The dark haired boy moved nimbly among the throng of commuters that had disembarked from the local metro. He moved with experience and his slippery fingers briefly delved into a nearby handbag. The purse was lifted within seconds and Alan, with a feeling of suspenseful elation, quickly transferred it to his own left hand pocket.
Someone bumped into him in the moving crowd then suddenly an arm snaked out of nowhere to snatch Alan's wrist. Two coppers...
"What do we have here?" The taller one sneered, gripping painfully on Alan's arm.
"Nothin' sir, just minding my own business like, and then..." Alan started with a cheery smile.
"Just give it over," the other cop said. His eyes were tracking the progress of Alan's victim and they had a wary glint about them, as if he was worried that the lady would notice that she had been relieved of her cash.
Alan sighed. Everyone knew that in Nottingham the cops were the worse crooks. He still tried vainly. "I don't know what ya on about..."
The officer clutching his wrist rolled his eyes and snatched at Alan's left pocket.
"Hey!" Alan cried indigently, with a sinking feeling in his stomach.
Surprisingly however, the cop came up empty handed. His face was one of disbelief. This look was mirrored on his colleague's but they were starting to attract a crowd, so with a curse he released Alan's arm.
"Thank you officers," Alan said with mock civility, although still stunned at his good fortune.
The cops scowled at him but left. When they had gone he put his hands into his pockets...empty, but how?
"Looking for this?"
Alan turned to see a boy about his age and height holding out the purse. He recognised him as the person who had 'bumped' into him from before.
"Isn't it a little feminine for you?" His voice was tinged with amusement.
"Well, beggars can't be choosers," Alan said with a guilty smile.
The other boy smiled but he handed the purse over, to Alan's surprise.
"Errr...thanks."
"Rather you than them," the other boy replied to Alan's unspoken question. "That was some impressive lifting and they were just going to freeload off your work. I'm Robin, by the way." He said falling into step with him as they left the station.
"Alan." They walked in silence for a while.
"I haven't seen you around here before," Alan commented. Robin was dressed conservatively so that he could be from the well off end and be wearing non-labels or from the poor end and not be too badly off.
"Nahh...I used to live here four years ago, but I just moved back last week."
"So where did you move to?" Alan was curious about Robin, he had never met anyone quite like the green eyed boy. "That was some pretty impressive lifting yourself, I never felt you picking my pocket. Where did you learn to do that?"
Robin laughed a deep, carefree laugh. "Washington."
"America?"
"Uhuh."
Alan whistled appreciatively. "Why'd you come back to this hell hole?"
Robin shrugged but didn't answer. They turned down Sherwood Road with its vandalised sign.
"Are you following me home?" Alan asked. The other boy laughed.
"You live two doors down from me."
"Oh...how'd you know that?"
"Much told me."
"Much? Much Miller...that scrawny, whiny kid?" Alan asked.
Robin snorted. "Yep."
"Robin!" The scrawny, whiny kid dressed in worn knitwear and wearing glasses came running up to the two boys and bent over breathing heavily. "Alan."
"Hey Much," Robin said warmly. "What's up?"
"Where have you been?"
Alan laughed. Much sounded like his mother.
"Meeting friends, exploring..." Robin responded as they continued walking.
"You're hopeless," Much mumbled as they walked down the worn sidewalk. Broken down cars littered the overlong patches of grass on the verge of broken down houses. The housing commission had pulled out long ago and declared the area unsolvable. Windows were smashed, beer cans crowded the sidewalk and thin families went about 'living'.
"How did things get so bad, Much?" Robin asked.
"What'd ya mean?" Alan asked kicking an errant beer can.
"The police never used to be like this, and I mean this..." Robin gestured at the ghetto around them. "I know this area never used to be this crowded."
Alan snorted, "and how would you know that?"
Robin cocked an eyebrow at him.
"I know who you are now, Robert Locksley. You're from up at the Manor...all hoity-toity."
Robin actually laughed out loud causing several small children playing on the verge to look up in surprise. "Alan, do me a favour and say 'hoity-toity' again." Much merely looked indignant that Alan had gotten off so easy. "I did use to live up on Manor but me mum, she volunteered at the soup kitchen and I used to go with her."
"The Locksley's were really into charity," Much said loyally which set Robin off laughing again.
"I'm honoured that you're slumming with us now," Alan grumbled but he couldn't deny that the kid had style. It was hardly his turf and yet he seemed as confident and at ease as if he was walking down Manor Street.
"So what happened?" Robin asked referring to his original question.
"Politics," Alan muttered darkly.
"Huh?"
"You know how the PM's out of the country – dealing with some global emergency over in the Middle East or some such," Much explained.
"Vaguely."
"Well his Party kind of took a straggle hold. They declared all these new laws – started with the terrorist laws and before anyone knew...well we were here. No Social welfare and the new Chief of Police – the Sheriff – he's based here in Nottingham and he's the worst of them all."
"Sound like things need to change," Robin said with a distant look.