“…To Their Fainting Country Cling” (Shelly’s ‘England in 1819’)

“Kick him in the groin. Kick him in the groin!”

Madge, fifteen year old daughter of a Madonna fan, lowered her Smartphone to give Nigel a look.

“What?”

“The balls … the–”

Julian shifted so that he was sitting on the targets chest [pinning his arms and glared back over his shoulder.

“Are you recording this or what? We only let you in because you got the fancy kit. So get on– Oi, that was me!”

“Sorry, man, got overenthusiastic. “ Jeff was older than all the others, but slower.

“Oooh, listen to him and his big word,” Richard crowed.

“I can learn things too.”

“Well friggin learn not to be kicking me instead of the invader here.”

“Ha ha ha – big dumb loser,” Richard taunted as Madge trained her phone on Julian again.

“And you can get back to your vapid cheerleading. Dick – I wouldn’t want you to tax yer brain,” Julian said with a touch of acid.

“He’s stopped moving,” Madge informed them with no little concern.

“I’m sitting on him. Of course–”

“…To Their Fainting Country Cling” (Shelly’s ‘England in 1819’)

“No, I mean at all – struggling, like.”

“So?” Julian adjusted himself to land another punch.

Jeff kicked the motionless head.

“Is he dead?” Madge looked back and forth between Julian and her phone before scrolling to the required function.

“Don’t you dare wipe that!” Julian rose from the victim, eyes blazing.

“But what if–”

“Serves him right for sneaking into our country to steal our jobs.”

“You don’t have a job, Jules.”

Julian ignored Jeff’s assertion and stayed focused on Madge. “Gimme,” he demanded, hand out.

Madge backed away, shaking her head.

“He’s alive,” Richard announced. Disappointment coloured his tone.

“He’s got a wadge of money, a drivers’ licence and credit cards,” Jeff announced – a big grin on his handsome face.

“What’s the name of this one? I have Mustafa in the pool!”

“Derek Smythe.” Jeff pronounced it as it read.

“…To Their Fainting Country Cling” (Shelly’s ‘England in 1819’)

Julian left Madge alone to confirm this oddity. “Foreign scum even taking our names,” he noted.

Madge vanished into a laneway as the sirens began to wail.

“WE’RE DOING YOU A FAVOUR, YOU OLD BAT,” Richard roared at the elderly lady who had been banging out the window at them during the attack. “HE’S NOT REALLY BRITISH. LOOK AT HIM!”

The sirens were close now.

“Better go,“ Julian said and made off at an easy lope.

The loyal little islanders followed.