Skin Deep Read Online Free PDF Page B

come out and see this. Please.
    But please make it stop . . .
    The feet kept kicking. Above the sound of their laughter, I heard another roar. An engine. Coming closer.
    The kicks to my front stopped suddenly.
    ‘Brave little shits, aren’t you? Five on one.’
    The kicks behind me stopped as well.
    ‘Get out of here. Unless you want to take me on too.’
    Feet slammed on tarmac, running away. Big hands hauled me up.
    ‘You all right, kiddo? Let me see.’
    He pulled my arms away from my face. A big man in leather trousers and a vest, tattoos down both arms – bands of Celtic knots, brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, and a beard. His chest hair poked over the top of his black vest. The Harley engine thrummed next to us.
    ‘Getting a bit of hassle?’ He grinned at me and wiped blood away from my nose with his hand. It was hot from the sun and as hairy as the rest of him.
    I nodded.
    ‘No harm done?’
    ‘No, I’ll be OK.’ I sat up properly. ‘Thanks.’
    ‘No worries.’ He held out his hand for me to shake. ‘Cole.’
    ‘Ryan!’ Mum shrieked as she dropped her bags and ran towards us. ‘What happened?’
    Cole stood up. ‘He had some trouble with the local kids, but he’s fine.’
    Mum stopped in her tracks.
    He looked at her. She looked at him. And that was that.
    A week later he moved in.
    I walked through the town, keeping an eye open for craft shops for Mum. There were a few potentials. I scribbled the names down. Better give her something to sweeten her up because when she found out what I was planning, she’d go mental.
    The town looked like most of the country towns we stopped in, except for the lake on the edge of it – the mere that gave it its name. There were a few streets of shops and a mixture of houses, from the big, posh places to pokey cottages. You could probably walk from one end of it to the other in under half an hour. I passed the edge of a council estate and then I turned into a lane with a sign pointing to Whitmere Marina.
    The boatyard was bigger than I expected, but there didn’t seem to be much going on there considering how many boats they had in. A ginger cat eyed me from its sunbathing spot on top of a van. There was an old guy in the dock area working on a flue on the roof of a narrowboat, his bald head burnt red. He looked up as I went over, squinting his eyes before he shielded his face from the sun.
    I decided to get in first. ‘Excuse me, is the boss about, please?’
    He looked me up and down. ‘Aye, lad, over there, back of that shed sorting a delivery.’
    ‘Thanks.’
    The shed turned out to be the size of a small barn. There was no sign of life at first so I stepped inside and spotted a man at the back bending over a crate and counting out rope fenders.
    ‘Hello?’ I called.
    He straightened up. ‘Yeah?’
    ‘Sorry to disturb you. Um, have you got a minute?’
    He laughed and put the fender down. ‘That depends on how much you’re spending.’ He strolled over, dusting his hands off on his jeans. ‘What can I do you for?’
    My stomach steadied when I saw the tattoos up his arms and the ring through his eyebrow. He was around Cole’s age, with a big build like him.
    ‘I’m looking for work. I wondered if you needed any help.’
    He looked around. ‘I don’t see any sign up advertising a vacancy, do you?’
    ‘No.’ I shrugged and tried a smile. ‘Thought I’d ask though, just in case.’
    He snorted. ‘How old are you?’
    ‘Sixteen.’
    ‘Ever worked in a boatyard before?’
    ‘No, but –’
    ‘Ever worked before?’
    I hung my head. ‘No.’
    In the pause that followed I got ready to apologise and get out of there. There were other yards I could try, but this was the closest. He broke the silence in the end with another laugh.
    ‘Guess you won’t have picked up any bad habits then.’ I looked up quickly and he winked. ‘Come on, convince me.’
    I took a deep breath. ‘Um . . . er . . . I’m looking for work with boats because