It was a good watch, with an electric-blue face. My mum had bought it for me. I’d picked it out myself from the window of Laucher’s Jewellery and Clocks emporium on the Queenstown Road, and accessorised it with a thick, metal-studded leather strap. It was a prized possession.
‘Take it off, or I’ll –’
‘No I bloody won’t,’ I said, astonished to hear myself swear. ‘Just push off.’
The tall freezing youth brought up the pocket of his raincoat, through which poked something long and thin. It pointed at my stomach.
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