Page 58 of Fe
“Fen Wood? This is police constable David Standish. Would you come in to speak to us tomorrow. Any time after eleven.”
He gave the address of the station. Fen sighed. He’d call Ripley once he was in his flat. Bad as it was to be sacked, getting into trouble with the police over something he didn’t do was even worse.
By the time he reached Peckham, Fen was physically and mentally exhausted. He didn’t feel like eating but he needed to put something in his stomach. It wasn’t good for him to skip meals. He got off the bus a stop too soon and called in at the fish and chip shop. A bag of chips was a rare treat, mainly because of the cost. He added salt and vinegar and kept the wrapping open. He didn’t want to take the smell back to his room.
Fen stood in the doorway of a closed charity shop to eat the chips and as he moved under cover, it started to snow, thick flakes fluttering down. It wasn’t settling but it looked pretty. He watched it falling as he ate. He was halfway through the portion when a couple of guys walked past, glanced at him, said something to each other, then stopped and came back. When Fen recognised them, he mentally groaned.
“Look who’s here,” said the taller one.
“You hurt me,” said the other.
“Where’s your fuck buddy?” The taller one moved closer.
“You had your revenge shoving all that crap through my letterbox. Then pissing through it. Took me ages to clean it all up. I’ve had a really bad day. Please don’t make it even worse.”
“Oh he saidplease,” the shorter one mocked. “Well, that makes it all right then.”
The other knocked the food from Fen’s hand.
Fen knew what was coming and also knew there wasn’t much he could do about it. He didn’t want them to take his tools, his phone or his keys. He pulled the crutch from his arm into his hand, took a deep breath and pushed past them onto the pavement. He couldn’t run, but he tried to move as quickly as he could. A hand caught his shoulder and twisted him round.
“Let me go!” he yelled.
The taller one hit him in the shoulder and Fen tried to strike out with his crutch, but a kick to his knee brought him crashing to the pavement and he cried out in pain.
“Leave him alone,” someone yelled.
As the blows continued, Fen curled up as best he could, trying to protect his face and stomach. Someone was wrenching at his bags, and he clung onto them. Then the pulling stopped and the taller man fell next to him, groaning. It took Fen a moment to register it was Ripley who was helping, slamming his fists into the other man. Where had he come from?
The two attackers ran off and Ripley crouched at his side. “Fen! Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay.”
Ripley helped him to his feet, then picked up his crutch and handed it to him. “Let me carry your bags. We need to get inside your flat before they decide to come back.”
Fen let him take them. He hobbled back down the road.
“Sure you’re all right? You don’t need an ambulance?” Ripley asked.
“No. I’m fine.”
Once they were at his door, Fen pulled out his keys with shaking fingers. Once he and Ripley were inside, Ripley closed the door and checked it was secure. Fen was breathing heavily, more through the rush of adrenaline than pain, but then Ripley put his fingers to Fen’s cheek and they came away smeared with blood and Fen groaned.
“Am I bleeding to death?” Fen tried to smile.
“Yes, don’t get any blood on my coat,” Ripley said. “Going to invite me up?”
Fen climbed the stairs slowly with Ripley right behind him. When Fen stumbled near the top, he felt Ripley’s hand on his back, steadying him. Fen moved through his door and went to sit on his bed. Ripley put down the bags, then went over to the sink. He came back with a sheet of wet kitchen towel and sat next to him.
“It’s just a scratch,” Ripley said.
He wiped his cheek so gently, Fen found it hard to swallow.
“Good timing, Superman,” Fen said.
“Even better timing if I’d got there before they touched you.”
“And better yet if you’d saved my chips.”
