Feral!

Chapter 5

5

Hannah Platt followed her mum into the kitchen. "What was all that about? Dad, why did you say that to him out there? You practically called him a silly twat." She leaned on the battered old counter.

Her dad waved her off, dismissing her question. "What? No, I didn't. I said, if he parks like a t**t, I'll give him a ticket. I didn't say he does, did I?" He opened the refrigerator and took out a can of 7-Up. "He can take it any way he likes."

With a tut, Hannah went into the fridge and took out a can of Diet Coke. Pulling the ring pull back, she took a swig. "I thought you told mum you'll reserve judgement."

"I did, until I met them. And now I have." Instead of staying to argue, her dad marched out of the kitchen, up the stairs to the lounge on the first floor.

Her bedroom was also on the first floor, but Hannah followed her dad into the sitting room, where he sat on the carpet and picked up his headphones. "Why are you like this? You can't get on with people, can you? You have to find something you hate about them. What is it with Callum, huh? What? Too tall for you? Too muscley? You don't like the way he talks? What is it?" He infuriated her so much.

"He's a scumbag, Hannah, alright? You saw them out there. The sons act like they're his g**g members. Not a smile among them. Not even the daughter smiled. Tony agrees, don't you?"

Her mum and brother stood in the doorway. "We thought they were lovely, didn't we, mum?” Hannah asked. “We're going to be nice to them."

"Yeah, and we know why, don't we? You fancy the youngest lad, what's his name?"

Hannah regarded her brother. "Benji."

"Oh my God! You do. You like one of the roughest boys in town. Dad, tell her he's bad news, would you? He'll use you and throw you away, believe me, Han. Please stay away from him. They're bad news, the lot of them."

"He's right, Han. Don't get involved with that Benji boy," her dad ordered. "Stick to lads at your college or something, alright?"

She glanced over at her mum, who nodded in agreement. "Oh my God! You too? How about you all mind your own who I see! I'm almost eighteen. You won't be able to stop me when I am. I'll go out with whoever I want, when I want."

As her parents complained in unison, she stormed off towards her mum and brother, who sidestepped, giving her room. Her dad called after her. She turned to find him approaching. "And you haven't been around long enough to bark orders at me!"

She slammed the door, turned the key, and sulked, leaning on the windowsill, while watching the comings and goings next door.

"Hannah! Open this door, now." Her mum was angry. "You can't speak to your dad like that. He's doing his best by us. His absence wasn't his fault. Let me in!"

Who the hell did he think he was? He’d uprooted them five years earlier, pulling her out of her school at the age of twelve at a time when she had her clique of friends all sorted. And she'd had a couple of boys interested when her mum hit her with it. 'We're moving to Portsmouth for your dad's job.'

No one cared that she didn't even know her dad. Hannah had been two when he’d left home; how was she supposed to remember him? And her mum expected her to accept him as her dad, just like that? What planet was she on?

For the sake of her family, she went along with it, going from her hometown of Sheffield to this crummy old area of Pompey, Buckland.

She'd had rows with her dad since they moved here. At first, she'd been meek and mild around him, doing whatever he said like a dutiful daughter. When she turned fifteen and getting into boys, he tried putting his foot down, her mum backing him. Hannah wasn't one for following the rules, not at that age. She’d sneaked out at the first mention of a party.

Although her mum, dad, and brother stuck to the same bullshit story, Hannah had a feeling they weren't being honest with her about her dad's absence. They’d told her he'd had a nervous breakdown when she was two, that he'd spent those ten missing years recovering. When he’d returned to them, it was because he'd recuperated.

"Han, open up," Tony said through the door. "Come on. I didn't mean to tell you what to do. I wouldn't do that. Think of it as a suggestion."

With a sigh, Hannah dragged herself away from the windowsill. She unlocked and opened the door. "You're such a jerk." She let him in and he sat on her bed.

"And you watch too much American crap on TV," he teased her as she sat next to him. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to tell you what to do. I don't want you getting hurt, and you will if you start going out with a Bowman, trust me."

"Why? What do you know about them? It sounded like you knew that older one. And don't sugar-coat it. I'm not a little girl anymore. I can take care of myself."

Tony nodded. "I know, and I won't lie to you. Rob’s a nasty piece of work." He turned to her on the duvet. "You remember Darren, right? My mate from college?"

"Wait! Isn't he the one who got beaten up on Southsea Common?" She remembered it well because the savage beating had been all over the local news and at school.

"That's him. He's a great bloke. Anyway, three years ago, we were walking through Southsea Common when eight guys jumped us. There were only four of us, including Darren, who took the beating for us. While two of them kicked the s**t out of him, the rest stopped us from interfering. We had to stand there and watch as they kept on kicking him.

"You should've seen Rob, though. He was like a madman, his eyes big and crazed as he stamped on Darren's arms, legs, face. You name it, they kicked it. Rob's mates had to pull him off eventually, otherwise he'd have carried on."

"So, why didn't they go for your lot, too? Why only Darren?" It puzzled her.

Tony grimaced. "Well, it wasn't entirely unprovoked. He told me in his hospital bed that he’d slept with one of Rob’s friends' girlfriends, so it was revenge for that. We didn't know he'd done it, so we thought they’d just singled him out."

"All that over a girl? Really?" she asked. It was a bit naive, though, because she'd seen fights over girls and over boys. This beating sounded particularly brutal, though.

When Tony nodded, she stood, then walked over to the window. Benji was by the van. "Because his brother's a thug, that doesn't mean Benji is. Look at him, he's not built for fighting. He's a skinny beanpole."

Tony got up and followed her over to the window. "Don't let that fool you. Rob's not much bigger than Benji, and he can still do some damage."

Hannah turned to face her brother when her dad appeared, poking his head around the door and taking the key out of the lock.

"I'll be having this. There's no locks on any door in this house, except the front and back." He retreated out of her bedroom.

Instead of objecting to her dad's interference, Hannah chuckled.

Her brother joined her in laughing, then placed a hand on her shoulder, leaned in, and kissed the top of her head. "I trust you to make the right choice, Han. Just remember what I said. Benji comes from a violent family."

Hannah saw Tony out, closed the door, and sighed. Her brother was only trying to protect her, as was her dad, in his funny way. She shouldn't stay mad at her old man, though. He put up with a lot in his job to bring the money home. He'd proven to be helpful, too.

For the past ten months, after her seventeenth birthday, her dad had been teaching her to drive. Her mum said it would be good for them, make them closer. She was right, it had. Hannah was able to parallel park; she could perform a three-point turn, and she could perform an emergency stop. Her dad thought she was ready, as did her proper driving instructor. When she passed her driving test, it would in no small way be because of her dad.

On those chaotic drives with him, she'd noticed they had a very similar sense of humour. Dry, sarcastic. She’d wondered where hers came from because God only knew she didn't get it from her mum.

On her bed, Hannah's mobile rang: Naomi.

"Hey you, guess what?" she told her friend. She stared down at the van, where all three boys were picking up boxes. They had all taken their tops off. Hannah caught a glimpse of Benji's muscles when he walked back to the house. "The cutest guy's moved in next door. Yeah, I know. I doubt you'll know him. Ben Bowman?"

She listened to her best friend tell her a story about him, about how the reason the family had to move was because he’d had s*x with a thirteen-year-old girl. But Naomi also admitted that her source couldn't be trusted. It was most probably made up.

Benji came out of the house, walked up to the van, and retrieved a box. On the way back, he glanced up at her. Hannah hid behind the curtain. "Yeah, well, I don't care what he's done. He's cute."

15 MONTHS EARLIER

MARCH