The First Victim

The body’s thud preceded the last of the plastic cases skittering across the floor. The prostrate form groaned and in the shop a blanket of silence fell. From outside, traffic labouring up Park Street filled the void. A tableau: shoppers frozen, faces fixed; the shattered carousel, its CDs, cases and inserts strewn in all directions; Guy uncomfortably closest to the stricken lump, which shivered, mouthing bubbles of foam. A final CD insert parachuted down and settled by a trickle of blood snaking from the fat man’s nose. An Introduction to NLP.

Guy thought of Saul: he followed that sort of thing, especially since the split with Fiona. He was a doctor too. He would have sprung into action. Guy was blank. He had even forgotten the book he had been carrying to the checkout, so fixed was he on the mute drama facing him.

The white-haired Scot reacted first and knelt over the labouring victim. Guy blessed him and hovered and tried to look useful without wanting to see any of the details.

“An ambulance,” he said.

“Aye. And right quick.”

Guy pulled out his phone, even as a nurse bustled over, presumably on her break from the Royal Infirmary. Guy tapped in 999 and tensed, as though he shouldn't be dialling these sacred numbers, meant only for emergencies. Was this an emergency?

As though in affirmation the victim moaned, wheezed, and shivered. Was blood also flecking the foam around his mouth? Guy felt weak and tried to look away. He realised the phone was interrogating him. Good, an anchor to concentrate on.

Above it the nurse was saying, “We should clear the area, please. Please. Come along. There’s a risk of infection. Come along.” Behind concealing hand she muttered to the Scotsman.

Guy finished the call. “It’s on its way.”

The nurse nodded. “Good. Now you too, please.” She waved him away.

Guy didn't need prompting but he would have liked to know the outcome. For that there was always the Web and he still had Matthew’s wedding card to buy before the weekend. Not in this shop any more, as the staff were shepherding customers out, like a plan springing into action. A siren announced the approach of an ambulance – not an unusual sound in this part of Bristol.

With an odd sense of anti-climax Guy drifted back to the office, where Rani would be sure to soak up the story. Only as he got to Brandon Hill did he register the unpaid merchandise in his hand. How had he got away with that? ⇐ ⇒