“Where to first?”
“Just keep walkin’ straight, then we’ll walk up and down each aisle,” Bronagh answered. “There’s an unspoken rule about things bein’ one way in this shop. Anyone who walks the wrong way will just have to wait until I walk by to get around me because I’m not movin’ for anyone.”
“Okay, mama bear,” I appeased. “Your way or the motorway.”
Bronagh chuckled tiredly. She then pointed out what items she wanted me to pick up and put into the trolley as we approached them. We did this for thirty minutes. I answered ten calls from Nico during that time. The poor man would need to be sedated once this child was born because his nerves were fried. We had just come to the cereal aisle when I noticed an overweight, middle-aged man leering at Bronagh.
An uncomfortable chill ran up my spine, and my protective instinct kicked in. I moved over and stood directly in front of her, blocking her as much as I could. When I glanced at the man once more, his roaming eyes were now on me, and it didn’t take a genius to guess what disgusting thoughts were running through his mind.
“Let’s go.”
“Wait,” Bronagh said. “What’s nicer, Cornflakes or Special K?”
“Just get both.”
My friend frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“The man behind us,” I mumbled. “He is lookin’ at us in a way that’s makin’ me skin crawl.”
To her credit, Bronagh tried to be discreet as she glanced his way, but when she caught sight of him and saw for herself how he was ogling us, her face dropped.
“He’s creepy.”
I agreed.
“Let’s just go,” I mumbled. “I don’t like how he is lookin’ at us.”
She tossed both boxes of cereal into the trolley, and together, we walked away. When we reached the till and glanced back over our shoulders, we both released a sigh of relief when we saw that the man hadn’t followed us. Logically, I knew he was most likely harmless, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that settled over me when I realised that he was watching us.
After we checked out all our items, we put them into carrier bags, popped them into the trolley, and left the shop. We had just cleared the exit and turned the corner only to have the creepy man step in front of our trolley and cause us to come to an abrupt halt. I grabbed Bronagh’s forearm and held on.
“Excuse us,” I said. “We’d like to get by, please.”
“You’re both real pretty,” he said, and when he spoke, I could see how yellow his teeth were. “Real pretty.”
“Thank y-you,” I stammered. “But we have to go.”
I tried to turn the trolley to move around the man, but he stepped back in front of us. That was the moment I knew this was a bad situation, and it wasn’t going to have a good outcome.
“I have a husband,” Bronagh blurted the lie with ease. “And so does she.”
The man looked between us.
“You both really playin’ the married card?”
“We are married,” Bronagh pressed. “I’m pregnant with me second child, as if you can’t see that for yourself.”
The man didn’t move a muscle.
“Pregnant women fetch a high price on the streets.”
Excuse me?
“Please, leave us alone,” I asked him, my voice soft. “We’re just ‘ere to do some shoppin’.”
“I can offer ye’ both jobs,” he spoke, ignoring me completely. “I can make ye’ both wealthy women. All ye’ have to do is join me entertainment business.”
Entertainment business?
“We don’t want to work for ye’,” I said, my voice firm. “We aren’t—”
“You have a big mouth.” The man cut me off. “I bet you can deep throat. That earns me worker’s big tips.”
“Workers?” Bronagh repeated. “What are you talkin’ about?”
“Women of the night.” The man grinned. “Or day. Whenever you get a body between your thighs, really.”
“Prostitution?” I choked. “We are not gonna be prostitutes!”
What the fuck kind of conversation is this?
“Don’t raise your voice at me,” the man snapped.
Bronagh pushed the trolley forward, and it smacked the man’s thigh and sent him stumbling back.
“Clear off!” she warned. “We don’t want no part of your business.”
“You’ll fuckin’ pay for that!”
When he turned and stormed away, my heart was pounding erratically.
“We have to leave!” I stressed to Bronagh. “I feel sick.”
“Me too,” Bronagh agreed.
Together, we hustled across the car park, only to come to an abrupt halt when we saw a black-haired woman and a red-haired woman jogging towards us with the fat man huffing and puffing as he trailed behind them.
“Oh God.”
I scrambled for my phone, and when I rooted it out of my bag, I called Nico straight away. He answered on the second ring.
“Nico?”
“Alannah?” he said. “What’s up?”
“We need help,” I said, my voice gruff. “A man was bein’ creepy towards us in the shop so we told ‘im off, and now we’re in the car park and he is ‘ere with two women who I think are goin’ to fight us. I’m afraid I won’t be able to protect Bronagh. She can’t get to the car without them gettin’ ‘er first.”