After she’d scouted out the small, narrow aisles on her own, she bought a packet of chewing gum and a bottle of juice before wandering outside again. Around the corner she directed her little sister to head into the shop next and accidentally knock over a large basket full of fruit in the middle of the third aisle, which happened to be just out of sight from the main till and Indian shop assistant.
Gayle did exactly as she was told and not wishing to disappoint her big sister, made her herself trip and stumble hard into the basket full of fruit and vegetables at the first time of asking. The apples and oranges, tomatoes and cucumbers, went flying everywhere. Down this aisle. Down that aisle. Underneath shelves. It had turned out even better than what Estelle had ever anticipated.
Furious with the little delinquent’s clumsiness, the Indian shop keeper abandoned his counter at the front of the store and ran over to Gayle immediately who now sat in floods of fake tears right in the middle of the mess. Meanwhile, Estelle and David hovered around outside, waiting for their opportunity to jump in and do their thing.
“Hey? What the bloody hell is going on there?” the shopkeeper roared at Gayle.
Right on cue, and doing exactly what her sister had told her, Gayle burst into more tears and a fit of roaring sobs, crying out for her Mummy before deliberately mumbling words that she was lost and scared and didn’t know what to do or where to go.
The shop keeper changed his tune instantly from angry business man to sympathetic, caring friend. Who could ever be mad at such a cute, adorable, sweet innocent little nine-year-old girl with tears of sorrow streaming down her cheeks?
“It’s okay. Don’t cry now, little girl. It was just an accident. Everything is going to be okay,” continued the shopkeeper as he tried his best to comfort Gayle by patting her shoulders and head.
“Why don’t you help me pick this mess up, then we will go and try to find your mummy, okay? How does that sound?” the shopkeeper continued with a big cheesy cheerful grin.
Gayle gently nodded and without words wiped away her crocodile tears. She began helping the shop keeper pick up all of the scattered fruit and veg. But deliberately taking her time to do so.
At the front of the store, Estelle and David, trying their best to contain their laughter and not make a single sound, swiftly slipped in behind the counter and rapidly began filling their trousers and jacket pockets with as much cash as they could greedily grab from the till, along with dozens of packets of cigarettes from the shelves behind.
Once their pockets and hands were full, Estelle and David rushed out of the shop and bolted like lightening down a nearby dark alleyway at the far end of the street. While David hid with the cash and fags behind a large dumpster at the end of the filthy alley, Estelle hurried back to the shop again to collect her sister who had performed brilliantly in her eyes. Inside, Gayle was still eagerly helping the shop keeper pick everything up from the shop floor.
“There you are, Gayle!” cried Estelle with a deep, angry frown while placing her hands on her hips for a more dramatic effect. “Sorry. We thought she was bloody lost.”
Estelle was very convincing too, a natural actress who did a grand job of giving Gayle a hard time for running away from her before dragging her out onto the street again.
Back in the alleyway Estelle, David, and Gayle counted their cash with the biggest cat who just got the best damn cream grins upon their faces.
“I did good, aye?” asked a beaming Gayle.
“Very good, little sis,” replied Estelle, who really was immensely proud of her. “Very fucking good, in fact. We’ll need to take you out of school and bring you along on our crime sprees more often.”
Gayle looked delighted with that comment. It made her day. Estelle and David then lit up a cigarette each and began puffing away as they continued to count their earnings. Of course, Gayle was eager to get a shot of whatever her cooler older sister was doing or trying out too, and swiftly stuck her own hand out asking to try the little burning, smoking stick dangling between her sister’s lips.
“Can I try one of them, please?”
“Piss off. They’re not for kids,” snapped Estelle. “Plus, you won’t like it anyways. Tastes like shit.”
“So why are you doing it then?” Gayle quickly retorted.
It was one thing stealing cigarettes from unsuspecting shop keepers, but there was no way in hell she was ever going to let her little nine-year-old kid sister smoke one. No way, Jose. She did have some morals about her, or so she believed.
“And they’ll stunt your growth.” David happily chirped in with his ten pence. Estelle couldn’t help but laugh at David’s ridiculous comment. Even though they were exactly the same age, David was a good foot shorter than Estelle. He wasn’t even particularly tall for his age either. Not even average.
“Speak for yourself, short-arse.” Estelle insulted him right back. She knew how much David hated being called short-arse. It was by far the biggest button she could push of his. And every now and then she just loved to push it for her own self-amusement. If it had been anyone else to call him such a thing though, no matter how big or strong they might be, he would have punched them square in the face. Or at least tried his damn best to.
“Fuck you. Don’t ever call me that!” David retaliated, clearly irritated by the remark.
“Hey, that’s not true.” Gayle also chimed in.
“Yes, it is.” Estelle replied. “You’ll stay the size of a smurf for the rest of your life if you smoke one of these. Just like short-arse here.”
Estelle chuckled harder again, which had more to do with the sullen look on David’s face as he fell into a deep, brooding sulk
A firm “Fuck you,” was all he could muster as he took another long hard draw from his fag.
“So why are you so tall then?” Gayle asked her sister.
“Just think how tall I could’ve been,” Estelle replied with a brazen wink.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a gang of four lanky and bulky teenage boys, all around the age of fifteen, appeared out of nowhere to confront the trio at the back of the dark alleyway. As they emerged from the shadows, the leader of the hardened pack, a bad ass alpha boy by the name of Luke, stepped intimidatingly close to Estelle.
Estelle didn’t budge an inch though or even look the slightest bit worried or intimidated by the larger boy’s presence. She knew his face and was vaguely aware of Luke’s bad boy reputation and trouble-making antics around the neighborhood. Luke, on the other hand was not the slightest bit aware of Estelle’s reputation… yet. Or else him and his gang of thugs might have had second thoughts or even took a little more caution and care when sneaking up on them.
David and Gayle took a fearful step back, almost like they were trying to take cover and cower behind the steely Estelle, who David knew would more than likely fight dirty as hell and to the brink of death if anyone ever cornered her like the wild animal she was. He’d seen it all before with his own eyes. Gayle, on the other hand, had not seen her older sister’s darker side. Even with all their troubles at home.
“Thanks for counting our money, bitches. Now hand it over. Cigarettes too,” said the smarmy, arrogant Luke.
Gayle must have read the unphased ‘couldn’t give a shit’ aura that Estelle was radiating like an overused high school boiler in the middle of winter, because she suddenly felt a growing urge to both mimic and impress her older sister. And before Estelle even began to move her lips in order to sprout out her next sentence, which was only to politely inform the braindead hulk standing way too close to her to kindly piss the hell off and do one, Gayle unexpectedly jumped in first.
“No chance, dick face! This our money. Now do one.”
Estelle appeared a little taken aback by her sister’s ballsy stance and with the surprising distraction, briefly let her guard down to admire the guts of her little sis.
Luke, on the other hand, just unleashed a hardy, mocking laugh.
“Fuck you, you cheeky little punk bitc
h,” replied Luke, almost choking on his words, clearly not used to anyone out of a police uniform standing up to him, let alone a skinny, little nine year old girl.
Without hesitating to mull over what the consequence of his next actions might be, just like all hyper hormonal teenage boys, Luke swiftly lashed out at Gayle, punching her hard in the ribs and sending her slamming against the hard steel dumpster beside her. The way Gayle went down and hit the deck like a little rag doll, Luke and his gang of delinquents couldn’t stop laughing their heads off in hysterics. It was the funniest thing they’d seen in months.
Estelle saw red immediately though. She looked absolutely livid, full of more rage than she’d ever felt before in her whole damn life. Without fear or hesitation, she whipped out her hidden flick knife from her jacket pocket and stabbed Luke hard and fast in his right thigh, then in another rapid moment, again in his left thigh, all before he’d even finished laughing out.
Luke hadn’t expected such a fast retaliation or violent blow in the slightest. Especially from a girl his own age. He wasn’t prepared for the attack, and his howling screams of agony laid witness to that as he collapsed to the hard, wet ground in a bundling heap of arms, legs, and blood.
David took his cue and attacked the second closest gang member, another tall but less bulky boy than Luke. The solid lad was ready for him though and instantly blocked his blow before punching David down hard.
The lad made the mistake of lingering too long and arrogantly bathing in the full glow of his delight at flooring David so easily. This left him open and totally unprepared for Estelle’s next devastating move. By the time David hit the deck, she’d already pounced upon his aggressor. Plunging her three-inch blade in three short sharp bursts right into him. Once in his shoulder then once again in both arms, right then left, straight into his elbow joints, so that he couldn’t even raise either arm to throw another punch.
The big lad fell to the ground howling in agony right alongside his leader, Luke. The third and fourth gang members swiftly shat themselves. They didn’t know what to do or which way to turn and run; they looked so horrified and panicked. All they could think to do was throw their hands straight up in the air in surrender before quickly backing away from the lunatic, knife-happy girl as she threatened them over and over again with her bloodied blade while roaring out in that familiar lioness rage of hers.
The remaining two boys looked absolutely terrified. They had seen nothing like Estelle before in their lives and because she was a young girl, it made it all the more shocking for them to take in. It was that insane, fiery rage in her eyes more than anything else that put the fear of god into them. That look of horror that said, I will die in this alleyway before I back down from you bastards.
The other two bloodied and fallen lads soon scrambled back up onto their feet, only to back away in shock and terror as they let their two unharmed mates begin helping them limp and scurry off, back out of the alleyway.
Estelle managed a few more hard kicks to the stomach and legs of the two wounded boys before they were finally dragged well out of range. All of them with their little manly tails firmly wedged between their squeaking backsides.
“Crazy fucking whore!” Luke cried like thunder once he’d finally put enough distance between himself and Estelle, while at the same time desperately trying to stem the flow of blood from his legs. “You’re dead. You hear me? You’re fucking dead bitch!”
As the gang of male youths evacuated the alleyway as fast as their little legs could carry them, Estelle finally put her knife back into her pocket. She took a few deep breaths to calm her nerves along with the adrenaline that now raced through her body at a million miles an hour. She offered her hand to David, who was still sitting, beaten and sore upon the damp, smelly floor. He reluctantly took it while nursing his bruised jaw and ego with his free hand.
“You okay?” asked Estelle with a sly smirk on her face.
“Just fucking fantastic.” David replied in his best tone of sarcasm.
Secretly though, he was so fucking happy to be best friends with Estelle. She was absolutely fearless and a pure mental headcase when it came down to it. Estelle turned to her sobbing little sister, who was still lying curled up on the alleyway floor and holding her sore ribs like nothing had ever hurt so bad before in her entire life.
“You all right there, wee smurf?”
Gayle continued to sob while Estelle helped drag her up onto her feet. She crouched down to pick up her dropped cigarette and handed it over to her little sister. Something that she never dreamed she’d ever do.
“Here. Take this, wee munchkin,” Estelle said with a mischievous grin. “It will make everything feel better again. I promise.”
Gayle just stared quizzically hard at her older sister before reaching out to take the half-smoked fag.
Back on the train, a smile almost broke out across Estelle’s stern, hardened face as she continued to gaze dreamily out of the window at the passing hills and fields. They had just crossed over the Scottish border and Glasgow central station was only an hour or so away.
Chapter 6
Inside the vibrant old, gothic-looking Glasgow Central Station, Estelle was one of the first to disembark the train with her hoody still up. Thankfully she hadn’t any altercations with any of the passengers on board who had severely tested her nerves.
She’d been pretty damn close though with the rugby players, that’s for sure, but in the end, she’d found another quieter seat a few carriages down and had enjoyed a peaceful last half hour train ride into the grim city of industry.
She only had a small rucksack dangling over her shoulder as she walked out of the station through the Hope Street exit before strolling a few hundred yards southwards towards Argyle Street. It was raining, as it usually did in Glasgow no matter what time of year. Not heavy, just more of a light, diagonally slashing drizzle. It felt warm though. Unusually warm.
The surrounding city center streets seemed buzzing though from what she’d seen and heard so far with a quick little glance eastbound, down Argyle Street and underneath the dark, foreboding, and seedy-looking Argyle Street, Central station underpass where the main shopping retail district really began. Hustling and bustling with its usual array of manic shoppers, street sellers, junkies, homeless, and general corner-hanging vagabonds.
Estelle walked another hundred or so yards in the opposite direction, westwards towards the Alexander Thomson Hotel where she had booked a room for two nights. Secretly though, she only hoped to be there for one.
Estelle checked into the rundown Victorian hotel which looked as old and gritty on the outside as the streets that surrounded it. She’d never been inside the place before, only passed it by every so often as a kid without even a second glance at its looming brickwork, but it had always looked cheap, quiet, and convenient with its very central appeal.
It also had a twenty-four-hour walk-in/walk out reception which was another added bonus. Estelle didn’t need nosy hotel night porters or receptionists knowing or enquiring about her comings and goings throughout the day and night, so it was perfect for her needs and wants. Not that she would be spending much time in her room anyhow. It was just a place to store her things and lay her head down for a few hours’ kip when needed. A recharge point, so to speak.
Up on the fifth floor, inside her single room, Estelle put her rucksack down upon the bed. She opened it up and raked through the equipment inside. In amongst the hand guns and ammo at the very bottom of the bag were a selection of her favored weapons: knives. There were no change of clothes or sanitary wash products. Just weapons and more weapons, just in case, the thought lingered in the back of her mind... Just in case.
Wearing her hoody up once more, Estelle took a walk out onto the wet and humid City Center streets of Glasgow and made her way eastbound down Argyle Street. She stopped at a small newsagent halfway along the central station underpass to buy a pack of cigarettes and a pair of sunglasses.
She felt prett
y damn sure she’d robbed the same shop back in her delinquent days, and by the look of the old Asian shopkeeper sitting behind the counter, he might still the same owner. Just a few years older and a little greyer. Of course, he never recognized the dramatically changed Estelle in the slightest. Just another hard-steely face in the crowd of thousands who frequented his shop every day of the week.
Back on the street, Estelle casually slipped on her cheap sunglasses and lit up her first cigarette since Egypt. She took a deep, hard draw, embracing the rush of nicotine through her veins before it made the sweet little pit stop right in the middle of her skull.
Estelle never smoked at all when she was home alone with her family. She never felt the urge to do so. To come and go from the habit whenever she pleased, without the withdrawal symptoms or mood swings, well she always put that down to the discipline of her job and the long, hard years of brutal, savage training she’d had.
When she was travelling away from home and finding herself spending so much time alone, it became like a little habit of convenience that just came naturally to her. Almost like it was a required part of her job. She put it down to the fact that she was always waiting around for someone or following a target somewhere. She learned quickly over the years that standing around in public places, if you weren’t smoking a cigarette or playing around on your phone, or texting and calling somebody somewhere, then you’d quickly catch some member of the public’s attention.
People just didn’t stand around anymore doing nothing in the middle of the street. Standing around waiting and watching without a visible cause or reason created far too much suspicion in the eyes of the passer by. It wasn’t the normal thing to do in this day and age of technology and huge rise of public paranoia with all the fake news and constant barrage of terrorist attacks circulating the globe.
Cold Heart Page 7
