Doctor Who_ Combat Rock - Mick Lewis [9]
Whoring was his life. Apart from killing of course. What else was there? Whorin’, drinkin, killin’...
Whores. Bless ‘em.
But inside there was always the sadness.
The man’s voice was brick-hard and tinged with an accent Jamie vaguely recognized. Somewhere from Earth. Maybe south-west. It didn’t matter.
‘You shouldnae treat the lasses that way.’ Was he mad?
The man looked like he could tear Jamie apart with just his thumbs. He knew Wina was watching, and that spurred his courage. Now the other girl was staring at him too, her hands still clutching the Earth man’s arm. Her eyes lit up when she sensed the trouble that was obviously brewing. Her lips parted with excitement, showing perfect white teeth. Jamie tried not to look at her, attempting to stare out the taller man... who was laughing.
‘Boy! I like your spirit. You’ve got balls. Now go on back to your mummy before I hurt ya.’
Jamie stretched himself to his full height, which was still a good few inches shorter than his opponent. ‘I’m just asking you to be a bit more careful with yon lass here. That’s all.’ He was damned if he was going to back away. The skein dhu in his ankle sock suddenly felt very reassuring.
‘Pan, he just a boy.’ This was from the girl clinging to the older man. Jamie glared at her indignantly.
‘I’m no boy, lass!’ he boomed with as much machismo as he could manage.
The man called Pan scratched his chin with a mocking smirk on his face. ‘You don’t want me to kill him?’ he asked the girl, never taking his eyes off Jamie.
The girl caressed his arm soothingly. ‘He only trying protect me, I think.’
‘All the more reason to strip him down to the bone, cheeky young cock.’
‘I’m no’ scared o’ you, ye bully!’ Jamie retorted, clenching his fists.
‘Please no fight. Jamie, come dance with me.’ He turned and Wina was beside him, mirroring Pan’s girlfriend by putting her hand on the young Scot’s arm. Jamie looked at her uncertainly.
‘Hey, whore!’ Pan growled at Wina. ‘You want to try out a real man and not just a kid in a dress?’
Jamie would have swung his fist, but Wina threw herself between the two. Pan was laughing again, and the laugh followed Jamie as he allowed himself to be dragged reluctantly to the far side of the nightclub.
‘I should have whacked the sassenach!’ he grumbled furiously. ‘He had no right to call you that.’ His anger abated slightly when Wina took his hand in hers. ‘Please no trouble with this man. Not good man. Always fighting, fighting.
Always with bad women.’
‘Aye, well, he’d just better watch himself,’ Jamie said,flexing his shoulders defensively and glancing back across the club as Wina led him to a table. He sat down with his new-found companion opposite. Just looking at her made him regain his good mood. She was a rare beauty and no mistake. He wondered again what Victoria would make of her, and if the two would get on. There was something ageless and mysteriously exotic about the dark-skinned girl, although she couldn’t be that much older than Jamie himself. Maybe in her early twenties. So natural and unselfconscious as opposed to the propriety and mannered behaviour of poor old Victoria.
Not that he held it against his travelling companion of course.
He loved her like a sister. She couldn’t help her strait-laced Victorian upbringing, and she’d certainly been through so much personal hardship and tragedy that he’d never in a million years begrudge her her slightly prim ways. But Wina was such a refreshing change...
Pan flung his companion’s arm away as if she was diseased and furiously strode over to the bar. He should have torn that little sprat apart. And then dragged the boy’s whore off to his own bed. Now he looked stupid, as if he’d let the younger man get one over on him. His girl followed him to the bar. He rounded on her.
‘What d’you want?’ he bellowed. ‘Always following me like a dog. Go find yourself someone else to worry, you hooker.’
The girl’s dark eyes flashed dangerously. ‘Santi no working girl!’ she spat. ‘Why you say like that?