The chase
Melvin saw the hooded youth as he grabbed the handbag from the woman, the woman screamed and gave a token fight for her bag but it was a wasted gesture, he had snatched it from her in the middle of the street and was now making off weaving his way down through the uninterested crowds.
‘Someone stop him’ she wailed
And Melvin gave chase, because that was the type of guy he was.
He raced off shouting over his shoulder
‘I’ll get him lady.’
He pursued the snatcher on down the main street and into the side roads aware of some commotion at his back. He had to try to run harder.
This wasn’t good for him he thought what about my heart. The sweat was running down his face now.
It was a wet and the streets and pavements were slippery. He slowed a little. He couldn’t keep up this pace he was getting too old for this malarkey
He still had the thief in his sights; he was about twenty yards in front of him, he darted up an alleyway and Melvin followed.
The noises behind him were becoming fainter now less people around. He glanced over his shoulder, and sure enough there was only him in pursuit.
He ran on dodging the rubbish bins and skirting the puddles. He sure hoped it was worth it.
Am I mad he thought what if there is nothing in the bag worth stealing? Thoughts of a bag full of cosmetics and rubbish, rifled through his brain.
He was catching up with the thief now closing the gap.
He shouted at him to stop and put a huge drive into the last few yards.
At that the thief turned and saw him catching up.
‘Here Get off’ he yelled and threw the bag at Melvin knocking him into the wall and causing him to loose balance.
At that the thief was off
Melvin stopped, He stooped over breathing hard and groaning to himself at the pain all that effort had caused him. Trying to ignore the stitch in his side.
He slowly recovered himself and looked around. There was no one else with him. He opened the bag and rummaged through the contents taking out the credit cards and cash. He then threw the purse and bag onto the sodden ground in an attempt to make it look like the thief had thrown the lot away.
Then picking the items up made his way back to the woman to return what was left of the bag.
She was still standing on the pavement where the whole incident had started from this time a policeman was with her taking a statement.
‘Here’s your bag, sorry there doesn’t seem to be much left in it’
The woman turned to Melvin and expressed her thanks and immediately looked into her bag to see what was missing.
‘My money, my credit cards and my phone’ she stated ‘all gone’
Phone? thought Melvin I didn’t see a phone.
‘Well the guy must have emptied it before he threw it away’ he said
‘Well I’ll be off now’ he paused momentarily for the customary thanks and just caught sight of the hooded yob that he had been chasing closing in on his left side.
‘What the…’
‘Excuse me sir’ the man was now taking down his hood and at the same time revealing an ID badge from his jacket pocket.
‘Detective Constable Barry Black, CID I believe that you have something of the lady’s in your pocket’
And to prove his point the constable pulled out her phone and showed Melvin the photo of him searching through her bag.
It had been a set up
Barry continued speaking, ‘we’ve been after you for months now, a very clever trick to pretend to come to the lady’s rescue, get her bag and then relieve her of the contents’ ‘This is PC Wilma McLean’
Then continuing to read, a gob smacked Melvin, His rights. Led him into a waiting police car.
© Norma Allan 2005
Rage
The second time the car cut in front of him Hugh was incensed
“Well get on with it!” he exploded his face red, anger bubbling up.
Moving out overtaking the car He deliberately cut in front, then swung into his exit
The car followed
Driving erratically, speeding and watching the car when suddenly he skidded mounted the pavement, bumped the kerb, crashed into the lamppost severely damaging his car.
He slumped forward into the airbag and gulped with shock
Oh god what have I done! The blue car drew up beside him
He watched incredulously as his wife got out the car
What!
“Well Hugh that was some exhibition of driving! I was only trying to get your attention, let you know I was there.
Did you forget I was picking up my new car today”
© Norma Allan 2005
Late
He was late he didn’t like it one bit. Why wouldn’t this car go any faster? What a time! He felt frustrated and angry. Snow! Traffic in chaos; cars abandoned at the roadside. Drivers couldn’t cope
Aggravated now, Feeling shame and humiliation. He hated being late.
Making excuses
Here he was, fifty-seven years and never late for anything since school.
He was furious.
He would make excuses. The weather, incompetent drivers
Blame anyone but himself, but would it make him feel better?
No probably not
But wait. I don’t need to apologise. This is my day, my fifteen minutes of fame, this is all about me.
After all he was the late Leonard Griffin and if a person can’t be late for his own funeral what can he be late for?
© Norma Allan 2005
Ghostly Encounters
Mike was driving south on the M6 after a busy day in Glasgow he had negotiated a good deal for his firm but it had been a hard slog, still he would be home in a couple of hours and he had the whole weekend to relax.
At the crossroads he cut out in front of the big green articulated lorry causing the driver to swear under his breath at ‘idiot drivers’
After driving for a few hours and feeling tired and stiff he decided to slow down a little and in pulling in to the nearside lane he saw a sign up ahead advertising a motorway stop a few miles up the road. Yes that would be a welcome break he thought, a cup of coffee and maybe something to eat.
He pulled up into the parking lot and switched off his engine, as he got out of the car he shivered involuntarily, gosh it was colder than he realised. Mike shrugged off the feeling and headed for the bright lights of the motorway stop.
After some unimpressive sandwiches and equally bland coffee he decided to visit the restrooms.
It was while he was washing his hands that he glanced into the mirror, he felt the blood run from his face at the sight he saw there, it was his face all right he was sure of that but the eyes appeared sunken and almost hollow. His nose was just a gaping hole and the mouth was pulled into a shape was so grotesque that he stepped back in shock shaking his head and rubbing his eyes. Hardly daring to look at his reflection again he did so gingerly, but this time the reflection was normal. He sighed with relief, he must be more tired than he first realised.
He briefly contemplated staying at the hotel for the night, but then quickly dismissed the idea, as he was desperate to return to see his family and not keen to spend any more time than necessary away from them.
Splashing his face with water he then dried himself off that was better, you are over reacting Mike, he told himself. He went through the door making to leave the restrooms to return to his car, but turned, having the feeling that he was being watched.
He got into his car and the shiver returned momentarily. What he failed to notice was the slight indentation on the seat beside him. The car was extremely cold; he started up the engine switching the heater up to full blast.
As he looked in the rear view mirror he thought he saw a shape in the back of the car. Swiftly he turned round to see only a vacant space. I must be losing it he thought, pull your self-together man, but he was spooked.
Slipping the car into reverse he edged out of the parking space, the quicker he got home the better.
He drove towards the exit and headed onto the slip road that led back onto the southbound carriageway.
As he raced towards the moving traffic, he suddenly became aware that the seatbelt was moving and while he was looking sideways at the action, terrified to look at it fully, the seatbelt clicked into place and was over a shape, a body! He shrieked in terror and because his foot was already on the accelerator he pressed down harder and the car roared onward, he had to get away.
He did not see the big green articulated lorry until it was too late he bounced off the lorry’s wing and into the path of two oncoming vehicles the resulting pile up claimed the lives of four others besides Mike.
Later that night after the traffic policeman had finished taking the statements and had helped the fire brigade clear up. He remarked to his colleague how strange it was that this was the seventh crash at or near this location in as many months. It was puzzling as the road was no different here than any other part of the motorway.
All that was left to do now was to inform some nearest and dearest about the tragedies that had now touched and changed their lives.
He spoke briefly to the lorry driver noting as he did that the driver was still quite shaken at the accident, the lorry driver had put in his statement that the driver of the car had had a look of sheer terror on his face. It was as if t he had been fleeing from something horrible, almost as if a ghost was haunting him.
The lorry driver rose into his cab and bid the officer goodnight, it was extremely cold, and he failed to notice the slight indentation on the seat beside him.
© Norma Allan 2004
