Parking the car was a nightmare. Everyone within a hundred miles who owned a car had brought it to Portsmouth. I was beginning to think it was personal! Finally, we found a space. For what they were charging, we could have rented a cabin on the Queen Mary, rip off didn't half cover it.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad.
part 208.

I slept well that night, no interruptions. I wasn't sure what was happening with Stella and Tom, they seemed as thick as thieves even though he was twice her age. It wasn't for me to say anything however, but I was intrigued.

The next morning I was up and showered ahead of Stella again, she'd got proper lazy since her little mishap. I think she was off until New Year, like many Christmas holidaymakers.

It was Thursday the twentieth of December, and I wasn't sure how much I was looking forward to going shopping with the range of lunatics who would be blocking my progress, equally distributed across the high street.

They come in all guises, men, women and children of all sizes, tongues and nationalities. What they have in common is their obviously practiced ability to get in the way. No matter what you want to do, pay for something, reach for something off a counter or from a rack, and they are there, blocking your access or your view. Or worse, occasionally taking the very thing you'd absolutely have to have, and of which it is the only unsold specimen in the entire universe. They grab it while you are day dreaming and, knowing that your time is limited take it off to the changing rooms where they hide while you stamp up and down outside wanting to kill them.

Most of the shopping I needed to do was food, and it was too early to buy Christmas food, it would be stale or gone off before the day. The dried stuff like flour and yeast I could get, and the odd tin of tuna but not much else.

I knew Stella wouldn't be interested in food shopping, she prefers high street stuff, if not haute couture, which is a little lacking in Portsmouth. There are one or two quality department stores and some quite nice boutique type shops, but there's more of the chain store type like everywhere else. I'm quite happy to wear chain store clothes, Stella is not. She does 'exceedingly good taste', so I forgive her, especially if I get first refusal on the cast offs.

Do men do this unofficial recycling, like women do? I hadn't noticed Simon and Tom swapping clothes, but then I wasn't looking for it. Maybe it's just a girl thing?

I had dressed fairly tidily, and was putting on my makeup when I heard Stella in her bathroom. I went down to have some breakfast. Tom was busy administering a percussive anaesthetic to a boiled egg before he tore off part of it's shell. It looked like he was doing brain surgery on Humpty Dumpty.

I sat down with a bowl of cereal and my cup of tea. He always managed to eat twice as much breakfast as I did, habit I suppose. It also explained why he was somewhat more rotund than I was.

Stella had just a cup of coffee and a slice of toast. I thought she usually ate more than that, but not today.

"So are we going shopping?" she addressed to me.

"As soon as I can get my body armour on," I smiled back at her.

"Watch out for pickpockets," commented Tom.

"Why do you want one for Christmas?" I asked.

"No we haven't finished the one you caught earlier, they are a bit chewey."

"Okay, I won't intercept any more."

"Not unless you want to get your name in the press again?"

"No way!" I said loudly.

I did think of taking a security purse I had, which you looped around your neck and under clothing. But it was too fiddly. You almost had to undress to pay for anything.

Stella had one of the bodybelt sort, but it didn't look as if she was wearing it.

Eventually, Tom shooed us off and agreed to do the dishes while we got ready and left. I put on some lippy and a squirt of smellies and was ready. Stella took a little longer.

Parking the car was a nightmare. Everyone within a hundred miles who owned a car had brought it to Portsmouth. I was beginning to think it was personal! Finally, we found a space. For what they were charging, we could have rented a cabin on the Queen Mary, rip off didn't half cover it.

Still maybe fate was still causing things to happen. As we walked past a particularly dark part of the building, we saw two large men harassing a woman.

"Come on Cathy, let's even things up here a little." Stella started trotting towards the trouble. "Hey you, leave her alone!" she called at them.

"Is this a good idea?" I asked no one in particular, trotting along behind. This didn't look like trifles at three paces, more like fists and feet.

One of the men struck the woman, the next moment Stella was on him, well next to him, and she did one of her kicks and knocked him down. His mate threw off the woman he had been holding and turned to face his attacker. He had done some martial arts, because Stella and he walked around each other like two tom cats sizing each other up. He'd obviously seen what befell his pal and wasn't going to take any chances.

Finally in slow motion they attacked and counter attacked. His strength told and I saw Stella buckle and fall as he landed a kick to her abdomen.

I had been a bit wary of getting involved, seeing the odds as too one sided against us. They were still that way, I was certainly no match for the remaining thug.

Size does matter, so does surprise. I had blown up when Stella got hurt, I saw everything through a red mist, I was so angry. I ran in, somersaulted over a car bonnet and brought both feet into contact with his chest. He flew over the bonnet of another car.

I stood up and he came raging back, he swung at me. It was rather wild and I ducked stepped inside him, turned and caught him under the heart with my elbow, turned again and using the same elbow caught him under the chin. He lost some teeth and went down like a stone.

I went to see to Stella, she was propped up and shaking her head. "Where did you learn to fight like that?"

"I learned a thing or three in school, but most of that was improvised. How are you?"

"Sore, check out their victim." Despite her protests I helped her to her feet. She sat on the bonnet of my car getting her breath back.

"Are you okay?" I asked the frightened looking woman, who shook her head and kept saying, "Nyet." Her face was bruised and her mouth looked like it was bleeding.

"This is Lady Stella Cameron, please send officers to the multi-storey carpark. We have interrupted an assault by two men upon a woman. She is foreign, probably East European, perhaps Russian. We have detained the men, please hurry, they look violent."

They both lay groaning on the floor of the carpark and the sirens were heard getting closer. The Russian woman, looked to hobble away but I restrained her. Finally the police arrived and Stella took command.

"These two men were assaulting this lady, whom we think to be Russian or from a baltic state. We asked them to desist and they attempted to assault us. I knocked the one down before his friend did the same to me, and Cathy took him out after shouting a warning to him to stop and desist."

"Gee whizz ladies, how the hell did you knock them down? We know these two, they are real sleaze bags."

"Kick boxing," said Stella and pointed to groaner number one."

"Bristolian Street Fighting," I said and shrugged my shoulders.

"I thought that was usually with a bottle?" said the copper.

"Couldn't find one, had to improvise. Cor my elbow is sore," it was too.

"Can you call by the station a bit later to give a statement. These two are really nasty, we have warrants out on them for skipping bale and so on. I suspect this lady is one of the human traffic they bring in from Eastern Europe."

"What for prostitution?" I asked not even wondering what they were squabbling about. For all I knew it was over the colour of Christmas crackers.

"Fraid so madam, it's big business. Little Olga here is recruited for a hostess job, thinking it's about rubbing shoulders with rich businessmen, instead it's sexual slavery to a gang of pimps. They make millions out of it. The girls get all sorts of nasty diseases or become druggies to cope with the violation from the gangs and their customers."

"How can men have sex with women if they suspect it's under coercion?" I asked.

"For some it's a turn on."

"That is disgusting!" I spat.

"I quite agree Lady Catherine."

"How do you know who I am?"

"You were in the paper the other week catching that bag snatcher. I saw the footage. You two are like Batman and Robin, but I think you'd better scoot now and leave it to the professionals."

We didn't need telling again. However, instead of shopping, we went home. Stella was sore and I was concerned for her after her previous problem.

We drove home, my elbow was really hurting and Stella looked quite pale.

"Where did you learn to do that?" she asked intrigued by my burst of aggression.

"Told you, Bristol Street fighting. Years ago they had race riots and things in St Pauls in Bristol. Then it calmed down but the troubles were replaced with gangs. I regularly watched them in school fighting each other. It was all about speed and agility.

Then my father wanted me to be a man and kept trying to force me to do boxing or judo or something. I did something, I enrolled for a crash course in Street Fighting.

It follows one rule, 'Your Survival is all.' After that anything goes. They teach you how to use your environment to your advantage, how to get in close make a few shots and get out again."

"Which was exactly what you did. You must have practised all this many times."

"You're joking, I made it up as I went along, and I only did it because I was seriously pissed when they hurt you. I don't go around hitting people, ugh! Horrid!"

Stella sat there with her mouth wide open in surprise.