Andrew took the bagful of food from the girl, then thanked and paid her. Then he wandered towards the door. Before he got there, though, the blonde girl called after him.
“Are you okay?” she asked him.
Andrew turned back around, wondering what it was about him that caused the girl concern. Was it so obvious he was rattled by something?
“I’m fine,” he assured her. “Just had a run in with a gang of kids. Haven’t quite calmed down about it yet.”
The girl’s face dropped. “You don’t mean Frankie Walker, do you?”
Andrew shrugged. “Don’t know their names.”
“Red beanie hat? Weird twitch?”
Andrew nodded.
The girl shook her head and wore a grim expression. “I’d be careful if I were you. He just got out of a youth offender’s home and he’s been pretty messed up ever since – in fact he was pretty messed up before.”
Andrew huffed. “He’s just a boy. I’m not going to let him intimidate me.”
“Just watch yourself, okay? I mean it; he’s a nasty-piece of work.”
Andrew stood in the doorway and thought about it for a mument. It felt wrong to let a teenage boy worry him. England was a country where everyone had the right to be free, safe, and happy. No one had the right to take those things away from anybody else.
“What’s your name?” Andrew asked the girl behind the counter.
“Charlie.”
“Well, Charlie.” He did his best to smile. “Thanks for the advice, but I think I’ll be just fine. You take care yourself, okay?” He pulled open the exit door and stepped back out into the cold.
The world had gone fully dark now beyond the narrow cones of light from the streetlamps. The well-lit shopping area was like a beacon in a shadowy abyss.
Andrew started his journey home. The warming aroma of hot chips and acrid vinegar made Andrew’s mouth water. Suddenly, he couldn’t wait to get back to his family and eat. It was a greasy, unhealthy dinner, but he could stand to put a few pounds on his slender frame anyway. Bit of junk food never hurt anybody. He picked up speed, hunger encouraging him onwards.
Rounding the final corner before home, Andrew thought about the teenagers again. It was surprising that his mind had briefly managed to turn to other things – it’d been easier once he decided that this ‘Frankie’ was not going to intimidate him – but now his thoughts turned right back. Despite choosing not to be afraid, it was still a relief when it turned out the gang had moved on. The street corner was now free of their presence and the cones of light from the streetlamps illuminated nothing more than the cracked and worn pavement of the road.
Cowards. Didn’t have the balls to stay and go through with their threats.
Andrew was just about to grin when he heard voices. He narrowed and strained his eyes, seeking out bodies in the darkness, but ended up having to use his ears to hone in on the right direction. The noise was coming from several yards ahead, right outside his house.
Andrew spotted the teenagers loitering around a Mercedes parked on the curb – it was his Mercedes. The lad known as ‘Frankie’ was sitting on the softly-contoured bonnet of Andrew’s car, leaning back on his elbows and laughing.
“Cretin!” Andrew almost spat the word as he marched across the street.
Frankie spotted him approaching and waved merrily.
Don’t you wave at me, you insolent little shit.
“How’s it going?” said Frankie. His eyes narrowed beneath the brow of his beanie hat. “You got my fags?”
Andrew rushed over to the group and this time felt none of the shock or anxiety that had plagued him during their earlier encounter. This time Andrew was angry. “No, I haven’t got your goddamn cigarettes!” he yelled. “Now get the hell off my car.”
Frankie did as he was told. He slid off the bright-red bonnet of Andrew’s car, then looked back behind him, admiring the vehicle. “Nice motor, mate. What is it, an SLK, yeah?”