The following night, we’re waiting at the bus stop on Ranelagh Road. Tash looks gorgeous in a short black dress, ankle boots and a bright pink leather jacket. I’m wearing leggings, Uggs and a hoodie.

We’ve only been there a couple of minutes – Tash is leaning against the shelf thing and I’m standing in front of her so we can talk quietly to each other – when I see the men from the pub walking towards us. The men from the pub the night before all this happened: White Shirt, Dirty Jeans and Hipster Beard.

White Shirt isn’t wearing a white shirt tonight – he’s wearing a salmon pink polo shirt, but he still has sunglasses pushed up on his head. Dirty Jeans is still in dirty jeans. And dirty boots. And a dirty long-sleeved t-shirt. And Hipster Beard has added hipster ironic spectacles and a – for fuck’s sake – fedora.

I stand very still, hoping they won’t see me. And then I realise that of course they can’t see me. But they can see Tash. And they do.

‘Alright, gorgeous?!’ Salmon Pink Polo Shirt shouts.

Tash ignores him, raising one eyebrow at me.

‘Oy!’ SPPS shouts. ‘I’ve seen you before, haven’t I?’

‘I don’t think so,’ Tash says, without turning to look at them.

The three of them have stopped just to the side of the bus stop. They’re standing in a row, blocking the pavement.

‘I think so,’ Dirty Jeans says. ‘In the pub. Yeah?’

‘No,’ Tash says. Her face is completely blank. She looks bored.

Hipster Beard takes a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket and holds one out to Tash. ‘Smoke?’

‘I don’t,’ she says.

‘Shame,’ SPPS says. ‘I bet you look good sucking on something.’

Tash rolls her eyes dramatically.

‘Down on your knees,’ SPPS says.

‘Seriously?’ Tash says. ‘You need better lines.’

‘We could go and do some lines, if you want,’ Hipster Beard says.

Dirty Jeans says something I don’t catch, but from the way the three of them laugh, it was something gross.

‘Come on,’ SPPS says to Tash. ‘Come and have a drink with us. Don’t be a bitch.’

‘I’m not being a bitch,’ Tash says, finally turning to look at them. ‘And I don’t want to have a drink with you. I’m waiting for a bus. Kindly fuck off and let me do it in peace.’

Dirty Jeans snorts, but I don’t like the look on SPPS’s face. For a second, I feel fear clench in my stomach. Tash is alone at the bus stop. Alone with three men. Even though it’s a busy road, I’m not convinced anyone would stop if something happened.

‘What did you say?’ SPPS says.

I look around and think about going for help. Could I use Tash’s phone? If I go and hide behind a wall—

‘Just leave it, eh?’ Tash says. ‘You know I’m not interested.’

And then I realise. And I feel like a complete idiot. I don’t need to go for help. I can totally deal with this myself.

‘I think you are,’ SPPS says. ‘I think you’d like to come to the pub with us. I think you look like a right dirty bitch.’

The other two laugh. Dirty Jeans actually grabs his crotch. Who are these dickheads?

I perch on the shelf next to Tash and lean against her so she knows I’m there.

‘It’s okay,’ she says, under her breath.

But it’s not. Of course it’s not. Usually, if something like this happened, I know I’d be scared and Tash would probably give them a load of shit and then they’d eventually fuck off and we’d be shaken and wouldn’t feel better until we were in the pub with a drink.

‘What?’ SPPS says to Tash. ‘Did you say something?’

But today it doesn’t need to be like that. Today, I can actually give them a taste of their own medicine.

‘No,’ Tash says. ‘I’m just waiting for the bus.’

I squeeze Tash’s arm and walk around the outside of the bus shelter, being careful of the traffic. I walk up behind the three men and reach up to knock Hipster Beard’s stupid fedora off his stupid head. It flies forward and he turns around and looks directly at me, a confused expression on his face. I suck in my breath – this would be a really bad time to become visible – but he’s just looking to see what knocked his hat off, he clearly can’t see me. He bends down to pick it up and I swing my leg back and kick him up the arse.

He stumbles forward, arms flailing, clearly trying to regain his balance, but he doesn’t manage it and he falls heavily to his knees.

‘What the fuck?’ SPPS says.

‘Was that you?’ Hipster Beard says, on his hands and knees, turning round to look at the other two men over his shoulder. I think about kicking him again, but instead I nip through the gap between the other two and stand in front of SPPS.

‘Get up, you prick,’ SPPS says.

Hipster Beard picks his hat up and puts it back on his head while he’s still on the ground and it falls off again as he clambers back up to standing.

‘What the fuck are you laughing at?’ SPPS says.

I look at Dirty Jeans, but he’s not laughing, so I turn to look at Tash. She’s not laughing, but she is smiling, her hand up and her fingers in front of her mouth.

‘Stupid bitch,’ Hipster Beard says as he finally gets himself upright again.

‘You can suck my dick,’ SPPS says.

‘I don’t think so,’ Tash says. She’s not smiling any more. She looks back down the street, past me, and I turn and see that the bus is coming.

Tash stands up, ready to signal the bus, and Dirty Jeans grabs her arm.

‘Get your hands off me,’ Tash says. Snarls, in fact.

‘What did you fucking say?’ SPPS says. Also snarls, actually.

I glance back at the bus and then I kick SPPS hard in the balls. Actually I don’t. I don’t quite manage it, I hit him mid-thigh, but as he yells, ‘What the fuck?!’ I kick him again and this time I hit the bullseye. He drops to his knees, both hands cradling his crotch. Dirty Jeans lets go of Tash to see what’s happened to SPPS and Tash says, ‘Izzy!’ and steps to the edge of the kerb to signal the bus.

The bus stops and I grab Tash’s hand and she pulls me on behind her. She heads straight up the stairs and I follow. I can see her shoulders shaking and I’m scared that she’s traumatised. I can’t wait to get upstairs so we can sit down and I can tell her everything’s okay. But as soon as she sits down – in the seat directly opposite the top of the stairs – she turns to me and I see that she’s crying with laughter.

‘Oh my god,’ she says, scooting along the seat and pressing her head against the window to look down at the bus stop. ‘I can’t believe—’

I slide into the seat behind hers so that I too can look out of the window. The three men are still there, of course. SPPS is standing again, but bent over, as if he’s winded. The other two are looking around with completely baffled expressions, as if it’s suddenly about to become clear who exactly hit them.

My hands are shaking and I curl them into fists. I’ve never hit anyone before, I don’t think. It felt good. That’s probably bad.

‘You were so fucking amazing,’ Tash says. ‘Where are you?’

There are other people on the bus, but they’re all studiously ignoring Tash. Either that or they just assume she’s on the phone.

‘Here,’ I say quietly.

‘Come here,’ Tash says. ‘You mad cow.’

I move round and sit next to her and she hooks her arm through mine, squeezing me against her. I rest my head on her shoulder. I think the adrenaline’s wearing off and I feel like I might cry.

‘You were so great,’ Tash says. I can feel her breath on my face. ‘You were like a superhero.’

I snort. ‘Yeah, right.’

‘You were. You made them look like the total arseholes they are. I hope that polo shirt dickhead’s balls don’t come down for a week.’

I laugh. But I’m still shaking.

‘How did it feel?’ Tash asks quietly.

‘It felt really good,’ I tell her. ‘I was almost disappointed when the bus came. I wanted to grab two of them by the ears and bang their heads together.’

Tash barks out a loud laugh. ‘That would have been excellent. Maybe next time, eh?’

She squeezes my arm again and I rub my head against her shoulder.

‘Were you scared?’ I ask her.

‘Yeah,’ she says. ‘A bit. I mean, I don’t think they’d do anything, but it’s still… Even being spoken to like that is scary.’

‘Yeah,’ I say. I picture their faces, the way they were looking at Tash, as if they knew they could say or do anything. That kind of arrogance is terrifying.

‘Were you?’ Tash asks me.

‘I was at first.’ I look past her, out of the window, at the shop signs blurred through the smudged glass. ‘But once I realised I could do something… no. I was thinking about going for help. And scared I wouldn’t find anyone. When I realised I could help us myself, it felt—’

‘Powerful?’ Tash suggests.

‘Not really, no,’ I say. And then, ‘A bit.’

‘I would think,’ Tash says. ‘You know what it reminded me of?’

‘What?’

‘That scene in Thelma & Louise when they shoot that guy’s truck.’

I laugh. ‘Oh shit. Yeah.’

‘Who knew you were picking up tips?’ Tash says. ‘I thought you were just thinking about Alex.’

I elbow her in the side and she squeezes me again.