Virgin Territory Read Online Free PDF Page B

sailors.
    ‘Need some company, darling?’ one of them roared.
    ‘Or d’you need something else?’ another said.
    ‘Yeah. Something stronger.’
    ‘Or harder?’
    As though these men were of no consequence, Claudia steered her docile charge in the opposite direction. Their footsteps echoed on the cobbles behind her, but the advance was slow and no threat. Why, then, should she be shaking?
    ‘Shit!’
    She was in a dead end. And the footsteps and the catcalls came closer and closer. The high sides of the storehouses magnified the sounds.
    Claudia looked round, her eyes quickly growing accustomed to the darkness of the alley. She did not feel out of place. She’d spent a large chunk of her childhood in alleys such as this, whenever her drunken mother threw her out. Somewhere in the distance, two tomcats were squaring up.
    ‘The one on the left looks the softest,’ she hissed under her breath. He reeled more than the others, could barely keep upright. ‘When they come close, hit him with this.’
    She held out a piece of broken timber.
    Sabina’s hand hung limp at her side.
    ‘Take it, dammit!’
    The alley was musty, stale. Smoke from a stoke pit drifted over, grey like a sea fret. Grey like a grave.
    She could see them clearly. Frames solid from outdoor work. Frames which would not damage easily. Sailors, definitely. Wharfies didn’t have these excesses. Wharfies didn’t have the rolling gait. Sailors, their first night ashore after how long? Too long. What started off as a game had turned ugly, but they were drunk. And drunk meant slow…
    Ratface was the leader. She knew the type. ‘Waiting for us?’ Snigger. ‘That’s nice, innit, boys?’
    The yowl of the tomcats sent a shiver down her spine. ‘Go to hell.’
    ‘I likes a bit of red meat.’ More sniggers.
    ‘Then eat this!’ She bounced a piece of fallen masonry off Ratface’s forehead. He reeled, blood streaming down his face to blind him.
    Laughing and whooping, the other three tumbled forward. Claudia screamed ‘Hit him!’ but the silly cow just stood there. She’d dropped the makeshift club and was stroking that bloody blue flagon, even when one of the sailors made a grab at her tunic. Ratface was mopping blood with his kerchief. Funny how the face bleeds so copiously! Claudia swore under her breath. Kicking one assailant’s legs from under him, she flung herself at the piece of timber and whacked Sabina’s attacker hard on the kneecap. He buckled, screaming. She used the reverse swing to hit the fourth man in the stomach. She was right he was the softest. He was spewing his guts up.
    Before she could run, Ratface threw one arm round her waist and his hand clamped over her mouth.
    ‘Want to play dirty, do yer?’
    Kicking and fighting and squirming and squealing, she caught Sabina’s eye.
    Run! Run, you silly bitch, and get help!
    Sabina stood stock-still in the middle of the alleyway. Claudia thought she could hear humming.
    Shit!
    Ratface’s companion was back in the fray and together they dragged her face-flat against the warehouse wall. She could feel her stola being pulled up round her waist, felt Ratface’s blood dribble down her neck.
    ‘Me first, darlin’.’
    His breath smelled of stale wine and bad teeth. The hands pummelling her flesh were calloused and rough. His laugh came from Hades.
    The bones in Claudia’s legs had turned traitor. All that was left in their place was jelly. Plaster and dust filled her nostrils.
    ‘Hold her, Squint, while I ditch me loin cloth.’
    Ratface’s hand fell from her mouth and Claudia gulped in the stale night air. Screaming was pointless and Squint’s grip was like iron. Across the alley, two men were retching and groaning. Soon they would recover. She prayed Sabina had run for help. Only somehow she doubted it.
    Claudia forced herself to go limp. She pretended to whimper and Squint, befuddled by drink, relaxed. She counted. One, two, three ! Spinning round, she jabbed her fingers in his