LEGEND:
CHAPTER ONE : SPREADING HIS WINGS
CHAPTER TWO : TASTE FOR REALITY
CHAPTER THREE : JOINING THE FIRM
CHAPTER FOUR : PLOWING THE EARTH
CHAPTER FIVE : IDENFYING LOVE
CHAPTER SIX
: THE END GAME?
CHAPTER ONE : SPREADING HIS WINGS
-------------------
Donovan Doolittle raised his
Blue-Black duffel coat hood to get some sort of a reprieve from the cold and
wet sleet of the freezing February evening, while he hurriedly brisk walked
from Ealing Broadway Underground Station to his bedsit on Saint Leonard Road.
The duffel coat was 70% Pure New Wool and 30% Terylene and as advertised; the
wet sleet did not stick onto his coat. He bought the duffel coat from the C
& A Store on Oxford Street when they had a storewide sale last autumn. It was 30% off the usual price and
furthermore much, much cheaper than 100% Pure New Wool coats. Besides, this
duffel coat would have to do, as he could not lay all his eggs in one basket.
The walk to his bedsit was about twelve minutes and he was pleased his duffel
coat kept the chilling cold wind at bay and reasonably warm enough for what the
English winter weather could throw at him. He much preferred the Pure New Wool
overcoats from Bond Street stores, however, he has not reached the threshold
that deserve such status in his short career as yet. Till then, the evergreen
duffel coat must do; it’s fashion had been going strong for a few centuries and
a few more years would do no harm to Donovan Doolittle.
Telly dinner was two ham and eggs
sandwiches with a hot cup soup plus an all must have cup of tea. This would
have to do till his pay packet grew a bit fatter. He was no chef but could cook
or prepare something cheap and fast, thus saving on utility bills also. Donovan
slotted two 25 pence coins into the gas meter machine by the door and the gas
fire was reassuring and warm, glowing blue and red till his bedtime. As he sat
on his sole corduroy threadbare easy chair engrossed on the wildlife
documentary aired by BBC (British Broadcasting Corporation) in his bedsit; the
weather outside trashed and bare branches snapped from the ever-increasing gale
winds. The sight from his second floor only window onto the backyard was not
too pleasant. He often wondered why he decided to work in London, as warm and
comfortable living does exist in the bosom of his parents house in Guildford,
Surrey, where washing, cooking, hoovering and all that household chores are
fully taken care of. After thinking deeply, he does realize that it was about
time he spread his wings on his own and the present situation was just an
inconvenience he needed to overcome, and no use crying over it, but he still
missed his mum and dad and the convenience of home.
Working for The Home Office (HO)
at Apollo House, Whitgift House on Wellesley Road, Croydon, has been acceptable
for him. It was not that demanding, however not a piece of cake either. Donovan
Doolittle applied and was invited to join a Trainee Executives programme; his
was under Mr. Mukajee, his Section Head. A second generation British with ties
from Kenya. The learning curve was interesting but mostly digging history
through volumes of files after files on their computer software. Donovan
wondered what his file would be like. It would be nice to take a peek though,
surely interesting? His days were mostly in front of a computer screen and
preparing a concise report for Mr. Mukajee on the computer also. Today, all are
striving for a paperless society, making the world a better place he supposed.
Mrs. Twaddell, the Clerical Officer, has been there for over twenty years and
her hair was never out of place. As far as he could deduct, she has no grey
hairs, must be her weekly stint under an electric hood of a beauty saloon he
deduced. The five feet two rounded lady was his friend, colleague, mentor at
times and was happy she being there for him. She was married with three
children and very much family orientated. They would laugh at each other jokes
and he has been to her house in Barnes where he would enjoy a dinner or two
there. Donovan would brew her teas and she in return would dish out the tea
biscuits, one or two at a time, but no more.
Mrs. Twaddell would say, “
Duckie, no need to ensure the report is grammatically correct, just do in point
form, short, understandable and be precise. This way, Mr. Mukajee will be able
to make a quick and correct decision. That’s the important thing. ”
“ Thank you Mrs. Twaddell, you
sure are a gem. This way, my reports would not take too long and kinder on my
brain also. ” So said Donovan Doolittle and he was happy, pleased and very much
at home with his crowd.
There were four people in his
section and all got on like a dream. Helping each other was no chore and all
looked out for each other in and outside work. They would also enjoy a drink or
two at the Red Lion; round the corner from the office before turning for home.
Donovan Doolittle was one of two Degree holders that joined the service. He
secured his Bachelor of Arts Degree reading Linguistics and Languages at Sacred
Heart College, Oxford. Since his Oxford days, he spoke and wrote five languages
fluently; namely English, French, Arabic, Mandarin and Burmese. He just loves
languages and fascinated with the cultures different lands have to offer. He
made friends easily and can be at home in any surroundings, in other words,
Donovan Doolittle fits in like hand in glove wherever he was. It’s been more
than a year working with his fellow colleagues and he looked forward to going
to office every working day. The team functions well and he was at peace and
content with the atmosphere.
After the monthly pay packets
were distributed on the last Friday of the month, Donovan Doolittle felt rich
and from that moment on, he’ll be poorer day by day. As he gave serious
thoughts how much he should credit into his debt ridden current account, his
deep mindfulness was shattered rudely by the heavily Indian accent of his boss,
Mr. Mokajee “ Dolittle, step into my office around four in the afternoon,
that’s a good chap. ” After his short burst, he disappeared back into his room;
in his only pin stripped suit badly in need of a replacement, due to the sheen
on both his jacket and trousers. He wondered what it could be, he was sure it
was not a promotion, nor could it be his work, as all his tasks were submitted
timely without any errors. Furthermore, he was never late for work or a lazy
bone; nor his dress code was unbecoming, in the end he said to himself that he
would soon know by afternoon. The team did much brainstorming for him but did
not come up with an answer. A total mystery it seemed.
At four in the afternoon, Donovan
Doolittle knocked on the old oak door of Mr. Mukajee and hoped for the best on
what he would receive.
Mokajee replied from inside, “
Come in ” and when he saw Donovan Doolittle blank and questionable face, he
smiled and said, “ Close the door and sit down. ”
Donovan Doolittle sat down on the
right side of the two wooden chairs in front of Mr. Mokajee’s table and placed
his hands on his thighs, making sure his hands were not on the table. Anxiously
he waited for the news Mr. Mokajee has to dish out and would tackle accordingly.
Mr.Mokajee came straight to the
point. He said, “ I’ve been instructed to inform you that with the beginning of
first working day next month; you Donavan Doolittle is to report to our
associate office in Birmingham. Today being Friday, you should have ample time
to sort your affairs here and report to Mr. McKinney at our office there. As
you well know Birmingham is the second largest city after London in our United
Kingdom with a population with over a million souls there, therefore you will
not feel too lonely. May I suggest you tender your farewells to the section
this afternoon and you may call it a day at the close of business hours. I
don’t know how your landlord will take it, as he would need at least seven days
notice, but I am confident that you shall be able to negotiate this. ”
He continued “ I have no qualms
about your work here and maybe they want you to have a full and varied training
before you manage your own station or section. Please claim all your traveling
and daily expenses at Birmingham and do have a pleasant trip. Even though I do
not know Mr. McKinney, please convey my best and I shall not be writing a
letter or email to him about your progress here as this directive came from
above and no doing of mine. ”
The Indian, or more correctly the
British; shook Donovan Doolittle right hand and wished him all the best and as
a last statement said, “ Do shut the door after you leave. ”
Donavan Doolittle shutting Mr.
Mokajee’s door and could sense that all eyes were upon him. He walked back to
his section and told them about his transfer and thanked all for their support,
especially to Mrs. Twaddell. She said “ Duckie, do call us from Birmingham when
you have settled in and remember we are always here for you. After all, you are
family. ”
All agreed in unison and in
short, one episode of his working life came to an end of a Chapter. That
Friday, he did not join the usual ritual for the group drinks at the Bull’s
Head, but proceeded back to his bedsit to pack his rather few meager belongings.
There was not much to pack; a British Home Store Blue-Black two-piece Wool and
Terylene suit, a dark Blazer, three trousers, two sweaters, five shirts, two
pair of Levis jeans and a few pair of socks and under garments plus three ties.
His wardrobe fitted quaintly into his old Black suitcase with room to spare,
not withstanding his backpack with all his important documents, not that he had
many. After that, me made out a week rent by cheque as he did not want to part
with his cash, which he received freshly a few hours ago. Then Donovan rushed
down to the ground floor and rang the front door bell. As the door opened he
said “ Mrs. Walinski, good evening to you. Here is my rental cheque for next
week and please also treat it as my week’s notice as I’ve been instructed this
afternoon to be transferred to Birmingham and to show up at work by Monday
opening. I am very sorry for such short notice, but everything is out of my
hand. I’ll leave in the morning and please accept my sincere gratitude for
lodging me. ”
Mrs. Walinskyi replied: “ I’m
sorry that you have to leave, you have been a good tenant. I think you have
been with us for more than a year? This is what I will do; should I able to
find a tenant by Monday, I’ll not cash this cheque and tear it up. What do you
say? ”
Donovan replied “ Thank you very
much Mrs. Walinskyi; super, you have done more than your share; I’ll drop my
bedsit keys into your letter box tomorrow morning, if it is alright with you.
May I say my sincere thanks for having me as a lodger. ”
Mrs. Walinskyi said; “ That’s fine Donavan and good luck. ”
CHAPTER TWO : TASTE FOR REALITY
--------------------
That said Donovan Doolittle went
up again to his bedsit on the second floor and finished his packing and
cleaning. He had a long lie in and got up at nine the next morning. By ten
thirty he dropped his bedsit keys into Mrs.Walinskyi letterbox and made his way
to Ealing Broadway Station for a tube ride to Euston British Rail Station. At
Euston Station, Donovan had a hearty brunch at Mickey’s Cafe. The corner shop
was cheap and brunch was under six quids plus the meal was hot. He had bacon,
sausages, egg plus bake beans and two toasts accompanied with a mug of freshly
brewed hot tea, all very nice, and delicious. Since he had the luxury of time,
he bought his second-class ticket and walked slowly to Platform no.4 and waited
for the train to Birmingham. Few minutes before departure, the train pulled in.
At 1223 hours, the train left on time for his 1 hour 22 minutes ride. He found
a cozy and clean warm seat in the eighth carriage on the portside and extended
his shut-eyes before his taxing hunt for a small bedsit there. The carriages
were comfortable with some commuters only, thus it was a nice ride and the
train made good timing and arrived at Birmingham New Street Station at 1345
hours. He then took a quick walk to no.6 Union Passage and checked into
Britannia Hotel, as it was the cheapest according to the Internet. The single
room was warm and airy but his aim was not to lie in, but seek a bedsit near
his work place.
After checking in, Donovan
Doolittle bought a few local dailies, including the Birmingham Mail and combed
through what flats and bedsits were on offer. He did not want to live in a
non-white area for fear of assorted crimes, and at the same time wanted to be
close to his office to save on money and traveling time. He found a first floor
bedsit at no.10 Montague Road, Edgbaston, about 5/10 minutes from the center
and his office. The rent was reasonable, bright, cheerful, modern, warm and
draft free with good transportation connections plus safe, as long as the
valuables were under lock and key.
The cooking facilities were rather rudimentary, but as cooking was not
so high on his wish list, it was not a complaint item. The bedsit over looked
East onto the street, thus the view was not too bad either, acceptable one
might say. The morning sun when available would be most welcomed though.
Donovan smilingly said: “ That’s
fine Mr. Clive, here is my monthly rental cheque to be returned should there be no damages to your property
on my departure, another cheque here for my advance monthly rent and hope it’s
all in order with you. If it’s okay with you, I would like to move in tomorrow
Sunday morning, as need to show up for work first thing Monday morning. ”
“ You seem to be well acquainted
with the terms of rental. From my side, all is in order except to say no pets
and no loud music after eleven at night; there are others to be considered and
as your Landlord, wishing you a pleasant stay. Here are your keys to the
bedsit. ”
He said to himself that he must
place a large chunk of his salary to his debt ridden current account with
National Westminster Bank, otherwise there’ll be a need to have a chat with the
Bank Manager and no end to letters from them. Furthermore, he must change his
Bank address to somewhere convenient for him in Birmingham after all, this city
will be his home for the time being.
Donovan replied “ Thank you Mr.
Clive, I’ll remember that and will keep to the house rules. ”
He took a short bus hop back to
his hotel and pleased with himself that he managed to find a bedsit within one
day. He walked around his bed and breakfast hotel and found a fish and chips
outlet and bought Place & Chips take-away with lots of ketchup plus a large
plastic cup of tea, and made his way back for a ‘Telly meal’ in the privacy of
his room. This was the cheapest hot meal he could find under the circumstances
and he still had two apples he bought at Euston Station that can be desert and supper.
He kept a careful tap of his expenses on his mobile phone so that he could
claim back from his office. Sunday morning he checked out and made his way to
his new bedsit in Edgbaston. Settling in was easy and fast and the room came
with a Television set, which he thought was nice. He thence made for a quick
dash to the neighborhood Tesco Supermarket and bought the bare necessity
cooking wares of a kettle and a small frying pan plus his weekly grocery with
the all necessary milk, bread, margarine and sugar. The common bath/shower and
toilet was to be shared by four tenants was clean and without smell, and at
least the facilities were on the same floor as his bedsit. Convenient he
thought. Sunday was spent as usual getting ready for the week ahead with washing
his undies and drip dry shirts in his washbasin and drying it by the window. It
did not take him long to be broken into and get into the groves of things. A
single man got very little nick knacks to be bothered about.
41 Station Road, Dominion Court,
was an Edwardian building, similar to others all around and thankful that it
was close to Solihull Station. He was there five minutes before nine at the
Public Enquiry Office. The two girls at the reception desk were all smiles and
one enquired, “ Yes Sir, may I help you? ”
“ Yes, I’m Donovan Doolittle from
London office; on transfer to Birmingham and I am report to Mr. McKinney this
morning? ”
Smilingly the receptionist
replied “ One moment please. ” and she was on the phone for a few seconds. Soon
after she revered, “ Ah! Yes. Donovan Doolittle. For today, please wear this
Visitor Badge and fill the personnel data on your computer and by this
afternoon you should have your Identify Card; which you also can use for
securing your entry and exit into this building through those mechanized gates
on your right. Presently, please take the second lift on your left and alight
at the eighth floor. Once out, ask anybody and they will direct you to Mr.
McKinney’s office. Please do not forget to return your Visitor Badge on leaving
the premises. ”
Donovan replied, “ Thank you for
your help and I shall made it a point to return the Visitor Badge at the end of
the day. ”
He tagged his badge in front of
his Blazer and took the lift as directed and got off at the eighth floor.
Donovan was much surprised that the interior of the building was quite modern
with a lot of glass and bright colours. Cheerful to be sure and he walked a few
steps as directed he knocked on the door marked Mr. R. McKinney. A strong voice
from the inside beckoned him in with the words
“ Come in. ”
He extended his right hand and
uttered, “ Good morning, you must be Mr. McKinney. I’m Donovan Doolittle from
London office. ” He did not sit down and remained standing even though the
seats in front of the table looked inviting.
Mr. McKinney smiled and shook
Donovan’s hand and in a jovial voice said
“ Doolittle laddie, sit yourself down. You are punctual, that’s a good
start and I like that. I have here a directive from the organization that you
will be further gaining work experience here. As such, let me do the
introduction to the work we conduct here. This is The Nationalization and
Citizenship Section; NCS for short. We do all the checking and verifying to the
applicants written requests and authenticate their statements. We do it
speedily, intelligently and correctly according to the letter of the law. We
have a team of nine individuals who are very learned, intelligent, excellent
interviewers and deductors, if there is such a word. We have Kapur from Kenya;
Mrs. Majumda, second generation Indian from India, who is also the Section
Chief; P. Mohamed, whose parents graced from Pakistan; Mrs. F. Foo, 3rd
generation Chinese; Tong Yee Wah, from Hong Kong; Mrs. Freeman and Mr. Tony
Wiltshire, whose parents are from Freetown, Jamaica; young George Lee and Vera
Fox are from here, Birmingham, and George Best from Belfast, yes I am afraid
the name is similar to the great Irish footballer. A little United Nations here
I suppose. You Doolittle, complete the ten. You may claim your train fare and
hotel charges through Mrs. Majumda and the team will show you the ropes. I very
much hope you will be at home and be happy here. Now, off with you laddie and
report to Mrs. Majumda. Should there be anything I can be of assistance, do pop
into my office. ”
Donovan Doolittle closed the door
behind him and walked across to the section in front and asked for Mrs.
Majumda. Soon an Indian lady in her fifties, well nourished; approached him and
held out her hand and commented “ I’m Mrs. Majumda, Section Head of NCS. May I
help you? ”
“ Hello, I’m Donovan Doolittle;
the new Executive Trainee from London Office, here in person, at your service
Madam. ”
“ I’ll address you as DD, if it’s
alright; easier, shorter and simpler don’t you think? Since you have seen Mr.
McKinney, you will be aware of what we conduct here. First let me introduce you
to our team and hope you will be able to pick up important pointers. Your
cubicle is between Vera Fox and Mr. Tony Wiltshire and you will be assisting me
in my section. All works will be dished out via your computer by only me, and
your personal code is NCS010 to key in. First, fill your personnel data, go to
F3 and get it completed; then you will then be issued an Identity Card (IC) in
the afternoon by the Personnel Department. Our work consists of interviews and
checking data from the main frame situated at Croydon, London. We find the work
interesting and rewarding and hope you will find the same. After you keyed in your
data, you may make a claim on your traveling and hotel expenses for my
verification and I will submit accordingly to Mr. McKinney. For today, get acquainted with the
section and sit beside me; I will talk you through. ”
Donovan Doolittle cubicle overlooks
the loos entrance for Gents and Ladies; that’s the bad side. On the good side;
the sun will not hurt his eyes. He found the team happy and well united. Vera
Fox was not bad looking, however regretfully not his type, red hair with large
boobs, even though her body was somewhat inviting. Soon days turned to weeks,
and weeks turned to months. His Tuesdays and Thursdays were mostly spent on the
first floor interview desks. His main job was to verify the applications and
learn how interviews were conducted. Some were sad cases, a few were a welcome
freedom, but there were down right fibs in between, trying their luck. All in
all, the work was interesting. Soon he was able to identify something illogical
just by going through the applicant forms prior checking with the main data
bank.
After about six months there,
life was more manageable and he was not spending as much as in London. Donovan
still has a debit balance on his account but the amount was substantially
smaller than in London. His breakfast these days were free tea and biscuits by
the courtesy of the office, lunch was always at canteen in the basement being
the cheapest for hot meals and dinner were sandwiches with tea or if he felt
rich; it was chips take-away with beans and half boiled eggs, a good Telly
dinner. His life was more regular and he started to enjoy his colleagues. At
the end of November, he was informed to report to Mr. McKinney’s office, which
was most unusual.
Donovan Doolittle knocked Mr.
McKinney’s door and it seems he was expecting. The voice from inside shrilled “
Come in lad and grab a chair. ”
As he sat down, Mr. McKinney said
in his usual jovial voice “ Laddie, I’ve been instructed to inform you that
with effect from beginning of next month, you are to report at no.43, next door
to Mr.Baxter; you have been here six months? I have no complaints about your
work. According to the directive, do keep it hush, hush, won’t you? ”
“ Yes. Thank you Sir, Mr.
McKinney. I did over a year in London and have been more than six months here,
now where do they want me? ”
“ Well I suppose the organization
want you have the full picture. Do continue at no.43 and I do not know anything
about Mr. Baxter or about no.43. You shall have to ask him directly when you
see him. Nice having you here; good luck and good-bye. ”
So his stint with the
Nationalization and Citizenship Section came to a close. He enjoyed his time
there and made lots friends. Donovan still did not know his true
designation or position in the
Home Office Service, he joined as a Trainee Executive and did not know what he
was today. The pay was still the
same and he cannot continue to work for that amount of money; it’s high time
they made an increase that he knew for sure.
CHAPTER THREE : JOINING THE FIRM
----------------------
Donovan Doolittle took year-end
leave and went back to Guildford, Surrey, to be with his retired parents for
Christmas and New Year. He has not been back for two years and their line of
communication was only by way of the humble telephone as his parents were not
too familiar with the use of Internet and the ease of computer. Guilford is an
old English Anglo Saxon town about 27 miles South West from the center of
London and today, one can say it is at the tip of Outer London, but he has not
been home. Near yet so far away he supposed. His parents bought a place as that
part of the county was quaint, beautiful and thoroughly English. Besides, the
prices were reasonable and in their view, the right region to retire and watch
the sun goes down by the green countryside and near and convenient enough to
London. Funny thing though, his parents were not purebred Anglo Saxons, but
rather shall we say British.
Mr. Frank Doolittle and Vivian De
Leon got married at Dubai in 1970 where he was attached to U.A.E. (United Arab
Emirates) Army and remained in Dubai till 1975. His father was an Army Major
and his mother was a mixture of English/Karen/Chinese-Burmese; working in the
Hilton Hotel as an Accountant there. She was a beautiful doll, fair in skin,
sharp in looks with a degree from then Rangoon University, thus she was a
creature a man in his right mind could not resist. They were later posted to
Qatar, where they stationed till 1979 and returned to London the same year and
he applied for his resignation of his commission. Mr. Frank Doolittle continued
to work as a Civil Servant with the Foreign and Commonwealth Office in King
Charles Street, Whitehall, till his retirement. Donovan was conceived in 1980
and was born in 1981, a late bloomer to be sure, and proved to be a studious
child, later on, obtaining his Degree in Oxford. Parents were all very proud.
Christmas and New Year being
over, he reported on the next Monday morning, as instructed at no.43 Station
Road. It was similar to no.41; except the reception front desk was dull and
manned by a burly policeman in uniform and unsmiling at that. On approach to
the reception, the policeman enquired, “ Yes Sir? ”
“ My name is Donovan Doolittle
and I’m to report to Mr. Baxter? ”
The policeman barked back, “ One
moment please. ” He viewed his computer screen and telephoned. After a few
seconds he resorted “ Take the lift to fifth floor and ask someone to direct
you to Mr. Baxter’s office; Clear? ”
Doolittle replied, “ Very clear
Officer, thanks, got it! ”
He took the lift and was
perplexed by the warmth and modernized furnishings inside. Even though the
building looked dull from the outside, the interior was contrary, full of
people rushing from one place to another, vibrant and with a sense of purpose.
The dress code was rather assorted to say the least. Some were in suits and
donning a tie, while others were in casual wears and long hair too. Still, he
said to himself that it was not his business. As he got out of the lift, he saw
a young lady about to enter and posed a question, “ Excuse me, can you direct
me to Mr. Baxter’s office? ”
The girl replied, “ Yes, take the
second corridor on your right and walk straight to the end, it’s the second
door on your right from the end with the L. Baxter sign on the door. Alright? ”
“ Fine, thanks ” replied
Doolittle and walked as directed. Soon he found a door labeled with the sign L
Baxter on it. He knocked and a voice bellowed “Come in. ”
As he entered he said “I’m
Donovan Doolittle. I’ve been instructed to report to you. ”
The man across the table replied,
“ Ah… Yes! I’m Len Baxter; Sit down and I’ll explain all the hype and answer
any questions you may have. I’m sure you find it a bit strange to find a black
man in this chair. Yes? ”
Actually he did find it strangely
odd to find a black man in a room to himself, but he rebuffed “ No not really,
The Home Office is a mini-United Nations is it not? I’ve worked in Croydon and
at no.41, here in Birmingham; in the Nationalization and Citizenship Section. I
wish to know at what Department I am at and is not my training over yet? I also noticed that my pay has not
increased till date. ”
The black man in the well-pressed
grey suit smiled; crossed his hands and replied in a good crisp upper-class
English accent “ All very valid questions Doolittle and all will become clear
shortly. First, I’m the Head of Advance Radical Warning or ARW in short. Not
many know of us and we work closely with the Defense Services and Her Majesty
Police Department. We have trained you in Croydon and here in Birmingham and if
you agree, another three months in our offices and further three months with
the SAS Training Center, to learn self defense, small arms, explosives and
communications, etc. etc. and be put to work in a dysfunctional and notorious areas
of Birmingham and other parts of Britain.
Your pay will be increased on the completion of training with the
benefit of special expenses and your mobile phone bills paid also. We the
taxpayers feels you have the right stuff to protect Her Majesty subjects as
necessary and thus your reason being here. Your facial features are somewhat
neither here nor there and we are in the opinion that you will be able to blend
in any atmosphere or crowd. ”
Doolittle shot back, “ You don’t
know me well enough and am I to be a spy or your Secret Agent? ”
Baxter shot back “ Don’t fancy
yourself: you are not of that caliber, you’ll be surprised how much I know
about you, your family and friends plus your likes and dislikes and furthermore
I can tell you a thing or two which you don’t know yourself. Neither do not
patronize yourself. Sorry, you are not that good, or the right kind of breed
and furthermore your rank is too low to even dream of it; I think you may have
watched too many movies. We want to train you to be one of our ARW staff, and
for your information we have blue, black, yellow, brown, white and red souls
who are willing to safeguard Her Majesty subjects against any kind of radical
actions here in Britain and abroad. The question here is, are you good enough
to join these selfless breed of special talented group of people? ”
“ What is my pay like and the
terms? ” Doolittle resorted while he sat across from the black man.
Baxter slowly smiled and said, “
Your pay after training will be doubled with no overtime payments as such and
the hours will be somewhat erratic and at times long depending on the job and
may require to work during weekends too. Bonus and ten working days leave will
be according to current job conditions and as per established Home Office
rulings. Work can be and mostly alone and at times be in a group also.
Promotion depends on your performance with no fix time frame. Please also note
that from henceforth your pay and anything due to you will be credited to your
account at National Westminster Bank. Yes, we know your account number plus all
that to be known. ”
Doolittle snarled and
psychiatrically said “ You are kind and all hearts; I must say. ”
Baxter replied, “ I tell you the
truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Should you be unwilling to
join, you may go back to your old job or leave once and for all. No strings
attached, it’s your choice and this is a free country you know. We can call it
quits, no problem. Are you that special breed of a man? Are we wrong about you?
What say you? Do think carefully before you answer. ”
Doolittle was much surprised by
this black man statements and questions but took a few minutes reflecting it
and replied “ I’ll give it a try.
”
Baxter smiled and resorted, “
Good. For your guidance, I’ve yet to be proven wrong on my work, thus the
reason for sitting where I am. It goes without saying all this is all hush,
hush, and not a word to be leaked to anyone. Nothing to be signed here, your
word is good enough for us. Should you prove us wrong later, I dare not think
of the dire consequences. Now, go report to another black man by the name of
Mr. Reville in the hall on your left, near to the lift. ”
Doolittle got up and left the
room without saying thanking Baxter and wondered whether he committed to a
right decision he has to abide for the rest of his life. He consoled himself by
saying that if others can do it, why not him. As he walked through the
corridors, the staff seems normal enough and thus he has nothing to be worried
about. Once reaching the hall left of the lift, he enquired to a black man
working in his cubicle, who looked to be in his fifties in spectacles and a wee
bit thin, well dressed in a shirt and tie; “ Excuse me, where can I find Mr. Reville? ”
“ You are talking to him. You
must be Donovan Doolittle. May I call you DD, like in NCS; it’s simpler and you
can call me Dave. Your cubicle is at the far end by the wall, but during the
training period, you will mostly work with me. Should you be wondering, this
whole floor is dedicated to ARW and with dozens of Sections, which you will
learn about while you are with me. Dress code wise, good to be properly attired
unless in the field. Then it would be what the surrounding dictates. ”
Doolittle commented “ Everybody I
talk to seems to know all about me, whereas I do not know a thing about them. ”
Dave Reville replied, “ Don’t
worry DD; it’s the learning curve, you’ll soon get used to it. It was the same
for me, so there you are. All started at the same beginning, without exceptions.
”
Donovan Doolittle cannot believe
his eyes that these men and women were willing to lay down their lives, just to
ensure and maintain a British way of life. This he found hard to swallow as he
wondered whether he would be able to follow their footsteps. He thought of
those people who complains from morning till night, and of those protesters
throwing tomatoes and marching at Trafalgar Square. For that laying down your
life; worth doing it? He wondered whether he would ever be in that category. He
does take his hat off to these fellows acting as though it does not concern
them in a bit, and only interested to discharge their duties. He looked around
and noticed that there were young and old, men and women, black, brown, yellow
and white and doing things as though similar to any nine to five job. His
respect for them was undying.
Even though presently he was
clocking in normal office hours, this cannot be said of the work he was doing.
Everyday work was varied while call for intense concentration was the same. At
times, DD felt that he was fully drained at the end of the day, while the rest
seems to be smiling and taking it in their strides. Mostly his duty calls for
to be assistance to Dave and he was cool and steadfast in his discharge of his
work. The chilling part he realized was that all are venerable to be checked
upon 24 hours a day; one will be on camera if ventured out of the house. No
such thing as immunity, to be sure. Most developed cities will be on similar
lines. It scared him.
As time went by, DD became quite
close to Dave and he liked the way work was carried out. Everything had a
system and accordingly carried out and discharged. Dave was rather methodical
with his actions and gave serious thought. Doolittle cannot help but notice that
Dave lived alone in a one bedroom flat, in a quieter part of town, cooking for
himself when necessary; a bit lonely at his age, he thought.
DD gave a passing remark to Dave
“ How’s the family? Are they accepting your lifestyle? ”
Dave replied “ I am married with
four children, but separated as the wife cannot understand the work I do. I
cannot reveal my real job, so I just said I work for the Home Office, which is
not a lie. She wanted to know my Department, office telephone numbers, my
colleagues and what I actually do at work. I just stayed mum and she cannot
accept that. At times my working hours were erratic and worked weekends too and
she wanted to know the nature for that reason, which I rebuffed with a smile.
To cut the long story short; she separated from me, taking all the children,
citing that she cannot share the same roof, where she does not know what her
man does, and worrying for him when he does not come home like other husbands
at the end of the day. I now give a visit to her and the children when I can
and do support them financially within my means. She is a third generation
Jamaican and that’s how life is I suppose. Some colleagues are blessed with
understanding wives who are not too inquisitive and that’s fine, but I was not
that lucky. Bully for them. That’s one of the downside of this job but I love
what I do and don’t want to give it up. ”
DD commented, “ Sorry I asked and
that’s none of my business, but it does give me more insight of the job. ”
Days turned into weeks and then
into months and DD wondered how time flies when doing something one was
interested in. While checking some data on the computer one late afternoon Dave
said, “ You’ve been with us three months DD, and now it’s time for you go to
Brecon Beacon and Elan Valley in Wales and Euston in London. First stop Brecon
Beacon in Wales, take the train on Sunday and present yourself by Monday 0900
hours. All I have to say is enjoy the training and learn all you can, as it may
save your life some day. You will be informed of your next training
establishment timely. Catch up with you on your return. ”
“ Thank you Dave. I shall
remember what all you taught me and I shall make this training memorable. Do I
need to see Baxter? ”
Dave replied “ No need DD, just
be on your way and have a good trip. ”
Donovan Doolittle replied “ Thank
you again Dave and see you soon. ”
Brecon Beacon in Wales was a
wayward secluded wind swept place. It was a most unwelcoming training center.
On arrival, the Army Sergeant showed him his dormitory; there were seven beds
only. However, when DD showed up for breakfast at the canteen, he was surprised
to see four ladies; ages varied from around mid twenties to around forties.
They introduced themselves but did not state which departments they were from and
thus he did the same and no questions asked. The training was separate to SAS
(Special Air Services) and to kick it off, self-defense was on top of the menu.
Being comrades and training together, the month passed quickly and all were
careful not to talk shop and personal matters. One thing was for sure, all
there worked for a government department otherwise they would not have been
there in the first place. Next month they were shipped to Elan Valley, but the
weather was the same there, in short, poor, gloomy and cold. After a month
there, all were marched out to Euston, the final part of the training. They
were not put up in hotels, but in a dormitory in a not so nice part of town,
one for males and a smaller one for females, however all ate together in a make
shift canteen. Even though Saturdays and Sundays were rest days; it was mainly
taken up by washing and ironing of clothes, even though supplied by the
establishment. After the three months were up, no result sheets or positions
were given or announced. The only consolation was all were told that they
completed the training. Afterwards, all made their way to their respective
destinations. DD did not have the chance to telephone his parents nor was he
able to see or call his old crowd at Croydon. Doolittle made his way back to
Birmingham and reported for duty the next morning. He just realized how tired
he was and slept all the way on the train back to Birmingham.
CHAPTER FOUR : PLOWING THE EARTH
---------------------
The reception at no.43 was as
gloomy as ever and manned as usual by a single policeman inside the entrance at
the reception desk, his presence was further diluted by a black wooden door
separating the outside world and the office. No one would have suspected that
there was an office at no.43 as there were no signboards either. Coming and
going do exit at no.43, however, the facade was faceless, dull as the winter
weather. DD made an unexpected
entrance back at the office and exclaimed “ Morning Dave, how are things? ”
Dave Reville looked up from his
computer screen cocooned inside his cubicle and said “ Welcome back DD and
congratulations. ”
DD was perplexed and questioned,
“ What ever for? Did I strike the lottery while I was gone? ”
Dave smilingly said “ For coming
first among the men during the training. ”
DD countered “ How about with the
girls? Do I need to make a presence to Baxter? ”, without giving much more
thought to the training.
Dave replied, “ Overall you came
second and yes, it will be a good idea to pay a call on Baxter. ”
As DD knocked on Baxter’s door, a
voice from inside said, “ Come in. ”
DD walked in, and Baxter
commanded, “ Take a seat Section Executive Donovan Doolittle, and tell me how
you enjoyed the training. You have lost a bit of weight, that’s normal and
nothing to be worried though. ”
DD replied “ An experience to be
sure Sir, Mr. Baxter. ”
Baxter continued, “ Good for you
DD and by the way, believe congratulations are in order. You did raise the
status of our office here. Your salary will be doubled with effect from today
and work wise, you will be well advised by Dave Reville. Good luck DD. ”
Thus their short discussion came
to a termination and DD left Baxter’s office and made his way back to his
mentor, Dave Reville and resorted “ I’m back. ”
Dave Reville smiled and said, “
DD sit yourself. I think it’s time for a short history lesson. We have been
loosing our young Pakistani and black brothers to some international radical
groups, such as the Talibans and some Islamic fundamental groups in Afghanistan,
Iraq and beyond for a number of years. Regret that one of the breeding grounds
is Birmingham; which is also known as Black Midlands and some 80 to 100
misguided young men seems to be pulled in or converted to these movements
yearly or to drugs cartels which are not our concern. That’s a misspent of
youth and wastage of taxpayers money don’t you think? We would like you to
mellow in with the grassroots in their areas and report back to us the names
and addresses of these misguided youths willing to travel abroad so that we
able take appropriate actions. We understand there will be some expenses, which
you can claim back in the usual channel. These are poor areas and money does
not come easily, so please remember that and don’t throw money around to create
a suspicion. I believe you should
go back and work for Nationalization and Citizenship Section, Home Office, on
part-time basis on Mondays and Tuesdays which we will make sure they accept
you, plus is a good safe sensible cover also. These people will check and do
their homework; please know that these chaps are neither stupid nor dump and
very conciseness and smart and thorough too. In short, you go and work for NCS
for two days and the rest be set aside for our work. Should you be in any
trouble, please contact me at office or on my mobile and Baxter’s mobile, no
one else, repeat no one. Do not contact the Police, Defense or any other
departments, as they will not know you or ARW in the least. Go to NCS tomorrow
morning and see Mr. McKinney and set up shop. Check and recheck again
thoroughly before you even think of setting foot in no.43 again. We are fully
aware that this exercise will take time. So be it, we can live with that. You
are a big boy now, so go to work. Anything unclear or not understood or unable
comprehend? ”
DD replied, “ All clear Dave and
I hope I’m up to it and worthy of the task. ”
Dave replied, “ Don’t worry DD,
we all have to start somewhere, you’ll be alright. Baxter is never wrong. ”
DD went back to his cubicle and
sat down to soak it all in. His first task is to go to no.41 the next day and
see Mr. McKinney and be accepted officially as a part-timer. He thought of the
part-time pay, which would be an additional and that put a slight smile on his
face. Back at his bedsit, while having his TV dinner of jam sandwiches and tea,
due forgetfulness to purchase ham, cheese, eggs and packet soups, he thought of
Baxter’s remark that his facial features were nether here nor there. He tried
to recall his pedigree. His grandfather from his father side was the result of
an Irish clerical staff and Lebanese student in Belfast, while his grandmother
on his mother side was the product of an union between a French wine merchant
and a Hong Kong Chinese roulette dealer who met in a Macao casino. His father
is thus half Lebanese and mother is not so pure Burmese or French, thus his
feature is not totally pure Anglo Saxon that is to be sure. He did key in his
personnel data as British in the Race Column. Just to recheck, he viewed his
face in the mirror on top of the washbasin; in conclusion, Baxter was not
wrong.
The next morning, DD paid a call
on Mr. McKinney and set up shop again with Mrs. Majumda, Vera Fox, George Best,
Tony Wilshire and rest of the team. It was a happy reunion and his part-time
employment thus commenced in all sincerity; since it was Thursday, DD made a
slight survey of Castle Vale area. Even though there were lots of local working
class whites there, better known as Brummies, most dare not venture out at
night after eight thirty for fear of their black brothers might mug them or do
something harmful. He did his survey wearing his jeans and an ex-army surplus
Parka, not only the attire was correct for those streets, but it was a warm
overcoat also with fleece inside that was able to be unzipped for warmer
weather. There was freedom in a
way and not attending a nine to five during the weekday was heaven in a way. He
did a lot of leg exercise venturing through housing estates and rows upon rows
of council houses that reminded him to buy a pair of military boots that would
cost cheaper with hard wearing soles. He found that the concentration of
Mosques were in Yardley area and in Small Heath district, not too far from his
bedsit. He walked through Golden-Hillock Road one afternoon near Small Heath
Station and stopped for a bite to eat at a Pakistani eatery, as it was cheap
and warm but with a strong aroma of curries. There were chaps having tea and
coffee and his eyes gave a gaze but soon concentrated on his hot lunch.
Out of the blue, a young
Pakistani with a fluffy beard sat in front of him and enquired “ How’s the
food? You are new in this part of town? ”
DD in his put on Geordie accent
replied, “ My lunch is fine: I like it hot. Yes, I’m new in this part of town,
but I believe I belong here. ”
The Pakistani continued, “ Are
you not afraid that you might be mugged or thieved or stripped of your
belongings? After all, your type does not belong here. ”
DD replied “ I am not afraid, Yes
I’m of this land, I came here to seek a Mosque to attend since I’m a novice and
wishing to be a student of Islam; I’m dismayed by my own religion and seeking
salvation. After all, Islam is the largest religion in the world, so there must
be something there I believe, which I intend to seek and find for myself. I am thinking of attending Jami Mosque
on Coventry Road and attend the Islamic Center there, thus came to check the
congregation timings. ”
It seemed the intruder to his
table liked his answer. He smiled and passed his right hand and said, “
Brother, you are among friends and family here. My mates and I are defenders of the Islam faith
and we do not deter any lost sheep seeking the truth. My name is Ramni Karim,
and the flock by the other table, are of the same faith and my closest of friends.
”
He shook Ramni Karim’s hand and
knew he striked an acquaintance in him and said, “ I’m Donovan Doolittle,
friends call me DD. ” He has made his first contact and knew this is just the
beginning of a long process to gain trust and their confidence.
Ramni continued his inquisition,
“ Where do you live and do you have work? ”
DD answered, “ I live in
Erdington Area and a part-time clerical worker at Public Enquiry Office at
Dominion Court, Station Road, downtown and attend the petrol pumps late nights
near my digs. I aim to roam all Birmingham before I decide to anchor my studies
under any Imams or Islamic teacher or Mullahs. ”
Ramni Karim liked DD approach to
Islam and soon they became friends and he roamed freely in Small Heath area but
he knew that must also seek North Birmingham, Selly Oaks, Northfields, Kings
Norton etc. to get the broader picture.
That evening, he found a
telephone booth in a train station and made an interim report to Dave Reville,
that done, had a long sleep in, tired from the extensive walks he had. His
mobile phone does not contain numbers of Baxter, Dave Reville or any of the
crew at ARW for fear of being reveled and kept it well glued to his head nor
kept any bank statements or cash and debit cards. All incriminating documents
and evidence were stored in a Post Office Safe with a numbers combination in
New Street Station, without the need for a key.
DD may have gained a new friend,
however Ramni Karim did checked him out. He paid a call upon DD, just to
confirm he does live there, and had a cup of tea in the bedsit just to look
things over. Doolittle was sure that Karim may have someone enter his bedsit
while he was out and gave it a once over and made a through check that he was
not the law and is what he claimed to be, thus a Koran was kept beside his
pillow to throw off the sent. After all, Erdington is in close proximity Small
Heath and is not an all white safe area. Donovan Doolittle did roam also around
in the well-known Black country of Boroughs of Wahsall, Dudley, Sandwell,
Sparkhill and the likes, at times together with Ramni and by himself. DD
noticed that his newfound friend Ramni Karim did have acquaintances in those
areas and some authority in a few places too.
According to the demographics of
Birmingham, it was most worrying to the Home Office that the country’s young
black and brown men were leaving in doves for Pakistan to make their way to
Afghanistan and Iraq, sometimes even Syria and Lebanon to fight against their
home and mother countries, the figures were climbing year by year. This drain
was getting so bad the authorities cannot turn a blind eye anymore, while the
increase of their clans were estimated to be 13% in 2006, climbing to 48% in
the year 2026. Birmingham is a draw for working class Indians, Pakistanis,
Africans, Jamaicans, Bangladeshis and the likes. Journeys to Pakistan were
varied, direct by plane, through Europe by overland or even taking jobs as
sailors on cargo ships to the Port of Karachi and to Peshawar and beyond.
DD continue to participate in the
black men community gatherings and activities,
making friends in working class
estates, also attending Mosques on Fridays. DD was accepted as a learner of
Islam, also trying to gain confidence of their young crowd leaders, his neither
here nor there facial features helped. All this while he tried to memorize
young radicals and names of recruiters. His weekly telephone report to Dave
Reville continued and did nothing to discourage the recruitment to maintain his cover. After about five
months doing community services and helping out in Mosques, he was quite
surprised to receive an invitation from his newfound friend.
Ramni Karim one day said “ DD why
don’t you join our family on breaking fast to celebrate Eid-Al-Fidr. This will
give me a chance to introduce you to my family. ”
DD broadly smiled and resorted “
This is truly an honour and I would love to join in your feast plus getting to
know your family. Where do you live? ”
He knew where Ramni lived, but DD
acting dumb posed the question all the same.
Ramni declared, “ No.86 Fernley
Road, between A34 and Percy Road, in Sparkhill. Come round about eight in the
evening. ”
Another milestone for Donovan
Doolittle in his quest.
CHAPTER FIVE : IDENTIFYING LOVE
--------------------
That evening, Donovan Doolittle
had a long bath, combed his hair for once, put on a clean light blue denim long
sleeve shirt, well ironed mind you and wore a well washed Levis jeans, with a
touch of Old Spice after shave on his face. The walk from his bedsit to Sparkhill
was not that far, but the evening summer air was nippy, even without the rain.
Fernley Road rows of houses were the same with any working class houses through
out the city. On closer inspection, their owners tries to have a different
window structures or doors, subject to their affordability. Flowerpots here and
there were missing and regretfully mainly bare, maybe the occupants do not want
to waste time and energy on unnecessary matters. The uncollected black plastic
trash bags outside the houses gates do spoil the abidance of the area, but
there you are, the sad facts of the times, where the council efficiency and
budget needed no further explanation. Fernley Road rows of houses has bricked
low walls and ever present hedge rows were missing, presumed their owners
cannot be bothered with the trimming, but it does create a view of a cold and
hard concrete jungle, not too kind to the eyes to be sure.
When DD arrived at no.86, he
searched for the doorbell, however he could not find it, so he knocked twice on
the wooden door painted black with it’s shining number plates screwed on it and
expecting the unexpected. After a few tense seconds, the door swung open with a
slight squeak and a lady in black Abaya greeted, “ You must be DD, I’m Jahanara Kerim, Rahim’s mother,
welcome to our home. ”
Donovan Doolittle replied “ Yes
I’m DD, and thank you for having me. I presume Rahim is in? ”
Jahanara Kerim replied, “ Rahim
is upstairs dressing and will join us shortly. Do come into our sitting room
and make yourself at home. I’ll introduce to the rest of the family.”
DD noticed that the house was
decorated like any Englishman’s castle with petal coloured design wallpapers
and the sitting room was bright, warm and inviting. Inside was a Pakistani man
in his fifties, graying by the sideburns and a young lady, age about twenty
something: the father sitting on the easy chair and his daughter beside, on the
carpet watching television. Just then Rahim walked in and did the rest of
introductions. “ Dad, this is DD my friend, and she is my younger sister. ”
He shook hands with his friend’s
father and from the corner of his eyes, he spied a beautiful princess dressed
in European attire, but did not dare to gaze too much or talk to her as he knew
not in their culture and not be too appreciative.
Rahim’s dad said with a smile, “
I’m Rahim’s father, Parvez Karim and have been a postman for fourteen years. My
wife Jahanara works at Sainsbury on the main road and my daughter works for a
travel agency in the city. My son, as you know is a soldier of Islam and I’m
very proud that he is so religious, while I am just so, so. I should be doing
more, but as I need to make a living for my family, there you are. Do you also
work DD? ”
DD replied while placing himself
on the settee, “ Yes Sir, I work part-time for The Public Enquiry Office on
Station Road and also at a Petrol Station late nights near my digs, enough to
survive I suppose. Apart from that, I am a novice student of Islam and that’s
how I befriended your son Rahim. ”
Just then, Jahanara Karim came in
and declared, “ While the food are hot, shall we all celebrate Eid-Al-Fidr and
eat? ”
All moved to the dinning room.
The dishes on the table were a banquet fit for a king. Chicken masala curry,
Mulligatawny soup, a few kinds of pickles, Fried Lady Fingers, Aloo Kemar, Beef
Curry and a few more he does even not know. The eating style was buffet and DD
has not seen so much food at one sitting. DD made conversation with Rahim and
his father, but his eyes cannot help but steal a glance to the young beauty
when ever possible. He has not felt like this way before; she surely was
exquisite. She may be Pakistani, but her skin was fair, must have taken from
her mother: features were sharp, thin and slender, hair was dark brown and not
black, legs looked good, boobs were ample and eyes sparkled like diamonds and
skin like butter. He could hear her talking with her mother and the voice was
soft, however sure and firm at the same time. He now understood why Julius
Ceaser and Mark Antony fell for Cleopatra, however she was in a league above
the rest in his opinion. Donovan kept his conversation with Mr. Parvez Karim
and Rahim only, trying to observe the tradition and staying on the right side
of their culture. The food was good and his stomach had no more space for
desert or coffee, he was that full that.
About ten thirty that evening, he
bid his thanks and gratitude to Mr. and Mrs. Karim, and Rahim saw him to the
door. He could not forget the beauty that he just witnessed and for the first
time and DD knew he was in truly in love. Doolittle tried his best not to give
anything away during the course of the evening, as this could be detrimental to
all his endeavors. On the walk back to his bedsit, he had a long discussion
with himself. One side was his work and the other was his feeling for the girl
and an organizational set up he was trying to dismantle. It was a dilemma with
no clear-cut answers to be sure. He saw Rahim the next day at the Mosque and
they discussed everything under the sun except topic of his beautiful sister.
Much thought was given and DD had to get his priority right, he thought of the
9/11 massacre in New York where 2996 people lost their lives, not to mention
U$10 Billion worth of loss to property and transportation and also the 7/7
attacks on the a London Bus plus three Underground lines which left 52 dead and
700 injured. All this has to be stopped, the culprits taken action and the
likely followers be educated and steered back into the legal fold and
fundamental radicals be ceased at the source, making the community more
sustainable to the general environment, and be well blended to the British way
of life. DD said to himself that he would complete his task, come what may and
his love for Rahim’s sister must take a back seat for the time being. It’s been
over six months into his sting operation, and he aims to do a stellar job,
after all, this was his first and needs to prove to the organization and most
of all to himself.
On Monday, time spent at NCS was
rather taxing, so DD took a walk into the shopping center to wind down before
home that evening. He headed for the Bullring Shopping Centre between New
Street and Moor Street Stations. He had nothing to buy but only to stretch his
legs before turning for his digs. Soon he made a left turn into Park Street and
walked into Costa Coffee, as the café looked well lighted, inviting and warm.
He ordered a plain black coffee and searched for a place to sit. There were
quite a few empty tables and seats, but from the corner front of his eye, he
spied a nice looking Middle Eastern looking girl sitting alone by the entrance
of the Ladies. He glanced again, this time with interest and realized that it
was Rahim’s younger sister. She seemed dejected and low and her sad eyes were
on her paper cup of coffee in front.
He approached her table and
muttered “ You must be Rahim’s sister, fancy seeing you here. May I join you? ”
She looked up, smiled and replied
“ Please do. ”
After DD sat down, he noticed
that she was in her office clothes, even though it was after office hours, she
looked fresh and beautiful, the most beautiful creature he has ever seen in his
life. To cheer her up he said, “ It’s not the end of the world. You look rather
down, anything I can help with? ”
She commented: “ I just had a
very hard day at work. I work for Thompson Travel Agency round the corner. I
normally go home straight, but I needed to wind down; it’s been a bad day, thus
the reason for being here. ”
He sat himself down stirring his
coffee with two lumps of sugar and declared, “ Same here, my day was pretty
hectic also, thus my reason to take a walk before I proceeded back. Last time
we met I did not quite catch your name, it will be nice to know whom I am
talking to. ”
With her clear crisp reassuring
voice she said, “ It’s Sabena. Yours, I believe is DD and you work for The
Public Enquiry Office? ”
DD answered, “ Quite right.
Friends call me DD for short. It stands for Donovan Doolittle and I work there
on Mondays and Tuesdays, part-time employment. The pay is not that much but it
does pay my bills and I supplement with being a petrol pump attendant late
nights around where I live. Come here often? ”
Sabena replied, “ Not really,
normally I go straight home taking the train, it’s only a couple short stations.
Changed your religion yet? ”
He smiled and said slowly, “ No,
not yet. I’m a novice student of Islam, still undergoing much soul searching.
If I may say so, you seemed to be a modern girl compared to your parents and
your brother. ”
She replied, “ I’m a second
generation Pakistani. After securing my 5 ‘O’s and 2 ‘A’s at school, I did not
want to go to University as I feel it’s a waste of time and joined the work
force. My views are liberal, you might say outlook of a modern woman and more
akin to the British culture than Pakistani’s. However I’m hanging on to my
birth religion of Muslim, unlike my brother, who is totally immersed in the
religion. ”
DD gasped and said, “ Alleluia,
so you are a freethinking woman and I’m sure your family is not too happy with
your outlook towards life and religion. ”
Sabena voiced out and cut short
the conversation, “ I have articulated enough and should be on my way,
otherwise my parents will be worrying, nice bumping into you DD, bye, bye, and
good night. ”
DD was enjoying the conversation
but had no alternative but to return the compliments, “ Okay, goodnight and
nice talking to you. ”
The next day, Tuesday evening, DD
waited for Sabena outside Thompson Travel Agency on Park Street. It was
drizzling and with a fresh north wind brewing. His Parka was just about warm
and dry enough to provide a slight shelter. About six ten she came out of the
travel agency and saw him sheltering by the news stand doorway next to the
travel agency, commenting “ Strange to see you here, waiting for someone? ”
Doolittle said to himself that
the key to her heart ought to be truthfulness from the onset, if he is to stand
some chance of winning over Sabena. Thus he muttered tremblingly through his
teeth, “ Yes, waiting for you. ”
Sabena took her automatic
umbrella out and sheltered from the drizzle and commented, “ What ever for DD?
”
“ Because I like you; want to be
with you and felt a feeling I never felt before since I first lay my eyes on
Eid-Al-Fidr evening. I just want to be utterly honest with you from the onset
and be truthful with my feelings. Please rest assured that this is not a fling
or flash in the pan. ”
Sabena replied “ I am honoured
and tickled to bits, but you don’t know me nor me about you. ”
DD countered “ True, but that
soon will change and I’ve never been wrong about my feelings, especially this,
trust me. ”
Sabena shared her umbrella with
DD and quickly walked to Moor Street Station. He bought two tickets to Small
Heath Station. The platforms were full of people due to the second rush hour of
the day. They did not get a seat but as it was only two stations, it was no
hassle. At the station she walked straight home and he also made for his
bedsit. Doolittle made it a point to fetch her every working day and took a
ride together to her station. This went on for a few months and he made it a
point to ring Dave weekly and declare to what he knows. One evening, he
telephoned Dave from a deserted booth near his bedsit and filed his report.
“ Dave? ” DD enquired into the
mouthpiece of the pay phone.
“ Hello? DD? ” Dave countered.
“ Yes it’s me. For your
information, the recruitment has been done by a few chaps depending on the area
and all travel and leave Britain officially, as this being their passport for
return. They all leave Britain by various means on pretext of a holiday, work,
visits etc. Mostly they travel in groups of four or five and their end
destination of course is Peshawar, Pakistan. ”
He then submitted their
respective names; some had English and later on some changed to Muslim names.
Depending on the area, Broad Street, Selly Oak, Northfields, Walsall, Dudley,
Sandwell, Small Heath, Alum Rock, Sparkhill, Small Heath etc. recruiters were
individually different. Most were Pakistani, but some were Bangladeshi, Indian,
Jamaicans and even a few English too, the only common factor was they were all
aged between eighteen and twenty-three and all men at that. He further
suggested that these chaps be interned outside Britain working with Interpol,
otherwise every likelihood the recruiters will amend their tactics and tracing
their controllers will be unobtainable. The recruiter names included Rahim
Karim from Sparkhill.
The round ups in Europe due to
his hard work were a success, and as even though the flow of radicals were
still on going, but it did became more intermitted, with no reports in the
media to blanket the home press.
The monthly catchment may be few, but it was a successful ongoing
affair. DD remained on his job not to raise any suspicion and carried on his
routine, spending time at the Mosques and the grassroots meeting centers such
as local clubs and coffee houses.
To prioritize his actions, one
day, he telephoned his parents, on his likelihood of marrying a Pakistani girl
and the green light was given, as they themselves are not cent percent Anglo
Saxon, thus not that unexpected. He felt good after informing his mum and dad
after all, family was family and part one was thus completed.
His weekly telephone calls
continued with Dave and he was pleased with the developments. During one of
those conversations, DD informed him that, “ If everything is going like
clockwork, I like to call it a day and throw in the towel and go back to London
and be a boring soul once again. ”
Dave questioned, “ What is wrong
with you man? More pay? More benefits? Tell me? ”
DD replied, “ Nothing like that,
during the course of my work, I fell in love with a Pakistani girl and I know
it’s wrong, but there you are. ”
Dave countered, “ It happens, we
can live with that, no need to resign. ”
DD laid everything on the table
and said, “ No, you don’t understand; I’ve fallen in love with one of the
recruiter’s sister, his name is Rahim Karim. By the way, she is hundred percent
totally at a loss what her brother is doing. I have not yet asked for her hand,
nor have I secured her parents or brother’s consent. I cannot live with myself
getting the wires mixed up and it is best I leave things to someone better than
me who has better control. ”
Dave pleaded: “ DD, don’t rush
into it, as long as you are honest and don’t get your personal life emotionally
attached with the work, that’s fine by us. Think about it, man. ”
DD sadly reverted; “ Thank you
for your belief in me, however, I don’t have the trust in myself anymore. I now
think its high time for a better person to soldier on. ”
Dave continued “ You and us have
done real effective work and been true servants to Queen and country, a
defender to the public at large. The taxpayers have invested a lot in you, so
DD don’t throw it all away at least you owe this much. ”
DD continued on his unfinished
comment; “ I’ll be submitting a
written report as to my thoughts and my two cents worth why we are facing the
drain of our coloured brothers and likely issues to be addressed. Don’t worry I
will continue to soldier on till you people can find a right replacement. I do
not aim to leave ARW high and dry it is not in my nature, that you can take it
to the Bank. ”
That said and done, DD felt
relieved and his heavy chest felt more lighter: One thing Donovan cannot stand
is to live a life of a lie, now to press on.
CHAPTER SIX : THE END GAME?
------------------
Donovan Doolittle has been seeing
Sabena every working day of the week. He would at times meet her for lunch or
just a simple walk or window shopping during such periods, nothing too drastic,
however takes her back daily by train journey from Moor Street to Small Heath
Station. It was not a chore for him and he hoped and long to spend more time
with her, forever and a day if possible.
It’s been over six months since he first met her in the coffee house and
progressed to holding her hand and stealing a kiss now and then, when given the
opportunity. He also deducted that she was twenty-two and never had a
boyfriend. She was four years younger than him, but she was strong headed and
willing to get what she wanted, he liked that, suppose a modern free wheeling
British girl by all means.
While on the train back one day,
Sabena posed a question to DD “ We are living a life of a lie. Are our lives to
continue just like this, always living in the shadows? ”
One thing has been heavy on
Donovan Doolittle mind and he was waiting for the right moment to pop the
question. Since Sabena questioned about their lives, he felt this would be the
right moment to raise the point. Thus he said “ Sabena, will you marry me and
come with me to London and start life afresh? I am willing to take a job from
nine to five, so that I can spend more time with you. Sorry for popping the
question in such an unromantic setting, but since you commented on life, I
thought it might be the right moment. ”
DD could sense that she
appreciated his question. She smiled and replied “ DD, you should address this
question to my parents and my brother. I may be British through and through,
but it is a Pakistani tradition to address such matters to the parents, as they are in control. ”
“ Yes, you are quite right. I
also have a mind to talk this to your parents, and just waiting for the right
time to address this issue. For your information, I already secured consent
from my family and I am glad to say that they are all for it. That’s the easy
part, after all; both my parents are of mixed blood. Furthermore, I do have a
small secret fund slashed to be utilized in an emergency, and this fund should
see us through till I get a proper job in London. ”
Both of them alighted at Small
Heath Station; it was only a few minutes ride. DD gave a kiss on the lips to
Sabena, and made their own way home turning up his coat collar as the evening
wind was brewing. When Doolittle reached home, he had his usual dinner of
sandwiches and hot cup soup in front of the Television and did not made his way
to the community club, but instead wrote a report in long hand to Dave and
Baxter to avoid any traces to his laptop and email.
The Text read,
This is my personal report, and
my views for your kind perusal.
Our present problem of our
coloured brothers leaving for Pakistan and beyond, may stem from following
factors:
1. Since kindergarten, the
Pakistani, Indian, Bangladeshi and Jamaican children were not warmly encouraged
enough to integrate outside school by both parents of white and coloured. This
may be due to their own fears and insecure experience they sustained through
life.
2. These have a profound affect
on their young minds, which regretfully stuck till adulthood.
3. In their homes too, the
coloured families tends to expose their young minds to their own tradition from
the old country, where they were made to feel more warm, secure and friendly.
This may not be intentionally, however, the adverse affects did rub off on the
children.
4. From then on, the coloured
children tend to mingle in the safety and comfort of their own clans, which
their parents did not discourage: The push to integrate with the white children
were lacking.
5. When they entered secondary
schools, they continued to shelter with their own crowds and the extra efforts
of the teachers could be improved for them to excel. The only subject they tend
to excel was sports, maybe due to only physical efforts were required compared
to other subjects.
6. In this regard, the yellow
race tends to do much better. Maybe they integrate better and their parents are
more aggressive, thus they secure better paying jobs and positions. Some
reports said that they even do better then the whites.
7. Without or low educational
qualifications, majority of coloured people cocooned back into their shells and
found solace in their own kind. Here, they found the common medium, which is
the Muslim religion.
8. Maybe they felt disenchanted
and not really welcomed by the British, thus the need to rebel and making a
statement against their own country.
9. As Islam greeted them with
open arms, should the British white majority did the same, there should be no
problems and lessen their drain and resentment.
10. Girls tend to be more
integrated than boys and mellow into the British system.
11. There will be less wastage,
less misuse of taxpayer funds and last but not least, less loss of unnecessary
lives. There should be more safety for all.
After about two hours of writing,
DD slept with his letter underneath the mattress and the very next morning went
to a post office and posted it there directly. He was always extra careful to
maintain his cover. During his
weekly telephone report to Dave, he asked his comments on his letter.
“ It’s all very valid arguments
DD and much appreciated. The feedback was helpful and I took the liberty of
adding a few more points and kicked it up. Changing of guards should be in
order in about two months, till then, hold on to your horses. ”
“ Thank you Dave, you always are
a help to me. I shall be here until I am relieved. That’s a promise. ”
Later on, for the first time
Donovan Doolittle rang Baxter to his mobile. After much thought, he felt it was
only proper to inform the boss. As far as he was aware, it was Baxter who
recruited him and should be rightly and correctly decommissioned by the same
man. DD made the call from a empty telephone booth inside the Small Hill
Station.
Before he could say hello, the
other side replied “ Baxter here. ”
DD pressed the button and could
hear his coin drop into the machine and spoke into the mouthpiece, “ DD here
and I want to…… ”
He was cut short by the man, “
Thank you for calling DD, if you had not called, I was going to leave word with
Dave that you should give me a tinkle. First, I read your hand written report
and must say it was quite comprehensive. I’ve given much thought on your letter
and also made necessary recommendations to higher up and hope to see some
amendments in the manner they treat our younger coloured population here. Let’s
wait and see in what form it takes. You have done good work and much
appreciated for your feedback, which has been priceless. Hang in there and take
February off to recuperate and go and see Miss. Vivian Ackerly at the British
and Commonwealth Office, Whitehall, London, I believe she is on the sixth floor
and my sources tells me there is an opening at Zurich, Switzerland’s British Council
for an English Teacher. It’s right up your street and two years there with the
lovely breeze from Lake Lucerne should be a nice honeymoon and sojourn. Do tell
her that I told you to call upon her. Suppose congratulations are still a bit
early. Yes? ”
DD spoke, “ Mr. Baxter, I would
like to retire and …. ”
Again he was cut short, “ That’s
still a long way off my good man. Meantime enjoy your Christmas and New Year in
Birmingham and the two years in Switzerland will do you a world of good. Your
next posting will be in London for sure and will be duly advised in advance.
Office hours should be normal with a spot of overtime during some weekends and
some late nights also. I know you’ll be happy and do check your Bank Statement
in February, I’m sure it will be a wonderful surprise. Thank you for your call and see you
again, when I see you, bye. ”
DD has yet to have a decent
two-way conversation with Baxter, it was always him doing the talking and
Donovan was on the listening end. He wondered how the man does it and also
wondered whether he was educated as a Barrister, view much different from the
chaps at the ghettos of Birmingham and London. Baxter’s accent was better than
him with an air of upper lip and that posed a question mark in his books.
Christmas and New Year were spent with his colleagues from Nationalization and
Citizenship Section. Christmas dinner was with Mrs. Majumda’s family, feasting
on chicken curry and rice, the meal maybe Eastern, but the atmosphere was truly
English. New Year was at Mrs. F.Foo’s house, drinking silly with the team
eating noodles and spring rolls, also on the pretext of a pre-Chinese New Year
celebrations, actually, any reasons for getting drunk. Her husband and two
grown up daughters joined in the festive fun. This was one time when he could
let his hair down and have fun without any pretext and fear.
After the festive period, his
thoughts were utterly serious again and he posed a question to Sabena, “ I
would like to ask for hand in marriage to your parents, would you mind? I think
it’s all for the best. ”
Sabena answered, “ What’s got to
done, got to be done. At least we would know black and white and plan our next
move. ”
“ If that is the case, I intend
to come round your place this Sunday afternoon. Will your parents be in? ” DD
queried slowly.
“ In all accounts they should. My
father rest during weekends and sit in front of the Telly, ” answered Sabena.
In all seriousness DD informed
Sabena that, “ I shall not accompany or see you for two weeks after my visit to
your house. This is to give you time to think your next move as it will be life
changing. I already know their answer, but my duty to talk to them face to face
like a proper gentleman. ”
Sabena looked at him in the eye
and replied solemnly, “ It’s all for the best DD, good luck. ”
The couple then parted their own
ways from Small Heath Station. The weather was bitterly cold accompanied by a
sweeping rain, but DD could not feel the weather onslaught with his mind on
overdrive. By hook or crook he must see it through view this would be life
changing for both of them. The sooner the better and get it over with, he
deducted.
Sunday came and to show respect,
he donned on a white shirt with a sober tie. He also wore his Blue-Black Blazer
and Grey trousers with his army surplus Parka to keep the weather at bay, and
made his way to no.86 Fernley Road. This time, the outside scenery nor the
weather had any heed on him and the only thought was what he was going to say
to Mr. Perves Karim. The outcome was certain and it did not look rosy for them
at all. On reaching there around three, he knocked twice on the black wooden
door beneath the number 86 sign. It was opened by his friend Rahim in his
comfortable Blue tracksuit.
Rahim looked at him perplexly and
uttered “ Surprised to see you here. Anything? ”
DD replied in all seriousness “
Yes, I’ve come to talk with your Dad and Mum. May I come in? ”
Rahim commented, “ Then you
better do, take your coat off and Dad is in the sitting room. ”
“ Thanks ” DD replied while taking
off his Parka and slowly walked into the sitting room. He found Pervas Karim
sitting in his easy chair watching Aston Villa playing Chelsea live on
television.
As DD walked in, Rahim’s father
enquired, “ You want to see me? ”
“ Yes I do Sir, I would like to
talk to you. ” replied DD seriously.
Rahim remained standing, while he
asked DD to sit down on the settee. Pervas Karim looked at him with a
questionable face.
Seated on the setee, DD looked
straight in the eyes of Sabena’s father and said slowly but clearly with not a
fear in his voice “ Sir, I would like marry your daughter Sabena. I assure you
that she will be fully loved, cared for and do all that is necessary as her
husband. I shall also work hard, that you can be assured of. I am in the
opinion that I should ask for her hand officially and directly to you in keeping with your
Pakistani culture. ”
Pervas Karim listened carefully
to his words and replied, “ You have followed our tradition, that is to be sure
and I thank you for that. DD, you seemed to be a nice man, but since you are
not Muslim, I cannot give my concurrence. Even though we may be British
citizens today, we must abide by our Pakistani culture and tradition, and
regretfully there are no two ways about it. ”
DD replied, “ Yes, I am a Church
of England, a Protestant by birth, however, I am a free thinker, as I can
choose what ever religion that I wished. I am not asking Sabena to detach from
her faith, above all do you not think love is more important and supersede all?
”
Before Pervas could open his
mouth for an answer, Sabena mother in her Black Abaya walked in and replied, “
I agree with my husband. We are Muslims first and no way can we agree marriage
to a non-believer of our faith. We cannot depart from our tradition, this is
us, we are first and foremost Pakistanis. ”
DD countered, “ I agree with your
arguments if we are in Pakistan. Even there, Imran Khan, a former cricketer and
Politician once married a Jewish girl, unthinkable yet he did it and the whole
country knew about it, what do you say about that? However, this is Britain and
all of you are our Country’s nationals today. You all should embrace the
British culture and abide by the law of the land. Sabena is over eighteen and
her life must also be considered and do you all not feel her happiness is an
important issue also? ”
Just then Sabena ran into the
room crying and sobbed, “ Papa, Mama, I love him too and would like to marry
him. Do you not consider for a fact that he came and asked for my hand like a
true gentleman, respecting our tradition? ”
Rahim butt in and said, “ I don’t
know whether you are a fool to come here or being a proper gentleman. Whatever,
I could make you disappear, cut you into small pieces and scatter your body
parts all over the A38, you heard my father and mother, I suggest you leave at
once, before I throw you out, you infidel scum. ”
DD as a last resort informed
Sabena’s parents that, “ I have got a job offer at Zurich, Switzerland as an
English Teacher and I can vouch that I shall be able to offer her a comfortable
life. I say again, I shall abide and do all that is necessary to build a happy
home and I shall be thankful for your concurrence to let her way also. ”
As DD got up, he also looked at
Sabena squarely in the face and declared, “ I’ve done and said all that I
should and could. Please note I shall be waiting for you on 1st
February at 1300 hours at New Street Station for our trip to London. I shall
wait for you beside the ticket counters. Please join me and I promise you to be
a good husband. This I declare in front of your family.”
That said, Donovan Doolittle
picked up his Parka and left no.86 Fernley Road. He did not look back and aim
to keep his word. He knew all this would shape his life and foreseeable future.
He knew that with his qualifications, jobs would be not too difficult, should
he not consider to be an English Teacher in Switzerland, tempting thought all
the same though.
The next day, Sabena applied for
a week off and latter on put up her resignation also, forfeiting her two weeks
pay at the Thompson Travel Agency, not that it mattered.
At home, she did her part to
convince her father. She told him, “ Papa, DD is a good man and I also love him
and want to marry him. I shall be keeping my faith and all I begging you is for
your kind concurrence. ”
Her father replied, “ Dear
Sabena, my child, I may be a British citizen today, but a Pakistani and Muslim
first. If you marry DD, how can I show my face at the Mosque and around our
people? I love you dearly my daughter but please also understand my
predicament. We all live in our Muslim community and society, I cannot let them
turn their backs on me. I shall not discuss about this matter any more. As far
as I am concerned, the subject is closed and buried. ”
Sabena continued to cry and sob.
She declined to eat and spent most of her time in womb of her room, in bed.
While the pop singers looked on from her walls in their sparkling and colourful
clothes and the guys and dolls stared at her from the CD (Compact Discs) covers
on the carpet, all she thought was only about DD. Sabena does not want to hurt
her family, at the same time understand DD and wanted to secure her needs also.
She knows he loves her and she loves him too, but she did not know how to
defuse the impasse situation. That was all.
While Pervas was on his rounds as
a postman and Rahim out of the house, at the end of January afternoon, during a
cold, wet and dull day, her mother Jahanara Karim knocked on her daughter’s
door and found Sabena sobbing on her bed, outside her blankets. She sat beside
her and muttered, “ As far as I can remember, you have been a head strong girl,
maybe you got that from me. You also did not agree to wearing a Hijab
(headscarf) while at school and forfeited wearing our (Jilbab) traditional
clothes. Food wise, you also preferred fish and chips to curries. A very
difficult girl I must say on the whole. One thing is for sure, we are British
citizens today and you are the only one in our family who embraced the British
way of life, it must be my fault letting you have your way. You are a grown
woman now and already way passed the age of consent, as such, go and follow
your heart, but I pray you keep and maintain your faith. Now come and eat and
stop crying, as it pains me dearly too. Go and meet DD tomorrow at New Street
Station. I will deal with your father and brother, not to worry, however, just
keep it between you and me. ”
On Donovan Doolittle part, he
hoped Sabena would join him, there was nothing more he wanted except to share
the rest of his life with Sabena. He will take the trip to London, but intend
to journey on to Guildford, Surrey, and spend two weeks with his parents. After
all, it’s been sometime since he last spent quality time with them, hopefully
his wife to be by his side too, and later on, carry on his life with his wife
Sabena in bliss, if at all possible. A magistrate marriage at the Town Hall
would do justice and acceptable to both families was in this mind.
The impasse continues for Donovan
Doolittle and also for Sabena Karim, but life goes on, and as a fighter,
soldiering on was his motto. Nothing less would suffice for him.
