Over the next hour, Khalil worked from the office to recruit helpers for that night, while Javed dug out and cleaned whatever fluorescent coats he could find. Khalil planned an informal shift pattern and spoke to his wife and eldest son to tell them he would almost certainly be spending the night at the mosque.
While Khalil was arranging food for his troops with Bilal, the mosque’s Cheetham Hill Road caterer of choice, Javed interrupted him. He gestured to the television screen and shouted out to the Imam.
The three of them were standing in front of the TV again, Javed rewinding, and it was then they got the full view of the man with blood on his hands and hatred in his eyes. Talking about Muslims dying, talking about an eye for an eye, about Sharia law, about what is said in the Quran. Talking about helping a young mother carry her buggy up the stairs, while holding his instrument of slaughter.
‘May Allah have mercy on the foolish, have mercy on the misguided’, muttered the Imam. Khalil thought the Imam’s prayers would be better aimed at his own congregation, who, like thousands up and down the country, had to pick up the pieces from this act of stupidity. But the Imam was a man of the world, his worries extending beyond the boundaries of Cheetham Hill.
‘There’s lots of Muslims tweeting now,’ said Javed, leafing again through the columns on his touchscreen. ‘They’re saying this is all wrong. But there are tweets from the EDL too. They’re gathering in Woolwich, tonight.’
Khalil walked to the window and looked out to the empty car park. His Mercedes would soon fade in the dusk. He was here, perhaps where he was always meant to be. This still night, with the first glimpses of summer balm, had the taste of something familiar. An incident which makes an entire nation stop and drop its mouth, the subtle positioning of each player feeling the breeze, a government mishandling the whole thing. Whether it was a matter of hours or days, this mosque could not go unnoticed and would need to be protected for however long it took.
And behind it all there was a man who could never have guessed he would meet his end in such a savage way; there was a family, somewhere, who were about to have their worst fears rubber-stamped. A soldier slain on supposed streets of peace, which were now being watched by everyone.