‘Good on a trail bike, too, are you?’
Skinner gave her a lopsided grin, turned and spat onto the ground, just missing her foot.
Ana looked impressed. ‘Good shot,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t have done better myself.’
‘Yeah, I’m good at everything,’ he boasted.
‘What about on a trail bike?’
‘I already told him,’ he said, nodding towards Matt. ‘I ain’t got no trail bike.’
Matt was trying not to look at the scabs on Skinner’s shaved head.
‘We’re at college, mate, summer holidays.’
‘Good at college too, are you?’ asked Ana.
He grinned. ‘Yeah, as it ’appens, I am.’
‘But not good on a trail bike?’ said Ana, turning her back and walking away.
‘I told you I ain’t got no trail bike.’
‘I’m disappointed because that means you’re not good at everything – because I hear that bloke is ace on that bike,’ she threw over her shoulder.
‘He ain’t that good,’ said Skinner without thinking.
Ana turned and smiled. ‘So you do know him?’
Matt looked at her admiringly.
‘I didn’t say I knew him. I just seen ’im,’ said Skinner.
‘Well enough to know how good he is on it,’ said Matt.
Ana turned to the other lads. ‘Who’s the boss of this gang then?’
‘We ain’t in no gang,’ said Skinner.
‘Yeah, right, and I ain’t a copper. He wouldn’t protect you. You know that?’ she said, staring straight into Skinner’s eyes.
‘We don’t know nothing,’ said Skinner.
‘We’ll be back,’ said Ana, walking away. ‘I’d see a doctor about that eczema if I were you,’ she added.
When they were out of earshot, Matt said, ‘You made an impression.’
‘That was my intention,’ said Ana with a wink.
They walked past run-down houses with shabby net curtains and shopping trolleys in the front gardens.
‘I never get why people nick trolleys,’ said Ana.
‘Good for stacking the stolen goods in,’ said Matt, in a matter-of-fact tone.
They strolled past several garages scrawled with graffiti until they reached a small block of flats.
‘Local brothel,’ said Matt. ‘We get called out a few times here. You know, neighbours complaining about shouting and whatnot.’