First Response

WANDSWORTH (2.45 p.m.)

‘Sami, I really have to go to the toilet,’ said Zoe. She was jiggling from foot to foot. ‘I’m going to piss myself.’

‘There’s nothing I can do,’ said Malik. ‘Sorry.’

‘You want to be handcuffed to someone who’s wet themselves?’

‘You can pee on the floor.’

‘Then it’ll spread everywhere. Ask them for a bucket or something.’

‘What?’

‘A bucket. I’ll pee in a bucket. And the kids need something to eat and drink.’ She nodded at the changing rooms. The two toddlers had been crying non-stop for the past fifteen minutes and no amount of shouting from Malik had quietened them down. ‘That’s why they’re crying, Malik. Kids cry when they’re hungry. You said they’ve got until six to free the prisoners. That’s more than three hours. Do you want kids crying for the next three hours?’

Malik bit his lower lip. She was right. The crying was doing his head in and it was getting worse. ‘Okay, okay,’ he said. ‘Come on.’ He pulled the chain and they walked slowly towards the shop entrance. ‘Jamie?’ he shouted. ‘Jamie, are you there?’

‘I’m here, Sami,’ shouted the negotiator. He sounded far away, at the other end of the shopping centre, maybe. ‘Do you want me to come over?’

‘No, stay where you are. There’s a girl here who needs to go to the toilet. You have to get me a bucket or something.’

‘Okay, Sami, I can do that.’

‘And there are two kids. They need food. And something to drink.’

‘How old are the kids?’

‘I don’t know. Young.’

‘They’re two and a half!’ shouted the woman in the changing room.

‘Two and a half,’ repeated Malik.

‘I’ll get something fixed up. What about you, Sami? Are you hungry?’

‘No.’

‘I could bring a pizza or something.’

‘I don’t want a fucking pizza!’ shouted Malik.

‘I could eat pizza,’ said the woman in the changing room.

‘We’re not here to eat fucking pizza!’ yelled Malik.

‘It’s almost three o’clock and I haven’t had any lunch.’

Malik groaned. ‘Jamie, send in a pizza as well.’

‘No pineapple,’ shouted the woman. ‘I hate pineapple.’

Malik muttered under his breath. ‘No pineapple on the pizza, Jamie. A bucket. And something for the kids. That’s all.’

‘I’ll get it sorted, Sami,’ shouted the policeman.

‘And I want some fags,’ said the woman in the changing room. ‘I’m gasping.’

‘You can’t smoke in here,’ said Zoe.

‘I need a fucking cigarette, darling,’ said the woman.

‘He’s got explosives strapped to him and you want to light a cigarette?’ Zoe looked at Malik and shook her head in disgust. ‘Some people, huh?’