Дэвид Муди - Hater

‘Carry on,’ grumbles Harry. He makes it sound as if watching the match will stop him talking or prevent him from doing something more important. Truth is he likes football as much as I do. I switch on the TV and the room is suddenly filled with noise. I swear he’s going deaf. The volume’s almost at maximum. I turn it down and I’m about to change channels when I stop.

‘Bloody hell,’ I say under my breath.

‘What’s the matter?’ asks Liz.

‘Have you seen this?’

I point at the screen. It’s the same news channel I was watching last night. It’s the same story too. The violence I’d seen reported appears to have continued to spread. It looks like a wave of trouble has washed right across our town. Although it looks quieter now the screen shows pictures of damaged buildings and rubbish-filled streets.

‘I saw this earlier,’ Harry says. ‘It’s a bloody disgrace if you ask me.’

‘What’s happened?’ asks Liz.

‘Haven’t you seen any news yet today?’

‘You know what it’s like in our house, Dad,’ she replies as she shuffles around to get a better view of the screen. ‘We’re last on the list when it comes to choosing what we watch on TV.’

‘You want to start putting your foot down,’ he moans, looking directly at me, trying to get me to bite. ‘Show them you’re in charge. You should never let children rule the roost like that.’

I ignore him and answer Liz.

‘There was some trouble last night,’ I explain. ‘I saw it before I went to bed. There were a few incidents around town which got out of control.’

‘What do you mean, got out of control?’

‘You know what it’s like in town on a Saturday. If there’s a night when things will kick off it will always be Saturday. The streets are filled with idiots who are pissed-up and off their faces on drugs. The police can’t cope with them as it is. Apparently it all started with a fight in a bar that got out of hand. More and more people got involved and it turned into a riot.’

‘Grandpa, we saw a fight yesterday,’ Ellis says innocently, looking up from her colouring book. Harry looks at Liz who nods her head.

‘It was horrible, Dad,’ she explains. ‘We took Ed to a party at the Kings Head. It was full of football fans. We were having a meal and two of them started fighting.’ She stops speaking and checks that the children aren’t listening. ‘One of them had a knife,’ she says, her voice a little lower.

Harry shakes his head.

‘It’s a sad state of affairs, it really is,’ he sighs. ‘It’s almost as if people go out looking for trouble these days.

The room falls quiet momentarily.

‘Hang on,’ Lizzie says suddenly, ‘did you say this trouble happened here?’

‘Yes,’ I answer, nodding my head, ‘why?’

‘Because this is talking about somewhere else,’ she says, nodding towards the TV. She’s right. This report is coming from another place further north, and now they’ve cut to a third reporter on the east coast.

‘It’s mob violence,’ Harry chunters. ‘It spreads. People see something on TV and it makes them want to go out and do the same.’

He might be right but I doubt it very much. This doesn’t make sense. I can’t imagine that these people are all fighting just for the sake of it. There must be a reason.

‘There must be more to it than that,’ I say. ‘For Christ’s sake, Harry, do you really believe these people were just sat watching the trouble on TV one minute and then were out on the streets fighting the next? These riots are hundreds of miles apart. There must be more to it.’

For once he doesn’t answer.

Another twenty minutes and the children have reached and exceeded their boredom threshold. They’ve started playing up and it’s time to leave. I try to hide my relief as I bundle them into the back of the car. They bicker and fight constantly and I wonder if they’re as wound up about Monday morning as I am. I hate Sunday evenings. All that’s left now is the rush to get everything ready for school and work tomorrow.

This is the worst part of the weekend. Nothing to look forward to now except Monday.

9

We’re still half a mile from home and I don’t know what the hell is going on. The traffic has suddenly slowed. It’s backed-up as far as I can see both ahead of us and behind and we’re hardly moving. It’s Sunday evening, for Christ’s sake. The roads should be empty. It’s already getting dark. I don’t want to spend the whole night sat here.

I can hear sirens. I look into the rear view mirror and I can see a mass of flashing blue lights coming up on us at speed. A convoy of police cars and fire engines are approaching from behind and there are more flashing lights coming the other way too. The drivers of the cars around us shuffle to the side and mount the pavement to get out of the way. I do the same.

‘Wonder what’s happened,’ Liz mumbles as we bump up onto the grass verge.

‘Don’t know,’ I answer. There’s a noise from the back seat and I look around to see Ed and Ellis fighting with each other across Josh who’s trapped in his baby seat. ‘Cut it out,’ I snap angrily. They stop when I tell them but I know they’ll start again the second I look away.

The emergency vehicles rumble past us and I crane my neck to watch where they go. They take a left-hand turn a couple of hundred yards ahead. In the semi-darkness I can see the blinking blue lights through the gaps between buildings and the branches of trees. They’ve stopped not far from here.

‘Looks serious, doesn’t it?’ Lizzie says, keeping her voice quiet so the children don’t hear.

The traffic is at a complete standstill now and it looks like people have turned off their engines. Some are starting to get out of their cars. I can’t stand sitting behind the wheel if I’m not going anywhere. I decide to go and have a look too. I’ll try and see how long we’re likely to be stuck here.

‘Back in a second,’ I say as I switch off the engine and undo my seatbelt.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Just going to see what’s happening,’ I answer quickly.

‘Can I come?’ Ed asks. I turn to face him as I climb out of the car.

‘No, you wait here. I’ll only be a minute.’

He slouches back in his seat and scowls.

Lizzie’s not happy being left with the kids but I go anyway. I follow a group of three people from the car in front of us around the corner. There’s a large crowd gathering in the next street. As I get closer I can see that a dark blue estate car has lost control and mounted the pavement. It’s hit a street lamp which has fallen onto the front drive of a house and destroyed a caravan which was parked there. The police are trying to cordon off the scene. They’re pushing people back but I manage to keep moving forward until I’m right at the front of the crowd. The car’s a total write-off. Its bonnet is smashed and crumpled and the driver is slumped against the steering wheel. He’s not moving. The fire brigade are setting up their cutting equipment to get him out but no-one’s rushing. Looks like they’re already too late.

There are two paramedics and a police officer crouching down at the front of the car. Has someone else been injured too? One of the green-suited medical officers gets up to fetch something. Bloody hell, there’s a body under the car. I can’t see much, just a twisted, broken leg sticking out from under what’s left of the bonnet at an awkward angle. Poor sod. Whoever it was they didn’t stand a chance.

I stand and stare at the crash scene until the police decide to widen their cordon again and I’m pushed further back. I realise I’ve left Lizzie on her own for too long and I quickly turn and start to walk back towards the car. I stumble into a man walking his dog when he stops suddenly as the dog veers off to the left towards the hedge.