Nowhere Child Read Free Page B

Salford, I suppose. It was one of my favourite places, because the security guard was a fatty, and I knew I could run faster. But as I slid out of the door, hoping I hadn’t been spotted but not really that bothered, I got the shock of my life. This young, fit, black guy was standing in Fatty’s place, wearing a security uniform. He looked at my shocked face and knew exactly what I’d done. I set off running. I was quick and I dodged the people coming down the street – but he wasn’t about to give up. Mostly these guys run for about ten metres to make a bit of a show and then turn round and go back, defeated once more by the dregs of Manchester. But this one was on a mission, and I was losing.
    I raced across the road, down a side street and into some gardens I’d never seen before. People were out enjoying the sun and stared at me as I legged it over the grass and onto the path. He was getting closer.
    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a boy slouching on a bench, staring at a brightly coloured flowerbed in the centre where the paths met. It was so gaudy with its reds and yellows it hurt my eyes. The boy glanced at me as I ran past, and a couple of seconds later I heard a loud shout and a clatter.
    ’Jesus ,’ a deep voice yelled. ‘You stupid kid – I nearly had him.’
    I dodged behind some shrubs and stopped to grab my breath. The man might not have seen where I’d gone, and I thought that if I was lucky I might be safe – thanks to the boy. I was running out of steam – I hadn’t eaten for two days.
    I peered through the leaves and saw the boy on the floor, the big black guy sprawled on top of him. The guy pushed himself up and started brushing fiercely at his trousers with the pale palms of his black hands as he ripped into the kid for getting in the way.
    The boy managed to wriggle into a kneeling position, and I could see blood on his face – where his cheekbone jutted out from his skinny cheek. It must have hurt. This kid probably weighed about the same as the black guy’s left leg, and his jeans hung off him as if he’d borrowed them from an older brother.
    ‘Sorry, mister,’ he said, his voice weak and shaking. ‘I didn’t see you coming. I didn’t mean to get in your way.’ The boy looked petrified and the man stopped for a moment and looked at him properly.
    ‘You’re okay, kid. Sorry I shouted. I really wanted to catch that lad, though. It’s my first day, and … Here, let me give you a pull up.’ He held out his hand, and the boy took it. He tried to look at the blood on the boy’s face, but the boy pushed his hand away.
    I couldn’t hear them any more, because two women had come to sit on a bench in front of my shrub, and they were yattering. The security guy looked my way once, brushed at his trousers again, said a couple of words to the boy and walked off – back towards his shop, where no doubt he would get a hot cup of tea and a bun for his efforts.
    I looked at the treasure I had managed to nick. A sausage roll. It was still warm because I’d taken it from the hot cupboard, and now that the danger was past my mouth was watering. I decided to sit where I was, hidden under a bush that had huge pink flowers and shiny leaves but which was somehow quite empty underneath, almost like a kid’s den.
    The boy was walking along the path and would pass me soon. I should probably have thanked him, but I was scared of showing myself in case the man came back.
    ‘You can come out, you know.’ The voice was totally unlike the weak, scared version I had heard minutes earlier. There was some sort of accent too, but I didn’t know enough to be able to recognise then that it was Scottish. He told me that later.
    I stopped, the sausage roll halfway to my mouth, and stayed silent.
    A face appeared between the leaves. ‘Can you spare a wee bite for your rescuer?’ He pushed his way through and sat down. ‘Budge up,’ he said.
    I gave him half the sausage roll.
    He was even skinnier that