Ammunition

12

Coleman was charged with happy slapping, termed… an attack on the private rights of an individual… incitement to public disorder and… more serious, an assault on a police officer. They threw in resisting arrest to round it off.

A solicitor was called and three hours later, Coleman was released on bail, due to appear in magistrates’ court in a month. His brief said:

‘You’ll have to do jail time, I might be able to plea bargain that you didn’t realize the woman was a cop, but I won’t lie to you, they’re keen to make an example of a Happy Slapper, you’ll have to serve at least a year.’

Coleman, still in shock, made his way out of the station, to the taunts of various cops, who shouted:

‘Smile, you’re on Candid Camera.’

He ran into Falls on the steps, asked:

‘Why… why are you doing this to me?’

Falls, feeling like Brant was speaking for her, said:

‘Because I can.’

Coleman stared at her for a minute, resolving to get this bitch, one way or another. He stumbled down the steps, feeling like he might pass out, his whole life had gone down the toilet. He looked back at Falls, said:

‘It’s me twenty-first birthday today.’

She gave him a wide-eyed look, said:

‘Say cheese.’

He did what you do when you’re suddenly fucked out of the blue, when your whole life has turned on sixpence, he went to the pub. He grabbed a stool at the counter, and for the life of him couldn’t get his mind into gear. He wanted a drink but didn’t know what to order. A woman took the stool beside him, said:

‘Can’t decide, huh?’

He looked at her, a gorgeous blonde, lovely face with very striking eyes. She added:

‘You poor lamb, you’ve had a terrible ordeal. Let me order for us.’

Her stress on us gave it a sultry sound, and to his amazement, he got a hard-on, put it down to shock. His frigging body didn’t know what was going on. The barman was all over her, leching openly at her full cleavage, lust reddning his cheeks, he drawled:

‘What will it be, darling?’

She rubbed her scarlet lips with her tongue, said:

‘Two large gins, with slim-line tonics. A girl has to watch her figure.’

The barman glanced at the young man who seemed to be totally zoned, said:

‘You got it, babe.’

She said:

‘And something for your own self, how would that be?’ That would be fucking hunky-dory.

Coleman had a hundred questions, but she cut him off, said:

‘Drink-ees first, then we’ll nice have a chat.’

He was happy to do that, asked:

‘Can I know your name?’

She gave a beautiful smile, said:

‘Sweetie, you can have whatever you want… I’m Angie.’