In the Wrong Place

Oh, No! There's so much blood for such a small hole. My hand is covered with the hot stuff that has kept me alive for fifty-two years. Why on earth did he have to go and shoot me?  I’d done nothing wrong.  I was simply minding my own business – I suppose it was sheer panic, even more so when he heard the emergency buzzer go off in the bank. Surely he’d know that the buzzer alerts the local police that there’s a robbery in progress.  Hopefully someone will be here soon.  I hope so!

I was only in the bank picking up the currency ready for our holiday on Saturday, that is if we’ll be going after this.

Oh dear what a day, only this morning I shouted at the dog for making a mess in the kitchen.  Wonder if Derek will cancel the dog going to the kennels after all this!

I see her from No.43 has got herself another bloke.  I saw his car parked outside her house on Sunday morning and she was with him Saturday night.  What an example is that to show her teenage daughters I ask you?

Oh God, is the ambulance on its way?  Where on earth is it?  It should be here by now; it seems to be taking ages.  I am beginning to feel rather cold!  Oh that is kind, a lady has just put a coat around me and I can hear them saying that the ambulance is held up at the road works on Bromley Lane.  Being a one-way system and known as a bottleneck it could be ages yet.

Our Thomas is going to wonder where I am.  He was so excited when he came home with the letter to say he was being awarded a certificate of achievement. He begged me to take time off work to attend the ceremony and I promised I would be there.  It starts a two o’clock; I bet he is looking for me in the audience. He’ll be thinking that I don’t care.

Then there was that phone call last night from my cousin Sheila to say Aunt Alicia died. I hate it when folk keep saying she had had a good innings just because she was 93.  She is being cremated on Wednesday – wonder if I will be there?

Poor Derek! he is going to be ever so disappointed about the holiday, as he loves Mexico.  I wonder if I will be in a fit state to go. I suppose it all depends on how long it is before I get medical help. I hope someone gets here soon.  I don’t want to die!

I remember the night we first met all those years ago, 30th April 1966 – the year of the World Cup.  Happy Days!  I was just nineteen years old.  We met at a pub in Preston called the Corporation Arms in Corporation Street.  I went along with a friend of mine June, who’d met a lad the previous night and he was bringing along a friend for me but he didn’t turn up.

I walked up to the bar in my grey pinstriped suit with the mini skirt and a heart shaped badge with my name printed on it pinned on the lapel.  There he was, tall with blonde hair and handsome. I noticed immediately that he was on his own and I smiled as naturally as possible.  He was gorgeous!  I remember thinking to myself I wouldn’t mind a bit of that!  Not that I was in the habit of having a bit of anything! 

My heart skipped a beat when he spoke to me and asked if he could buy me a drink.  I refused as the previous evening I’d had a conversation with my mum, she warned me not to talk to men in pubs.  I politely told him I do not talk to strangers in pubs.

I went to sit back down next to June and within ten minutes went back to the bar.  “Hi Jean, how are you,” he said.  “Can I buy you a drink?”  I threw caution to the wind and accepted.

I think it was love at first sight as we were married within nine months.  I love the bones off him I do!  He loves me too but he’s a bit too possessive at times.

It’s true you know what they say that you never know what is around the corner.  Mind you I didn’t expect this when I turned out this morning although I did moan to Mrs. Elliott at No 39 about the weather.

I remember the gunman seemed determined to hit me when he fired that gun. He held the gun with hands, shaking and wavering as if inflamed with anger. It was strange when the gun went off, as it didn't sound quite as loud as I expected. It sounded more like the backfire of a car.

The guy was left behind as the getaway car spun away without him. As he ran away he fell over the curb and landed in a heap. He lost the gun and scrambled to his feet, looking for it.  Then he saw me, I was stood glued to the spot, one hand clasped over the hole in my belly, blood gushing out over my fingers.  He looked so stupid, his mouth hanging open, blue eyes wide open with shock.  Then he started to babble. I think he was trying to tell the stranger that grabbed him that he was sorry, but I couldn’t be certain. 

I had this damn rushing sound in my ears, like I was listening to the roaring of the ocean in a seashell.  I remember I suddenly fell backwards onto the steps of a hotel, as if I was going to pass out. The front of my jeans was all sticky wet with my blood.  It has started to pool underneath me and it’s flowing down the step.

I think I can just make out the sounds of the sirens. 

They must be are getting nearer.

I hope they get here in time, as I know it is bad and I’m in a really bad way.

There is so much blood; I cannot believe how much there is.

Oh that nice man has put his coat under my head. 

Damn. Everything is going dark and I feel so very cold.



1,109 words