Helping Sarah

Chapter 15

Sarah

All of my mirth collapsed. It coalesced into a tight ball that plummeted to the deepest level of my gut, and I couldn't drag in a new breath to replace the one I exhaled on a gasp.

I stumbled back a few steps and accidentally pulled Charlie's arm, but nothing was going to make me let go of my son while this man was anywhere nearby.

"Hello, love," Lenny growled as he advanced towards us. Then his eyes lowered to Charlie.

The shopping bag fell to the pavement with a thud as I lifted Charlie up on my hip and held him close to my body with both arms, a hand on his head. I had to look up as Lenny was more than a head taller than me and with the engorged physique of a body builder. His head was shaved and black tattoos swirled up his arms and neck.

"What do you want?" My voice was nothing more than a whisper.

"You know what I want. I want my money."

"I don't have it."

His beady eyes moved down, lingered on my breasts outlined by my t-shirt pulled tight over my chest, caught between Charlie and me. "You'd always work it off. I know a few blokes who'd pay good for an hour with someone like you." He scratched his nose as he leaned closer, and his smoker's breath almost made me gang. "In fact, I'd not mind rubbing out a bit of the debt for a shag myself."

Bile rose in my throat, and I stumbled back another few steps, away from this man, holding Charlie even closer. And then I remembered Michael's instructions. But my bag was hanging crosswise over my body and had been pushed behind me to bump against my butt. I couldn't reach into it for the spray or the alarm without letting go of my son.

Shaking my head, I forced down the sour taste, but my mouth and throat were like sandpaper. The mere thought of letting this man touch me made me sick.

Lenny's eyes narrowed as he followed. "You won't spread for me?" he sneered. "You too posh for the likes of me, is that it? Then how 'bout I send round a few of my mates for a crowd shag? That'll teach you to pay what you owe."

My breath strangled in my throat. I knew, I should run, fight, but my feet were locked firmly to the ground. Had I been holding anything other than Charlie, my arms and legs would have given in.

"You'd not want your boy to see that, would you? Or hear your screaming."

Lenny lifted a hand to Charlie's hair, but I slapped it away before he could touch, and my clever boy moved his head back from Lenny.

"Don't touch him!"

The hand grabbed my upper arm instead. "Now listen here, you stupid–"

"Mrs Graves? Who's that you're talking to?"

Lenny's hand withdrew at the belligerent call, and I could have wept with relief when I saw Mrs Boyce hurrying towards us with a surprisingly agile step for an eighty-four year old.

"What's going on here?" she demanded when she stopped beside me, but Lenny was already walking away, only pausing to step on the carton of eggs that had fallen out of my shopping bag.

My shoulders fell on something very close to a sob, but I had to hold it together in front of Charlie. "Thank you," I whispered to my neighbour.

Mrs Boyce's eyes narrowed on Lenny's back as he disappeared down the road. "Who was that?"

"My husband knew him." I regretted the words the moment I had spoken them, but I was too shaken to mind what I said. To wonder how Mrs Boyce would hear them or what they would make her think of me.