Someone Who Isn't Me by Danuta Kot (romance novel chinese novels .TXT) 📕

the platform. He waited until she was in her seat before he pulled away, a small kindness that made her eyes sting.

Were those lads intending to hurt Lewis, or were they just giving him a warning? She could still see the flat menace in the eyes of the lanky kid. You’re dead! She knew what he had in his pocket.

Was it just a threat? Did he know something about last night?

Snitch bitch. She could still see the silhouette of the man who had attacked her, against the dim light of the gennel. Was it him, the tall, lanky lad? The voice was wrong, and she thought the person she’d seen silhouetted against the light wasn’t as tall, but she couldn’t be certain. It was all swirling round in her head in a confusing jumble – Lewis, the knife, the attack, the text message – and she could feel, deep down inside her, the thoughts starting again: useless, waste of space, loser, loser, baggers can’t be choosers, Becca…

She closed her eyes and let them wash over her. Like a rowdy crowd in a shopping mall, they flowed past, pushing and shoving, and then they were gone and she could breathe again.

There were other things to worry about, and she made herself focus on those. Where was she going to find ten pounds to replace the money she’d taken out of the rent? How was she going to manage when she’d lost a week’s cash? There was just the remains of the tenner and it would be – she did the sums rapidly in her head – it would be nine days before she got paid again.

There’d be no money for heat, for food, for the kitten.

She couldn’t take any more out of the rent money. George had been OK recently, but he wouldn’t be if she went into arrears. He’d made that clear when she moved in. You paid up or you were out. She put her face in her hands, then realised people were looking at her, and sat up again.

But she didn’t know what she was going to do.

When she got to the supermarket – on time, thanks to the bus driver – Bryan took one look at her face. ‘You can’t go on the tills like that,’ he said.

‘It’s nothing. I…’ She didn’t know what to say, and ended up with ‘I fell over’, which was probably the worst thing she could have said.

‘I don’t want to know about that,’ he said. ‘Well, you’d better work in the stockroom this morning. It’s not convenient. I’ve got two people off today.’

‘I’m sorry.’ She’d sworn she wouldn’t apologise but she needed his help. ‘Listen, are you short-handed this afternoon? I could stay on.’ She could manage without her half day. Work here till five-thirty, then go on to the pub. She could do that.

‘I need people on the tills and the shop floor. You can’t—’

‘I can cover it with some make-up,’ Becca said, hearing the eagerness in her voice. ‘I could, you know, keep the shelves stacked and stuff. People wouldn’t notice.’

‘Absolutely not. We can’t have our staff out in the shop looking as if they’ve been brawling. I’m not happy with your attitude to the customers anyway. I’ve been told you even swear in front of them.’

Sheryl. The cow. ‘I don’t,’ she said quickly. ‘That’s not true. But this afternoon, I’m sure I could…’ She heard the pleading note in her voice and hated herself for it.

‘No. Absolutely not,’ he said again.

So that was that. It was like being caught in a trap and she couldn’t see any way out of it. All morning she shifted boxes – wet from the rain so she had to watch out for the tape giving way – loaded trolleys for shelving, checked inventories on the system, trying to ignore the stiffness and the pain. Her mind was going over and over the problem. How could she get some more money? At least it stopped her thinking about anything else.

You’re dead.

She caught up with Jade when she came in later in the morning, and told her quickly about what she’d seen. ‘He looked really scared, Jade.’

Jade shook her head wearily. ‘I don’t know what to do. We had the police round yesterday for him. Little sod. He pretends he’s so tough but he just about wet himself. I think he dobbed some people in, and now they’re after him.’

‘Won’t they – you know, the police – give him some protection?’

‘Them? Don’t make me laugh. I said, I told them, you can take him. Put him in one of them units. He won’t listen to me.’

‘Really?’

‘He’s going to get himself hurt,’ Jade said. ‘Maybe they can keep him out of trouble.’ Her words were angry, but her eyes looked haunted as she stubbed her cigarette out. ‘Are you OK?’ she asked, as if she’d only just noticed the bruises on Becca’s face.

‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ Becca reassured her, and Jade just nodded without making any further comment.

By midday, her ribs were on fire and every bruise seemed to hurt twice as much. All she wanted to do was go home, curl up on the bed and sleep, but she had to walk past the bus stop, even though her bus was waiting there as people climbed on board. She was broke. A small box of own-brand cat biscuits had cost her almost two quid, leaving her with three pounds to last her until she was paid again. OK, she could – just – feed herself and the kitten for the next few days. Her rent was due at the end of the week and she was ten pounds short. It might as well be five hundred for all the chance she had of getting it. And there was no point in asking Bryan for an advance. He’d enjoy saying ‘No.’

The walk home took an age, she had to move so carefully with the stabbing pain in her ribs. She didn’t want George to see her