Sisters - Michelle Frances Page 0,60
turning up ahead, another street leading off this one; maybe it would take her back to the main drag. She hurried up to it and was almost there when a man stepped out of that very same turning right in front of her.
Abby jumped. She stopped, her heart hammering. Instinctively she knew the shadowy figure behind her had caught up.
‘Borsa,’ demanded the man in front of her, indicating her bag. He was thin, with sunken shadows under his wired eyes. He kept moving the entire time; desperation seemed to engulf his limbs and he twitched and ticked.
She clutched it tighter, some mistimed sense of justice making her deeply indignant. Why should she hand her bag over to some junkie? She could feel the other man was right behind her but up ahead she could see a main street full of people and noise. Surely she could get to it in time, and even if she couldn’t, the very fact she was running for it would scare these two addicts away. They looked like chancers, opportunists who would shrink back into the shadows the minute they might be exposed. She dodged around the man in front and was about to break into a sprint when a white-hot pain seared her shoulder. She found herself stumbling, then falling and hitting the ground with such force her chin felt as if it had been pushed back into her skull. Senses slowed by the pain, she was one step behind the man wrenching her bag off her shoulder and failed to hold on to it. The pain in her shoulder screamed out – or was that her? – and then a crack to her hip made her lose focus and she realized she’d been kicked. She tried to curl up in defence, her hands protecting her head as she cowered at their feet. From her position on the ground she could see her phone had fallen out of her pocket and had skidded across the cobbles. One of her attackers retrieved it and then they were gone, their trainer-clad footsteps running off in the other direction.
She lay there for a while, unable to move. She wasn’t sure how to get up; it was as if her body had lost its sense of self-belief, no longer knew how to operate muscles and tendons that it had been controlling for thirty-five years. She felt a warm wetness on her right shoulder and had an overwhelming urge to find out what it was. It was this that propelled her through the pain and paralysis, and she dragged herself up off the street, arching a screaming arm backwards, the agony almost unbearable as she touched blood.
There was a lot. Too much, thought Abby as she began to stumble towards the main street she could still see up ahead. As she broke out of the alley, back into the lights and the fun-seeking tourists, the terror of what had just happened suddenly engulfed her and she was so relieved to see a policeman that she lunged for him, just as he looked up and caught her in his arms.
She had a fractured jaw, severe bruising to the hip and a two-inch stab wound on her right shoulder. She’d been in hospital for three days, and was aware her short break had encroached on the beginning of a new working week. All her other Someone Special companions would have gone home now. She’d half wondered if she’d hear from Sean but no message had made its way to her via the rep who visited to talk her through her journey back to the UK. When the rep left the hospital, after filling in various forms, she burst into tears.
She sobbed silently, not wanting to draw the attention of the nurses. She was used to looking after herself, to not having a guardian to fall back on. She’d prided herself on successfully building her own fortress, on relying on no one but herself. Abby could look after Abby. Except, the first time she fell into trouble, she had behaved pitifully. She hadn’t fought back. She hadn’t even screamed. She’d just let those thugs do whatever they wanted, let them take her things, and had lain in the dirt, weak and pathetic.
A polite cough drew her out of her reverie. Flustered, Abby wiped her eyes and looked up. A policeman was stood at a respectful distance from the foot of the bed. Abby recognized him as the one she’d collapsed onto on