Free Breaking East by Bob Summer Page B

red.
    Then it stopped. Stuart stood square in front of me, legs spread, fists clenched. Calm and solid. ‘Leave her alone.’
    ‘You need to rein her in, mate.’
    ‘And you need to take yourself off, mate.’
    They laughed, ‘Oh do we? Take ourselves orff, eh?’ But the laughter became fainter as they turned and wandered away.
    Well, who’d have thought?
    Stuart knelt next to me. Those huge hands, so gentle, picked the dirt out of my face. ‘Bloody hell, Atty. What have they done to you?’

Chapter 10
    When I woke the skin on my face felt like it had been stretched tight like a drum and every inch of me flamed red hot. And oh sheesh did everywhere ache, deep into the marrow of my bones. I flinched and squawked when I tried to sit up.
    ‘It’s okay, Atty. You’re okay.’ Stuart eased me back into a lying position. ‘You need to rest for a while. Wait there, I’ll get you a drink.’
    My thick tongue and lips wouldn’t work properly and I dribbled the water down my chin. It tasted nasty anyway, like warm rusty iron. ‘Where are we?’
    ‘In a beach hut. I didn’t know where else to go.’
    A torch hung from the ceiling and beamed a weak ring of light onto the dry sand. ‘What time is it?’
    ‘About ten.’
    I needed to check in with Joe. ‘Where’s my phone?’ It hurt to talk and my voice came out nasal. My nose must be broken. I reached up to touch it.
    ‘Don’t.’ Stuart held my hand and pulled it away from my face. ‘Try not to fiddle. I fixed it while you were out cold. Must hurt like hell though.’
    He could say that as many times as he liked. I groped in my pockets and found my phone. No signal, but three voice messages. All from Joe. Then I remembered why I didn’t really want to speak to him. I’d spotted a groomer and chosen not to report him. And now it was too late because the creep had taken Gemma and Stacey and God knows how many others. I flung the phone to one side not having the stomach to listen to what Joe had to say. Not yet.
    Next time I woke, the sun shone shards of light through the cracks in the hut. I tested each limb and pulled a few faces - frowned, smiled and ran my tongue over my teeth. I wrinkled my nose and instantly regretted it when a sharp pain sliced into my brain. But, all in all not too bad, other than the nose, nothing appeared to be broken. I picked up my phone, checked the battery - still plenty - switched it off, and put it in my pocket. Coward.
    I crawled out of the hut and sat in the sunshine. The warmth seeped through my clothes onto my skin, nursing the bruises. Cliffs towered over three sides and only several feet of sand lay smooth and damp between the hut and the sea. A lone swimmer headed from the east, parallel to the shore, in a slow crawl. I recognised Stuart’s sun-striped hair. He arrived opposite the hut and waved. I waved back. It felt like we’d slipped into some weird twilight holiday movie. Maybe I’d died.
    He called from several feet out. ‘Um. Would you like to avert your eyes for a minute or pass me the towel?’ He grinned. ‘I’d hate to embarrass you.’
    I needed a tree or a rock anyhow, so definitely not dead. ‘Give us five.’ I inched away to the bottom of a cliff edge. My knee throbbed - from smashing Carl’s teeth, no doubt. I hoped they’d popped clean out and he’d choked on them. As I ducked behind a suitable rock, I sneaked a peek towards the hut. What they say about the ratio to a man’s hands? All true.
    I lingered long enough to listen to the messages from Joe. As predicted he sounded manic mental. - I’ve had bunches of Reds banging on my caff door looking for you. Do you know how much trouble you’ve caused? Getting into pub brawls, breaking into Approved houses … what were you thinking? I hope Stuart isn’t with you. He’ll be better off on his own. - The last message began with a long silence. When he did speak Joe’s voice sounded thick with disappointment. - Sometimes, Att, it’s better to