Page 64 of The Girl in the Woods

‘Got their fancy cars smashed up. I think it was that vigilante bloke. He was wearing the same combats.’

Digger shrugged. ‘He won’t come here,’ he said confidently.

‘I hope not,’ said Twitch nervously.

Needles was swaggering towards them, and his face lit up when he saw Digger. ‘Hey, mate,’ he said, giving him a high five. ‘Well done.’

Skinner saw, with horror, that in his other hand was a hatchet. ‘You never said anything about getting tooled up,’ he said anxiously.

‘Don’t worry. It’s not for them. It’s just to smash a few things. Let ’em know we mean business.’

Skinner heard the excitement in Needles’ voice and began to doubt whether this was a good idea after all, but didn’t know how to get out of it.

Needles pulled balaclavas from his pocket and handed them around.

‘Maybe we shouldn’t take the hatchet,’ stuttered Digger.

Needles’ face clouded over. ‘Are you in the Vipers or not, or are you just fucking cowards?’

‘Aw, come on, Needles, it’s just me mum goes in there a lot, and they’re always helpful and–’

‘Bloody ’ell, what are you now? A fucking Paki lover?’ Needles sneered, his eyes flashing.

‘Let’s go,’ he said to Skinner without waiting for Digger to reply. Digger hurried after them.

Imran had never liked the skinhead kid with the tattoos, and his wife, Huma, had wanted him banned from the shop.

‘For what?’ he’d asked her. ‘He’s not done anything for us to ban him.’

‘You know why. He hates us.’

Imran had shrugged. Many people hated them, but an awful lot of people liked them and were their friends. One lad with a few tattoos and something of an attitude Imran felt he could handle. He didn’t want to start banning people because they were racist. That kind of thing just fuelled further racism. They’d run the village shop now for five years, and everyone had always been friendly.

He was refilling the coffee machine when he heard the jingle of the door opening. Imran turned with a smile, expecting one of his Longbridge regulars. Instead, he came face to face with three men in balaclavas. At the sight of the hatchet, a spike of adrenalin shot through him.

‘What’s going on? What do you want?’ he asked, trying to hide his fear but failing miserably. Huma was upstairs with the boys. If he called her, she’d hear the fear in his voice and come down.

‘I don’t want trouble,’ he said. ‘Take what you like.’

Needles stepped forward, menacingly brandishing the hatchet. ‘Don’t worry, mate, we will because this shop should be ours and not stinking of your fucking curries. Get some cans of lager, boys,’ he said, turning to Skinner. ‘We’ll have some crisps as well.’

Needles turned back to Imran, his eyes black with hate. ‘That fucking coffee you make is shit.’

He brought the hatchet down with a frightening smash onto the coffee machine, sending glass and paper cups flying through the air. The second smash brought Huma rushing down the stairs from their upstairs flat. At the sight of the balaclavas, she screamed in terror.

‘Please, just take what you want and go,’ begged Imran.

Huma, in her fear, was struggling to breathe. Seeing her, Digger panicked and edged his way to the door, followed by Twitch. ‘Let’s go,’ he yelled.

Needles turned to Digger and said firmly, ‘When I’m ready.’

Tim was heading home after a quick pint at the local. He didn’t often stop after work, but it had been hot that day, and as his aunt was with his mum, he thought he’d have a quick one before going home.

As he approached the corner shop, he decided to pop in for his mum’s magazine and the local paper. Then, as he drew closer, he heard a crashing sound followed by a woman’s scream. He ran to the shop, presuming someone had had an accident, but he stopped abruptly when faced with three masked men. On the floor, in the corner of the shop, he could see Huma was hyperventilating, and Imran was rigid with fear.

‘Help us,’ cried Huma.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ Tim yelled.

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