Someone's Someone

Someone's Someone - Chapter Five

Henna....

"That's it! You have to move back here. I can't have you being mugged right on your own bloody doorstep!" Yep, dad is very much freaking. "This isn't up for debate, Henna. You're coming back home...today!"

Although I knew this would happen, I am slightly taken aback by how upset my father seems to be. "Dad, I'm fine. I wasn't paying attention when I got off that bus." I argue, trying to make him see sense.

Parts of my dad's face is white with fear and mottled red with anger. "You shouldn't have to be paying attention, Henna. You should be able to get off a bus and walk home without being mugged." On edge, Dad isn't quite sure what to do with himself. He keeps doing short little back and forth motions with his feet, growing more fretful and more angry by the second. "This is the first time this has happened, right? Old Market hasn't suddenly become a crime hotspot, has it?" Poor Dad is being bombarded with so many different panicked thoughts, he's now just throwing panicked questions at me.

Walking nearer to where he is in his kitchen, I try to smile in his very agitated direction. "It's a one-off, Dad. I'm perfectly safe in Old Market." I no longer feel perfectly safe anywhere anymore, but dad doesn't need to know that. He only needs to know that I'm okay, because if he gets one whiff of me not feeling safe—I'll be back in Clifton in a heartbeat.

Dad has heard what I've just said, he's just thinking before speaking. "If anything like this ever happens again, Henna, I don't care how old you are, you'll be coming back here, okay?"

That's dad's way of saying that he'll let me live in my flat, so I still get to leave make up all over my floors and hair conditioning treatments in my bath. "It was only because my car had broke down that I had to get the bus, and she's all fixed now, so I'll not need to use the bus again, will I?"

Dad's eyes look at me, ingrained with dark green guilt. "I should have picked you up." His gaze moves from mine, hanging his head down slightly.

I quickly wrap my arm around his slumped shoulder, not wanting him to feel any worse than he already does. "Dad, it wasn't your fault. These things happen."

His downturned mouth remains grimly downturned. "Not to you, they don't." Comes a protective mumble. "At least that homeless chap was there to help you." He mumbles again, now giving me a quick little cuddle. "Which in itself is a surprise, most of them are either drunk or on that Space stuff. I've seen it on the news, it turns them into bloody zombies."

Chuckling, I quickly need to correct my father. "It's called Spice, Dad. And Danny doesn't do any of that." I can't be sure, I know, but that is what I happen to believe is true.

Dad stills, drawing back slightly so he can look at me. "How can you be so sure? And how do you know his name?" His dark green eyes are now narrowed, making his fatherly stare seem suddenly stern and intimidating.

A hesitant smile dubiously pulls on the corners of my mouth. "Because I found him today. I wanted to find him so I could thank him." My smile confidently curls up more, wanting my dad to understand.

Dad holds me away from him, angrily at arms length. "Jesus, Henna! What have you done now?"

Blinking up at him, feeling about ten years old, I try to remain confident. "Nothing. I was out shopping and found the guy who rescued me from those muggers. I wanted to take him to get something to eat and drink, but he wouldn't. So I bought him some things and went and sat with him for a little bit."

Dad lets go of my arms and turns his back on me. "Bloody hell, this just gets worse and worse." He's back to his unsure pacing, his face no doubt now turning a vast array of purples. He quickly spins around to face me again, hands now firmly on his hips "Are you trying to give me a heart attack, Henna? You can't be going up to homeless men and inviting them to dine with you, and you certainly shouldn't be sitting down with homeless men." His voice is raising, so is his blood pressure. "You've always been like this, trying to help things all the bloody time. But this, this is a step too far, Henna." Dad looks at me with a mixture of panic, sadness and disappointment. "Promise me you'll not try to save this man. There's a reason why he is living on the streets. He could be violent. He could be anything. You've got to stop being so trusting, Henna." Dad's eyes are imploring me to listen, imploring me to understand. His hands are back to holding my arms, his stern and intimidating stare now beginning to soften. "Promise me?"