While waiting in line at the job centre this afternoon, a man about my age, who has lost his job fitting kitchens, chats to me about the newspaper story of the old lady, who foiled a raid on a jewellery shop, by handbagging the robbers.
"Amazing old girl," he says, shaking his head in admiration, "even though they had a sledge hammer, she still tackled them, knocked one off his motor bike as he was making a getaway."
Suddenly it becomes noisy as the door opens and a group of about six 'twenty something's' make a loud entrance, pushing a baby in a buggy. One boy asks for forms to fill in for housing benefits, while a couple kiss passionately. The baby, that looks well cared for, cries and a dark haired girl tries to console it. A blonde girl fidgets with her mobile and as she turns to help with the baby, I notice she has a black eye and bruises on her cheek. She is talking agitatedly to the rest of the group, "If he comes down here, I'll punch him in the face," she says standing by the door so she can finish her cigarette and they all nod. Her mobile phone rings.
"Don't you dare come down here you b*****d," Black Eyed Girl yells, "just stay out of me shine!" (is that out of my way? face? I wonder).
Everybody is standing still, trying not to stare. George who is on reception, tries to quiet them down and they shuffle outside for a smoke. Another man, who is trying to read through the list of jobs posted on the board, shakes his head and raises an eyebrow at me. A young man with a lip piercing, waiting with me to 'sign on' shrugs, and looks nervously at his nails.
Seconds later, BEG returns with her friend, she is clearly agitated, her mobile is not working. She picks up the Freephone that we Job Seeker's can be use to call potential employers or social services and begins to tell whoever is on the other end to come quickly.
"He's threatenin' to kill me, she says beginning to cry, "he's coming down here now, you've got to do something! He's dragged me all over the house this morning she starts sobbing you better get here quick."
In hushed tones those of us waiting in line decide she has called the police. A strange calm descends and I get called to see my advisor.
I have only just sat down when the door opens and a man with a head wound and blood all over his face staggers in reeking of booze. Yelling incoherently he lurches at BEG who is clearly terrified. All those in earshot don't know what to do. Staff at desk stop what they are doing as he threatens to kill her when she comes out. BEG keeps putting her hand up screaming increasingly hysterically, "get out of me shine, get out of me shine!" A member of staff decides to call police and the man bounces off the door before going outside, where he half totters, half falls down the steps. Hearing shouts from outside we look out of the window where a huge man, wearing a cap sleeved tee shirt, which reveals tattooed Popeye arms, is squaring up to the the bald man. They hurl abuse at each other, a punch is thrown by bald man and a vicious brawl ensues.
"He deserves every bit of it," Black Eyed Girl says sobbing hysterically, "he did this to me this morning," she points to her face. "Burst me eye," We realise that when we thought that BEG was calling police she was actually calling her brother. We watch mesmerised with horror as street justice is handed out. No one dares to leave. They clearly don't want the police involved although they are on their way.
"Let them get on with it," BEG says. She wants to go out and intervene but we talk her out of it.
The man with the lip piercing next to me is quivering. "I'll miss me bus home," he says, "I just need to sign on."
The fight is now at top of car park and I'm desperate to go too.
"Will you girls be OK?" I ask. Looking at them standing cowering in doorway, they only look a year or two older than my daughters.
They shrug "think so, yeah thanks for askin'."
The bald man is now staggering up the middle of the road completely disorientated, face covered in blood. No one dares approach him until the police arrive. Tattoo man is walking away still yelling. Pedestrians look on helplessly and traffic is at standstill. As I drive away in state of shock, I think about the OAP hand bagging the robbers, know I would never have the nerve, I realise I have never seen this sort of violence close up. To the BEG and her friend it is a fact of life. I try not to think about what might have happened if either man had been armed. This is not inner city clubland at midnight, it is three in the afternoon outside the local Job Centre, in my historic market town.
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