A ginger cat with only half a tail skulked down the scruffy council house street. Mandy watched it hunt, as she stood over a Stacey Slater lookalike with bad skin and a filthy ponytail. The woman was sitting on the kerb and her nose was dripping blood into the gutter. She was using an old piece of toilet roll on her face that Mandy wouldn't have used to wipe her arse. Mandy handed her a fresh tissue. "Clean your face, Tracey."
The woman kept crying as Mandy walked over to Jamie, who was standing beside a police car. Handcuffed in the backseat was a male version of Tracey, without the ponytail. Billy Adams, local drunk, shoplifter and sometime woman beater.
Mandy said wearily to Jamie, "It's the usual story. She won't press charges, because she "loves" him. And she's afraid that if she does, he'll whack her again."
Jamie replied without heat. "Fuck 'em then. I hate this council house scum. We'll let Billy go and they can get back to the party."
"No we won't. We're still going to take him in and see if the CPS want to prosecute."
"It's a waste of time, Mandy. The CPS won't bother unless she's been put in the hospital."
"We're still taking the bastard in. At the very least it keeps him off the cider for a few hours and gives her a chance to lie down."
"Sarge'll be pissed off. You know what he said last time."
YOU ARE READING
MANDY
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