“Ah, here! You lot!” A shout from up ahead.
I looked in the direction of the voice, to where the bluesign of Clery’s Newsagents shone like a patch of sky on the gray block.
Sam stood on the sidewalk, eyebrows raised. “What’s this, then?”
The boy who had touched me took a step back, holding up his hands like a kid caught raiding the cookie jar. “We was just slagging, Sam.”
“She were alone,” Monkey Ears said. “We didn’t want her to get lost.”
“Youget lost.” The blue-haired girl appeared behind Sam, arms crossed over her impressive bosom. “Fuckers.”
There were catcalls and kissy sounds. “Love you, Fee.”
“Fuck off, Danny Doyle. Before I tie your tiny dick in a knot.”
Sam’s gaze cut to the girl. “Get her a cup of tea.”
I froze, feeling my tiny measure of control slipping away.
“You can wait inside,” Fee said. “If you want.”
I forced my feet to move, my legs to stop shaking. “Okay. Thank you.”
“I want to talk to you lads,” Sam said with quiet menace as I slipped by.
“Ooh, I’m so scared,” a boy jeered.
“Or I can come round later and have a word with your mam,” Sam said.
“Shit.”
The girl touched my arm, kindly pretending not to notice when I flinched. “All right?”
I nodded, shamed and grateful, following her into the shop.
“Chai latte, is it?” she asked, moving behind the counter.
I nodded. “Um. Please.” I was reaching for my wallet to pay when Sam came in.
He shook his head. “On the house.”
“Don’t be too nice to me,” I warned. “I’ll cry.”
“Look, they’re obnoxious little shits, but they won’t bother you again.”
“Unless they’re high,” the girl said, setting down the thick white mug. “Or pissed.”
“What were you doing anyway?” Sam asked me.
“Looking at apartments.”
The girl rounded on him. “What does it matter what she was doing? Don’t blame the victim.”
He looked taken aback. “I wasn’t. But you’re an outsider,” he said to me. “That makes you a target. Best to ignore them and move on.”
I nodded. That’s what I’d always done, what I saw other women do, accepting the catcalls, come-ons, and lurking threats as the cost of being a woman—the crime of being female in public.
“Hard to ignore,” Fee said. “When they’re following you around, making comments on your body like you’re a fecking statue in the park. Entitled pricks. They only run off at the mouth because they think they can get away with it.”
