Fair Game Read Free Page B

boy? Do they look as if they care?’ He glared at the teenagers. One of them sneered back at the man but his mother slapped his shoulder and he looked down at the table.
    Taban leaned forward and took the father’s hand in his. ‘Everyone here feels your pain,’ he said. ‘That is why we have the gar , to make things right. That is how we do things. We do not go to the police, we do not use the infidel’s courts. We sort things out within our community. That is the way it has always been and it is the way it always will be. We do not allow the infidel to pass judgement on us. We resolve our own conflicts.’
    The father nodded. ‘I understand,’ he said.
    Taban let go of the man’s hand and sat back. ‘How much do you think would be reasonable by way of compensation?’ he asked Crazy Boy.
    ‘Four thousand pounds is not enough, not considering the injuries,’ Crazy Boy said to the men at the table.
    ‘How much, then?’ said the father of the boys. ‘They have admitted their guilt, they have expressed remorse, what was taken has been returned. We want to put this behind us and move on.’ He toyed with his trilby.
    Taban looked at Sadiiq. ‘What do you think, Sadiiq?’ he asked.
    Sadiiq nodded thoughtfully. ‘The injuries are severe and the attack was unjustified,’ he said. ‘Eight thousand pounds is what should be paid. And when Nadif is well enough to receive visitors, the two boys must go and ask his forgiveness.’ He looked at Nadif’s father. ‘That forgiveness will be granted.’
    The father nodded.
    Taban looked at the parents of the teenagers. ‘So eight thousand pounds from your family, to be paid by the end of the week.’
    ‘Thank you,’ said the father.
    His wife nodded quickly. ‘Thank you so much,’ she said. ‘May God bless you.’
    Taban looked across at Nadif’s father. ‘An apology will be made, and compensation will be paid. The matter will then be closed.’
    Nadif’s father nodded slowly.
    ‘Then our business here is concluded,’ said Taban. ‘Let us all go in peace.’
    The parents hurried out of the café with their teenagers, avoiding eye contact with Nadif’s father.
    Crazy Boy stood up. Nadif’s father looked up at him expectantly and Crazy Boy patted him on the shoulder. ‘I am sorry about what happened to your son,’ he said. ‘Tell him I’ll see him tomorrow.’
    The man nodded and muttered his thanks.
    ‘Is there anything you need?’ asked Crazy Boy.
    The man shook his head, but Crazy Boy pulled a wad of fifty-pound notes from his pocket and peeled off half a dozen. He stuffed them into the man’s hand, then patted him on the back.
    Two Knives already had the café door open for Crazy Boy. He had remained at the door throughout the gar . He was one of Crazy Boy’s foot soldiers, his most loyal. His true name was Gutaala, which meant ‘Leader’, but Two Knives was no leader of men, he was a follower. It was Crazy Boy who had given him his nickname when they were teenagers in Somalia. He hurried down the street after Crazy Boy.
    ‘I don’t understand, a fine is nothing,’ said Two Knives. ‘Why didn’t you really punish them? They put Nadif in hospital and they know he works for you.’
    ‘Because true punishment has no place in the gar ,’ said Crazy Boy. ‘And the money isn’t a fine, it’s compensation.’ He put his arm around Two Knives. ‘You think the old men there would agree to true punishment, to an eye for an eye?’ He shook his head. ‘They believe that the shame that is brought to a family is punishment enough. That and money ends it in their eyes.’ He gripped the back of his friend’s neck and squeezed tightly. ‘But not in mine, brother,’ he said. ‘You will wait for the family to pay the money, and then you will do what has to be done.’
    ‘I don’t understand,’ said Two Knives. ‘The gar decided that the family pays compensation and that is the matter closed.’
    ‘That they did,’ said Crazy Boy. ‘But what