Catholic colours. The school would be just as well sending the kids home with a ‘kick me’ sign on their backs.
Morrow smiled. ‘Did you take abuse for that?’
‘Fuck aye, non-stop. Boys on the train used to chuck lit matches at us.’
‘So, a couple of years ago Billal got religion and then your dad got into it?’
‘Yeah and he’s mad for it. Thinks it’ll bring us together as a family but, well…’ And suddenly here before them was the terrified son, bent, tremble-chinned, afraid for his daddy and horrified by his part in all of it. His spine bent slowly until his nose was an inch from the tabletop, hiding his face in his hands. He clutched the hair on his crown, holding his head off the table as he choked out spluttering tears.
Bannerman adjusted his collar. The lawyer fingered her notes. Only Morrow watched the boy as his back heaved and he managed to draw in a breath. He couldn’t look at any of them. His hands swiped the wet away, first right, then left. The lawyer held out a tissue between two fingers, not looking at him. Her manner told him to stop it, stop embarrassing all of them by bringing this turmoil into their work.
Omar took the hankie. ‘I’m not that… You know… committed. I was outside in the car when the gunmen… because me and Mo left Ramadan prayers early. I knew if I went in to the house early Nugget’d be mad… I was just waiting… till it was the right time, so he’d think…’
Morrow asked, ‘Was Billal converted by someone?’
‘No, no.’
‘Just spontaneously got very religious?’
‘Uh huh.’ Omar wouldn’t look at her, swallowed as if he was trying to stop himself saying something and brought it back to himself: ‘I’m not that committed.’
Bannerman took a breath as if he was going to speak but Morrow cut him off – ‘Your dad wanted you to be a lawyer?’
Omar looked surprised, but it was hardly a difficult deduction. ‘Aye, he does.’
‘But you never even went for interviews?’
‘Nah. Not for me.’
‘We met Tormod MacLeòid.’ Morrow raised an eyebrow.
‘Yeah, you might understand what put me off then.’
‘So, you’ll defy your dad on that issue, but not on the matter of religion?’
‘Well, different thing, eh?’
‘How?’