Free The New Neighbours by Costeloe Diney

against the railings at her back. Emboldened by their leader, the pack began to torment her.
    â€œAll right, darlin’?”
    â€œWant to feel my cock, do yer?”
    â€œNeeds a mouthful of cock, eh Denzer?”
    â€œNice tits!” The one addressed as Denzer made a grab at Annabel’s breast: “Give us a feel, then.”
    Again she jerked away, shouting, “Go away! Leave me alone! Get lost!” But she was surrounded. Her bag caught on the railings and ripped so that some of her work fell out. With a whoop of delight, Martin pounced on it.
    â€What a good little worker,” he crowed, tossing files and papers in the air. “Mummy’s good girl. Ain’t you got no time for fun, darlin’? We could show you a good time.” He grabbed at her again pulling her blouse out of her skirt.
    Annabel did her best to fight him off, kicking out and screaming abuse at him, but the street was empty and her tormentors, discarding her bag and its contents, moved in on her—in a pack.
    Suddenly she was not alone. Someone erupted from an old Bedford van parked across the street. Another guy, a little older and very much bigger than any of the pack tormenting Annabel, charged across the road, and picking up Martin Collins as if he were a doll, tossed him against the railings. He crumpled into a heap and lay still. The result was a moment of frozen astonishment and then the pack began to back warily away.
    â€œPick it all up!” the newcomer bellowed, and to Annabel’s amazement the Pack, the Crosshills Pack, of whom all the younger children and the Belcaster High girls were terrified, had scurried into the gutter and over the fence into the park retrieving folders and sheets of paper and text books, and had stacked them neatly on the pavement in front of her. Scott stood in a silence more terrible than his explosive wrath until they had finished, then he prodded the still crumpled form of the red-headed leader and said, “Take him with you and bugger off. And remember if I see one of you fuckers within a mile of this woman again, you’ll lose your balls. Right? Now, fuck off!”
    There were murmurs of, “Yeah, Scott. OK man. Didn’t know she was one of yours,” as they dragged their leader to his feet and shuffled off down the road.
    Annabel, still bemused at the speed and the weirdness of the whole incident, watched them disappear round the corner, and then turned back to her rescuer. She saw Scott Manders and fell in love.
    â€œThey won’t come near you no more,” he said. “’Ere, pack up your stuff and I’ll take you ’ome.”
    Still in a daze, Annabel shoved the pile of books back into her ripped duffel bag, and at a nod from Scott climbed into the passenger seat of the Bedford. He drove to the entrance of Dartmouth Circle without saying anything else, and when he pulled up outside her house, Annabel stared at him.
    â€œHow did you know where I live?” she asked.
    â€œSeen you around,” Scott replied. “What’s your name?”
    â€œAnnabel,” whispered Annabel. “Annabel Haven.”
    â€œSee you around then, Bel,” he said, and reaching across her he opened the passenger door.
    For one wild moment Annabel thought he was going to kiss her; his face was so close she could feel his breath on her cheek, but he simply pulled the strap that served as a handle and the door swung open. For a moment more, Annabel sat unmoving, then she slid out on to the pavement, reaching back for her bag, and closed the door behind her. She looked back at Scott through the open window.
    He grinned at her. “See you little girl,” he said, and she heard a voice quite unlike her own say, “See you, Scott.” He nodded as if in confirmation, and then letting in the clutch, he pulled away, round the Circle and out on to the main road.
    Annabel stood staring, long after the van had disappeared. It was