‘Everything a girl could want,’ he said.
About midway through the park there was a large square of lawn bounded on two adjacent sides by a high, dense hedge. Sulphurous light from the goose-necked security lamps reached here, but the shadows were long. The path looped across the grass into the dark elbow of the hedge. It was prudent, despite the wetness of the grass, to cut across the neck of the loop and back onto the path at the far end of the hedge. But her escort followed the path into the shadows. Charlotte’s heart fluttered in amorous fear and anticipation. But he strolled beside her with his hands in the pockets of his jacket.
As the path approached the end of the hedge a dark figure stepped onto it, legs spread, blocking their way. Its shadow cut a dark rift between them. Charlotte sucked in a sharp breath, almost choking on the chill air.
‘Well, i’n’ this a surprise,’ said Ray. ‘The cock teaser and the ivory tickler out for a bit of nookie.’
Her eyes on Ray, Charlotte instinctively shrunk into the lee of her companion, but he moved away, stranding her like a chicken in the road. She stared at him, shocked. He had removed his hands from his pockets and was pulling on kid-leather gloves. He was turned side-on to Ray and he casually glanced to his left. His breath smoked from his lips and dissolved in the night. Charlotte was certain her eyes, not her most reliable organs, betrayed her again. She thought she saw him smile. She snapped a panicky glance over her shoulder. Chas stood in the path a few metres behind.
‘The beds upstairs musta been fully booked, eh, Chas?’ Ray took a pace forward and snarled. ‘We’ll look after the slut’s needs, Elton.’
‘Fuck off or you won’t able to tickle your dick with what’s left of your fingers,’ Chas chimed in.
Charlotte was staring at Mr E. Her chest was being squeezed like a toothpaste tube in a fist. She could feel her jaw going up and down but no words came. Her erstwhile protector seemed more interested in the smooth fit of his gloves than the drama unfolding around them. His eyes came up and gripped hers. They were calm and cool and, even in the subdued light, blue.
‘You go on home,’ he said. ‘I’ll take care of this.’ He stepped to the middle of the path, facing Ray.
‘Watch her,’ Ray growled to Chas and propelled himself swaggeringly at the man before him.
He was as tall as Mr E and much heavier. The punch he launched might have shattered bone had it landed. Ray grunted as the ball of knuckle and flesh at the end of his arm struck air and he was wrenched forward by its force: a shotputter who forgot to let go. His target pirouetted like a weather-cock spinning in the slipstream of the blow. ‘Wax on,’ he said as his right leg came up, around and rammed out. Charlotte heard a dull crack, and Ray screamed.
She was aware of Chas advancing on her, but she couldn’t move. An icy fascination welded her to the spot. ‘Jesus fuck,’ Chas hissed at her ear and swerved away towards the cry. Then he baulked abruptly, caught in a limbo of anger and fear. He stared helplessly at his friend, who writhed on the ground spitting expletives and groaning in pain. Charlotte watched as Mr E moved with insolent leisure behind Chas. By the time Ray’s mate had reasoned that discretion was preferable to valour the path of his retreat was cut. Chas turned and froze when he saw it. He swayed jerkily from side to side like a cobra that knows the mongoose has his measure.
‘Kill the cunt!’ Ray chewed through his agony.
And Chas uttered a strangled war cry and swung an arm like a mace.
Charlotte clenched her eyes and the sounds of ‘Wax off,’ the wet snap of bone and Chas’s pain filled her ears.
‘Are you alright?’ she heard and opened her eyes. He stood between two contorted figures that moaned on the grass. His face bore an expression of concern.
‘I’m okay,’ she lied, hugging her chest, her body now colder than the night.
He turned and bent over Ray, who cringed. He searched through his clothes then moved to Chas who whimpered a feeble, wordless plea. When he straightened he held their wallets. He took a notebook from his pocket and wrote details from each wallet, then tucked them back in the clothes of the cowering men. ‘Have you got a mobile?’ Ray mumbled something. When he stood he had a phone in his hand; he thumbed the keys as he walked along the path a few paces. He spoke a few words, then asked Charlotte the names of the two streets at the nearest corner.
‘Raymond, Charles, I know your names and where you live,’ he said tossing the phone to Ray. ‘It’s a small world, Charles. Is your father still in real estate? Or have they caught on to his scam?’ Chas swore weakly. ‘Gentlemen, your names and faces will be circulated to every brothel in this city. And if I find myself downwind of you again, I remind you that you have three more limbs and a neck.’ He walked over and heaved a bleating Chas to his feet. ‘A taxi’s on its way. Help your friend up.’
‘I gotta fuckin’ broken arm,’ grizzled Chas.
‘You have a spare, Charles. Don’t worry, I’ll share the burden.’
Tears had overwhelmed Charlotte again.
‘You left them on the corner of the park waiting for a taxi?’ asked Rose.
Charlotte nodded, holding a tissue to her nose. ‘He was worried about me. I’d started to shiver and I couldn’t stop. Shock, he said.’ Salty runnels glistened on her cheeks. ‘I don’t know what to do, Rose. I think I’m frightened of him now.’
‘Charlotte,’ Rose said gently. ‘There were two men. He couldn’t fight by Marquis of Queensberry rules. It could easily have got out of hand and then what might have happened to you?’
‘He broke bones, Rose. It was like … like something in the Bible. He … he smote them.’
‘Charlotte,’ said Rose, and the mother was gone from her voice. ‘What do you think the Knight on the White Charger does after he finishes singing love songs beneath your balcony?’ She didn’t wait for an answer. ‘He rides out and smites your enemies. He slays the Dragon and cleaves the Black Knight in twain. And they die in agony in pools of blood.’ She patted Charlotte’s thigh and her voice softened. ‘Our knight expects no favours of us. That’s why the girls in this house feel safe.’
The eyes that Charlotte turned on Rose were forlorn pools in the blasted moor of her face. ‘Rose … Rose … it was my fault.’
House-mistress Rose was in charge again. ‘Tosh! Nothing was your fault, Charlotte!’ Each word was a nail driven to the head with a single blow. ‘It’s their testosterone and they should control it!’
12
The sky was the barrel of a black, bottomless well dusted with ice crystals. Rose squinted up through the small fogs of her breath. There were chinks of light in the top floor windows. He was at home and awake. The only other lights in the building shone from the first floor and the ground-level shopfront to the refuge for street kids. She hadn’t been here before tonight – the sanctum sanctorum. She didn’t know anyone who had crossed the threshold. If he entertained visitors, she’d heard, it was in the coffee shop behind her.
An empty W-class tram rattled past with ‘Depot’ displayed as its destination. She crossed the road. How to gain access was the immediate question. The Vietnamese newsagency, the tattoo and body piercing shop Pics ’n’ Pins, and the adult bookshop A Good Hard Read, were all in darkness. It was late Sunday night.
An adolescent girl dressed, dyed and painted in black was slouching in the doorway of the refuge. The visible parts of her body looked like they’d caught