I was standing in the foyer of the Playhouse with Stuart, waiting for Isabelle to emerge after the credits had rolled completely. Idly I scanned a poster, which depicted a youth with a recenly stitched scar, something about knife crime and "saving face - it's not worth it."
The floodgates must have opened to Cinema 1 upstairs and young people cascaded down the steps. Suddenly testostorone levels proved too much for one pair of young adults. Whatever real or imagined grievance one held for the other, did it warrant a surprise attack? This culminated in the smaller of the two hammering the other, by now crouched on the floor, over the head with one of his boots.
The surrounding crowd instinctively pulled back and various voices were raised. I peered into the rammy half interested, half repulsed, and there was Isabelle pulling the smaller boot wielding one off, shouting
"STOP IT!! Calm DOWN!" At this, the smaller one, confused and angry but having drawn blood, moved off. The taller one, by now enraged, had to be restrained by three or four friends...
Isabelle's explanation was, "I just felt I had to stop it, I couldn't just stand there looking at it, I could feel the other one getting hurt."
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Meanwhile, I was feeling totally secure hiding behind a 4cm wide piece of webbing strap normally used to form the queing mazes.
"My God - Isabelle has jumped right into the thick of it"
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