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She’d probably clip me around the head.

But she laughed. ‘Ma’am? Ooh, hark at you with the niceties. Officer Thompson will do.’

‘Okay, Officer Thompson. Can I go now?’

‘Not yet. Now I’ve shared something about myself, I think it’s only fair that you tell me what happened to you and why you were running through the park like Carl Lewis.’

‘I can’t tell you.’

‘You will have to tell me something, John-Michael, or do I need to fetch PC Williams to take you home again?’ she said. ‘You know he won’t be happy taking you home twice in one week.’ She made to get up.

I sighed. ‘Okay, I’ll tell you. Just don’t tell PC Williams, please. He’ll tell my grandad,’ I said as I pushed my palms together into an almost-praying position.

‘Deal,’ she said.

‘This lad beat me up,’ I told her.

‘If you know karate, why didn’t you defend yourself?’

I shrugged. ‘Sensei said you can’t use it outside the dojo. Plus, I can’t remember much. It was a long time ago.’

‘You should always try to defend yourself. Nothing wrong with that,’ she told me. ‘Anyway, back to what happened. What lad? And why?’ She had a suspicious tone to her voice that I was all too familiar with from Mum.

I crossed my arms but winced when I pressed on a bruised rib, so held my hands on my lap instead. ‘I wasn’t doing anything. I was only browsing albums in the record shop, and this lad called me a weirdo. I left, and the next minute, he’s kicking me in the street,’ I said, my eyes focused on the dried blood on the back of my hand that I’d forgotten up to wipe off. I licked my finger and rubbed it away.

‘I see…’ Officer Thompson pondered. ‘And what were you doing before you went into the record shop? Did you happen to be following this lad you mentioned?’

‘Well, yes… But he hadn’t noticed me, and I never did anything to him,’ I added quickly.

‘You’ve been told not to follow people, haven’t you, John-Michael?’

I nodded. I knew that. I’d lost count of the number of times I’d been told what I was doing was wrong.

‘In any case, that doesn’t mean you deserved to be beaten up over it. He could have just told you to clear off. That’s what I’d have done.’

She drummed her fingers on the bench and didn’t speak for several minutes. I looked up slightly and observed the park. There weren’t many people here, just a couple of mums pushing their kids on the swings and several others throwing balls and frisbees to their dogs. It was still mild out, but in a few weeks, the weather would be warmer, and the park would get much busier.

‘Here’s what we’re going to do, John-Michael. You’re going to tell me what this rogue looks like, then we’re going to go find him and have a word,’ she said.

I chewed on my lip and shook my head. What if it made him angry, and he tried to find me and beat me up again, or worse? Bring his friends along too.

‘No, I don’t think so. I’m not allowed. Mum said I shouldn’t tell tales.’

‘Okay. Well, why don’t you walk back with me through town, and I’ll make sure you’re safe. We can see where PC Skive-a-lot has got to. I’m due back soon, anyway.’

I pursed my lips. It would be nice to have some protection as I walked back just in case I should bump into him again. So, I nodded and picked up my books, tucking the bag under my arm as we made to leave.

‘What’s them books you’ve got?’ Officer Thompson asked as we walked.

‘Books on babies,’ I said. ‘My sister is having a baby soon, and I want to learn all I can about them.’

‘Well, isn’t that something.’ She chuckled. ‘You’ll make a mighty fine uncle.’

‘Thank you.’ I smiled, and we continued on in silence.

We started walking not long before we got to town, she questioned me again.

‘Did this lad have any tattoos?’ she asked. ‘These lads around here all look the same with their stupid outfits, don’t you think John-Michael?’

‘No, they’re not all the same. Everyone has subtle differences I notice them all when I’m watching or following people.’

‘Oh, is that right? Like what?’

‘Different buttons, laces, tattoos, hair, the way they walk, the way they stand, all sorts.’

‘You notice these little things, do you? Why are you following these people? It can’t be just to see what they look like and what they are wearing, can it?’

‘I’m looking for something?’

‘What fashion crimes?’ she laughed.

‘I don’t know yet,’ I whispered.

Why did everyone always ask me that? I was just about sick of it.

‘Well, you must be able to give me an accurate description then?’

‘I could yes. But I’m not allowed, mum said.’

‘Yes, I know what your mam said, but I’m the police and I outrank your mam.’

‘You do?’ I asked her.

‘Of course, I do. Now, are you going to tell me?’

‘Okay I nicknamed him The Skinhead,’ I told her.

‘Great, well that doesn’t exactly narrow it down they do look the same as each other,’ she sighed.

‘Yes, sort of, but they don’t all have tattoos on their back of their necks,’ I said.

‘No, they’ve got them on their hands and their faces and everywhere. I’ve seen kids draw better pictures then what they’ve got tattoos.’

I laughed at her comparison.

‘Wow, hold on did you just laugh? I don’t think I’ve heard you laugh before John-Michael.’

I bit my lip. I never laughed often, had nothing much to laugh at before.

We were back in town now, near the shops I wanted to go home through the orchard to avoid it, but she told me not to be scared and we should go straight past the shops. I reluctantly agreed, as we got near the jewellers, we spotted four skinheads, she turned to face me, and I looked down.

‘Right, you just wait here a minute, look in the shop window or something,’ she told me.

WPC Thompson walked towards

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