Free Gypsy Girl by Kathryn James

ear. “Stay away from him or you’re going to be in even more trouble.”
    I wanted to kick my foot back at his shin and drag my heel down it. That would have made him let me go.
    “Don’t you listen?” I said. “I was helping him, that’s all!”
    The policeman looked up. “Save it for later. For now, just keep out of the way.” He was trying to keep Gregory still.
    “I don’t need an ambulance,” he was insisting. He’d got himself up onto his elbow, and he was looking at me.
    I forced a smile. “It’s OK. You’ve got to get checked out,” I told him. “You hit your head.” I wanted to crouch by him and hold his hand, but I couldn’t.
    There was a crowd gathering at the entrance to the car park, both customers and staff. They kept creeping nearer, trying to find out what was happening. Until they heard the sirens. The ambulance must’ve been near by because it had taken only a few minutes for it to make its way here. The crowd moved back as its flashing blue lights reflected in the windows of the hotel and it came slowly towards us, manoeuvring between the lorries and the wheelie bins.
    A couple of paramedics jumped out and rushed over to Gregory. They started by asking him if he knew what day it was and his name. They held a wad of bandage to his head wound and checked out his ribs, before trying to move him. Now that help was here and he could see that Gregory wasn’t stabbed or bleeding to death, the policeman turned his attention to me. He signalled for the chef to let go of me. But only so that he could grab hold of my arm and pull me to one side.
    “OK. Tell me what happened?”
    “It was a boy called Milo Scarret. I had an argument with him yesterday. He followed me here today.”
    He frowned. “So if he was after you, why did he beat up this lad?”
    Why couldn’t he understand? “To get at me. To make me and my family move. He was too scared to fight me again.”
    I could tell by his face that he didn’t believe me. No way would he think that Milo was scared of a girl. But I didn’t care right now. I couldn’t stop watching the paramedics as they checked Gregory over.
    “So you know Gregory? He’s a friend?”
    “No. Yes.”
He’d come out to check if I was OK. He’d done that, and now look at him
.
    “Make up your mind.”
    “No, he’s not a friend, not really.”
    The policeman was getting fed up. “So why would Milo Scarret think hitting Gregory Langton would make you leave town?”
    I shrugged. How could I explain that he must’ve seen me holding Gregory’s hand, that he thought we were together, but we weren’t and never would be? “Maybe you should be rounding up Milo and asking him.”
    That got me a blank stare. I’d annoyed him. “We don’t need you telling us what to do.” His radio squawked. “Shut up and stay still while I get this, or you’ll be in trouble.”
    He turned away from me and began talking into his radio. I stayed where I was. The crowd had grown bigger. Two waitresses about my age, in black and white uniforms, were creeping forwards, trying to see what was going on, their eyes wide.
    “Aw no! It’s Gregory!” I heard one of them say. “Does Alice know?”
    “Someone tell her. She’s in the bar. No, wait! Here she is! Oh, poor Alice.”
    The girl with the fair, shiny hair and the kitten face came running towards us, pushing through the watchers.
    “Alice! Quick. It’s Gregory!” they shouted.
    She was frowning. “What’s happened?”
    When she saw him and the pool of blood, her hand went to her mouth. She ran up to the paramedics, her blonde hair swinging from side to side. “Oh my God. Let me speak to him.”
    They ignored her. The policeman put his free hand out to stop her. “Hold on, miss. Let them do their job.”
    She saw me and frowned, probably trying to remember where she’d seen me before. “Do you know what happened?”
    I didn’t have time to answer her. She saw the policeman’s hand around my arm and her mouth