Free The Black Path by Paul Burston Page A

Helen sees the glowing tip of the cigarette edging towards her. Fear turns to panic and she closes her eyes, tries to pretend this isn’t happening. Suddenly she’s back at the school gates. Girls in purple nylon uniforms are crowding around her as someone empties the contents of her school bag over her head and a packet of tampons falls to the floor. ‘She’s on the rag!’ someone screams. ‘Helen’s on the rag!’ A burning sensation brings her back to the present with a jolt. Her face is on fire. She flinches, puts her hand to her cheek and opens her eyes.
    ‘There you go, luv,’ the woman sneers. ‘That’ll teach you!’
    Helen feels something hot and sticky running down her face. Is she bleeding? She stares at her hand and sees a steaming mess of … something. She feels the contents of her stomach rise up her throat and clasps her hand to her mouth.
    ‘Get away from her, you bitch!’
    No time to adjust her sights as a small woman with gold hoop earrings and a mane of black hair appears from nowhere and throws herself between them. The woman’s body seems to rise up and leave the ground as her hand lashes out and the smoking woman’s cigarette flies through the air.
    ‘I’d do one if I was you!’ she shouts.
    The older woman holds her ground. ‘This is none of your fucking business! This is between me and this stuck-up cunt!’ She jabs a polished red fingernail inches from Helen’s face.
    ‘Yeah, well I’m making it my business. Now, get away from her or I’ll rip your fucking face off!’
    The older woman smirks. ‘I’d like to see you try.’
    ‘No, you wouldn’t!’ The younger woman thrusts her jaw out menacingly. ‘Trust me. You don’t want to mess with me.’
    There’s a moment’s hesitation.
    ‘Leave it, Linda,’ one of the other women says. ‘She’s not worth it.’
    The blonde woman backs down. Turning to her friend, she shrugs. ‘Lucky for her I just had my nails done, or she’d be dead meat!’
    The group clatter off down the street, leaving Helen and her knight in shining armour alone.
    ‘Are you okay?’ the strange woman asks.
    Helen’s whole body shakes.
    ‘Christ, you’re really freaked out, aren’t you?’
    Helen nods, blinking back tears.
    ‘Let’s have a look at your face.’ She produces a tissue and begins wiping Helen’s cheek.
    ‘Am I bleeding?’ Helen asks.
    The woman frowns, then laughs. ‘Bleeding? No, that old cow shoved curry sauce in your face. Your cheek looks a bit red, but that’s all.’
    She continues wiping and, when she’s done, she cups Helen’s face in her hands and stares into her eyes.
    ‘You’re going to be okay,’ she says. ‘Are you pissed? You are pissed, aren’t you. Where do you live? Do you remember where you live?’
    Helen mumbles, ‘Brynmenyn.’
    ‘I’m from Sarn,’ the woman says. ‘So we’re practically neighbours. I’m Siân by the way. And before you say anything, I’ve heard it all before.’
    Helen looks at her blankly.
    ‘Siân from Sarn!’ The woman flashes a grin. ‘Like it’s some bloody big joke! C’mon, there’s a taxi over there. Let’s get you home.’

CHAPTER TEN
    ‘Morning, Corporal!’
    The voice comes from behind a large punch bag. Owen is surprised to find someone else in the gym this early in the morning. Surprised, and a little disappointed. One of the few compensations for the insomnia he’s suffered these past few weeks is spending these early hours alone with his thoughts.
    The fact that the voice belongs to Collins only adds to his irritation. He doesn’t have anything against the lad, but since the run-in with Jackson a few nights ago, he’s been conscious of the tension between them and annoyed at feeling drawn into someone else’s dispute. As much as he dislikes Jackson, Owen resents Collins for putting him in such a difficult position. He warned the lad to stay out of Jackson’s way. If Collins chooses to ignore his advice, that’s his look-out.
    ‘What’s up?’