Champagne & Lemonade

by John A. D. Hickling

  When the news broke Pete’s face contorted with anger and he made a hasty retreat to the men’s room. That had been ten minutes ago now and he was yet to re-emerge. “Mick, have you seen Pete?” I asked the landlord.

  “He left, Tom, about ten minutes ago. It’s bad business about Joan, ain’t it? How’s your Lisa by the way? Ain’t seen her for a bit.”

  I trembled slightly at the mention of Lisa; I was growing more and more concerned. “Erm, yeah terrible, and, err, yes she’s OK, thanks.” At that I downed my drink, said bye to Mick and some others, and shot out.

  My mind was working overtime as I started to run home. I hadn’t gone far though when my run descended into a jog, then a brisk walk — it just shows how unfit you can get. As I got home I couldn’t stop staring at Pete’s drive. There, stood proudly upon it, was his car. I was so confused; Pete said it had broken down and had to be left at the shops. I slowly walked around the car to Pete’s front door. It didn’t look like he was in as it was all in darkness and the curtains were wide open. I knocked and then tried the handle but it was locked.

  I went into my house and poured a whiskey. I took a deep swig and got my phone out to ring Lisa. I wondered what I would do if there was still no answer — should I ring the police or just go round to her sister’s in a taxi? These worries stopped though when, for the first time, it didn’t go straight to answer phone. It was ringing and I waited anxiously on the other end until —

  “Hello.”

  “Lisa, i-is that you?”

  “Hello, Tom, darling, I was panicking because I hadn’t heard from you.”

  My heart danced with joy. “You’ve been panicking? You’re not on your own there. Where have you been? I have tried to ring loads of times; God knows why Gemma don’t get a land line sorted.”

  “You’re right, she should really what with the signal down here, it is rubbish. Why, what is the matter, darling? Are you all right?”

  “I am now, but, well, I think my imagination has been on turbo. Have you heard about Joan from the DIY shop being murdered?” Muffled noises caught my attention. It sounded like someone was dragging something heavy across the floor and it seemed to be coming from Pete’s. There were also several bangs against the wall.

  “Yes I have, the gossips are on overtime down here. It’s horrible; such a lovely woman, but have you heard the other bit?”

  My heart stopped dancing. “No, what?”

  “Another woman, Judy Gillingham, she worked there too, the skinny one with blonde hair — you know, Tom, a nice woman, but always sticking her nose in where it wasn’t wanted. She rubbed Pete up the wrong way gossiping about him and Sally once. Anyway, she’s also gone missing.”

  “You’re joking, my God, what is going on?”

  “I know; it’s not safe to go out on your own.”

  “Well, make sure you don’t go out on your own, darling.”

  “Don’t worry, Tom. Anyway, it’s getting late; I’ll ring you tomorrow, okay? Love you.”

  “Okay, darling, love you too.” As I hung up I was sure I could hear Pete laughing next door. I poured myself another drink. I stood there for a moment thinking about the day’s events before downing my whiskey in one. I put the glass in the sink and crept upstairs, listening intently with my ear pressed against the wall, but it all seemed to be silent. I went up to bed where I was so exhausted from worrying that I dropped off to sleep fully clothed.

  *

  I jumped up, startled. I looked over at my clock; it was 2.10 a.m. I could hear that same dragging noise from earlier accompanied by some heavy breathing, but this time it was coming from the back gardens. I sneaked over to the window and my heart felt like it was being squeezed; for there was Pete dragging a skinny blonde body into his shed.

  I was trying to think of what to do when Pete looked up. I shot behind the curtains. Had he definitely seen me? I wasn’t sure if he had. I stood frozen in fear for a good few minutes; my mind numb. Then, with a surge of adrenaline, I ran downstairs and went for the phone.

  As I reached the kitchen I froze. There, in the middle of the laminate floor, were the malevolent eyes of Pete burning into me. He had a hammer in his hand. I was about to say something to him when he raised the hammer high above his head and leapt towards me. The blow made me writhe in excruciating pain. I couldn’t make my body function; I tried to say something, tried to force my mouth to say ‘why?’, but nothing would come out. Blood started to drip down off my eyelids and I dropped to my knees. I tried to move my hands to block his attack but when Pete brought the hammer down, smashing my skull, I fell flat on my face. Blood was pooling all around me. I looked up at Pete who was stood over me, hammer at the ready. The last words I heard were, “I can’t stand nosey buggers.”

  The Beautiful Snow

  It was like being in heaven, or what I imagined heaven to look like, watching the snow fall down. The pureness of it was wonderful and peaceful; it made the world look so virginal and unspoilt. My town had been covered in a pure white blanket that looked cosy enough to snuggle up in. Children were already outside revelling in it, sledging and making snowmen. It made you wish it was Christmas, which was now a good two months ago.

  I would have loved to go out and join all the folk in the fun, but I was getting ready for work. I got out my police uniform and after rebuttoning my shirt twice (as I was more interested in watching Melissa and her brother Ben from across the street finish building their snowman with the crooked carrot nose) I got ready and left for my night shift. Well, I say left; it took me thirty minutes to get the car off the drive.

  Even though I admired the snow’s beauty while I struggled to the station, I soon realized the danger and catastrophe that was beginning to happen around me. Already on the police radio there had been a report of a plane crash-landing at the nearby airport and as I turned a corner my faithful old Ford started to skid, pulling me towards a couple of parked cars. I was lucky and managed to regain control, averting any damage, but I knew that many drivers would not be so lucky out on the road today.

  As I made my way, a bit more cautiously, to the station it came over on the radio that a man who had taken his dog for a walk at ten thirty this morning had not been seen since. It soon dawned on me that this wasn’t going to be a quiet shift.

  At the station it was chaos; calls were coming from everywhere and with more and more men being drafted in for the plane crash we were quickly losing manpower.

  The sergeant shouted me. “PC Mark Welsh.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Welsh, take PC Jacob Field, take the jeep and go and search for the missing man. His name’s Stanley Meadows and he was last seen going towards Three Point Woods. Here’s his picture.” Before I could answer, the sergeant was off giving out more orders.

  Jacob and I struggled in the jeep as the snow kept on coming. I was getting irritable as the journey that would normally have taken ten minutes had now taken well over twenty. As we neared the woods there was a car that had tipped over onto its roof at the side of the road. I parked up alongside and we jumped out. My heart was in my mouth because even though I have seen numerous accidents before you just never know what you’re going to come across. The silver Ford Mondeo was badly crushed at the front from where it had hit a tree. There was an unconscious girl of about ten in the back suspended by her seatbelt. In the front was a half conscious woman, who I presumed was her mother.

  Jacob ran to the jeep to radio for the emergency services. I bent down at the side of the woman, checking her over. “Hello, I’m PC Mark Welsh, you have been involved in an accident; what is your name?”

  The woman was slowly looking up and from side to side, trying to understand what had happened. She then fixed her eyes on me. “Erm…my name is Sarah — Sarah Beeston.”

  “Okay, Sarah, just try and relax, help is on its way. What is the little girl’s name? Is she your daughter?”

  “Yes, Chloe — her name’s Chloe; i-is she okay?” Sarah had been quite calm un
til that point but she then started fidgeting; she was trying to turn to look for her daughter. I was about to answer when she became hysterical. “Oh my God, Chloe — Chloe!” Sarah tried to reach her daughter.

  “It’s okay, Sarah, Chloe will be fine; the ambulance is already on its way.”

  “Are you sure?…you’re lying.” Sarah tried to reach Chloe again.

  “No I am not lying, trust me, it will all be fine.” I gave her a reassuring smile, but truthfully I wasn’t sure what the outcome would be; I just knew it was my duty and, more importantly, the compassionate thing to do, to reassure her. Thankfully, this seemed to calm her slightly and she sat still while I moved round to check on Chloe.

  She was covered in cuts and bruises. I listened to Chloe’s chest to check her breathing and found a pulse upon pressing her wrist. My touch caused her to stir and she started to come around, a slow stir at first, but then she tried to move.

  “M-mum?”

  “It’s okay, darling, I am here; the policemen are here to help, sweetheart.”

  She was obviously scared so I smiled warmly at her. “Hello, Chloe, it’s all right, my name’s Mark and that is Jacob; we are going to help you and your mum, okay?” Chloe apprehensively nodded. Both Sarah and Chloe were shivering with the cold so we brought blankets from the jeep to drape over them.

  “Right, Chloe, we are going to get you out and put you into our warm jeep, okay, sweetheart?” Chloe started to weep with the pain and shock of it all.

  “It will be all right, Chloe,” said Sarah. After a few minutes of wrestling with the seat belt and clearing away debris Jacob and I managed to free her.

  Jacob took her to the jeep, kept her warm and calm; her right leg was really bruised and cut, I wasn’t sure if she had broken it or not. I went back to the Mondeo, and with it not being as difficult as freeing her daughter, I managed to get Sarah out and reunite her with Chloe in the jeep. It seemed like ages but the fire brigade and ambulance finally arrived; our job here was done. We were radioed from the station telling us to leave the scene and to go and look for the missing man.

  We had been searching for half an hour on foot, neither of us was thinking the snow was beautiful at that moment; my vision of heaven was fast turning into hell. It was so bitterly cold it was cutting through me; it felt like my body was slowing down. It was like a punishment being made to battle through this atrocity. The snow was falling really fast and thick making it hard to see. Jacob was trying to stop his teeth from chattering and I couldn’t feel my feet; they felt so heavy trying to plough through the cold snow it was like I had lead boots on.

  We were about to turn back and give up any hope of finding the man when we heard a dog barking. We walked in the direction of the sound and we soon came across a springer spaniel, which was black with white spots. He was barking more frequently now, he was obviously pleased to see us and the feeling was mutual. He stood guarding his owner, who was only just visible amongst the snow. He was slumped with his back up against a tree, his light blue coat almost obscured by snow and his face partially covered by a thick woolly green scarf; in his right hand was a red handled dog lead.

  We fought through the snow to get to him and I knelt beside him, detecting a pulse. I was no expert in such matters but my guess was that he had suffered a heart attack; his hand was clutching his chest and his breathing was very irregular. Jacob radioed in the situation on his hand held walkie-talkie and gave directions to get the ambulance as close to the scene as possible.

  I kept Mr Meadows (who I had identified from his photograph) warm by wrapping him up in my long coat; I kept myself warm by throwing a stick for the dog, Jesse, whose name and address dangled down from his collar. It seemed like we had been there for days when I heard Jacob and the paramedics battling through the elements towards us. We put Mr Meadows on the stretcher and wrapped him up warm while the paramedics did their stuff.

  After they had made sure Mr Meadows was safe for movement we all set off together through the deep, cold snow with Jesse leading the way. We took it in turns carrying the stretcher, only stopping twice, once for a breather and once to help Jacob up, who had fallen after getting his foot stuck in some hole. We were concerned for Mr Meadows who was still breathing funny and was still out cold. It felt such a relief when after all our struggles we got to the ambulance, and as we did Mr Meadows slowly woke up; he looked at me with curiosity.

  “Hello, Mr Meadows, I am PC Mark Welsh, Sir; we are going to take you to hospital.”

  He looked at me confused before mumbling, “Where’s Jesse?”

  “Jesse’s fine, Sir.”

  Mr Meadows slowly nodded and after years of doing this job people never cease to amaze me as Mr Meadows, who was close to death’s door, then smiled and said, “Isn’t the snow beautiful?”

  We soon got Mr Meadows settled and after the paramedics (who confirmed it was a heart attack) had given him some treatment we bid them farewell. Me and Jacob were planning to go get a coffee to warm ourselves up, but after a brief conversation with our sergeant we realized that wasn’t going to happen as now a lorry had lost control and smashed into a 24 hour supermarket. At this moment in time we were the only available officers as the plane crash had taken up most of the manpower.

  We got to the supermarket to see that the lorry had gone straight through the window. The driver was in the cab, a couple of the staff was outside cut and shaken, but there was a third member of staff, Ian Noble, who was unaccounted for. Jacob comforted the two staff members and tried to find out how long the fire brigade and ambulance (who were pushed to their limits) would be. I climbed in through the lorry’s passenger door. The driver had bad cuts to his arms and face and he was covered in shattered glass from the smashed windscreen. I took a pulse — there was none. I laid down the seat as far back as it would go and cleared off the glass and other debris. I checked his airway and then put the heel of my right hand on his chest, in-between his nipples, then, clasping my left hand on top of the right one, I started to give chest compressions. I gave him thirty then mouth to mouth. I checked his pulse again and detected a faint one. I gave a sigh of relief and couldn’t help the feeling of pride that swept through me at having just brought someone back to life.

  I kept him warm and with my personal first aid kit patched up his cut head as best I could. At that moment Jacob poked his head through the door. “Mark, the one that’s missing; they think he’s under the lorry.”

  “Have a look, Jacob, and be careful.”

  I got one of the staff to climb in and keep an eye on the driver and keep him warm while I went to help Jacob, who had located the man; he was covered in debris under the lorry. I managed to crawl under and clear away the glass, splintered wood and various pieces of fruit and veg. I checked his airways and pulse; he was breathing but knocked out and his arm was badly damaged; bone was protruding from the skin. I wrapped it up in a temporary sling. There were no more visible injuries so Jacob crawled to me and I got the man’s head end while Jacob got his feet and we slowly shunted him from side to side, stopping to check he was still breathing. I banged my head on the diesel tank as we struggled out and as we got to the side of the lorry one of the staff helped us out with the man.

  We didn’t know how long it would take for the emergency services to arrive, but that wasn’t our only concern at that moment as we had members of the public queuing up for a look. There was also a very annoying nosey reporter hanging around who was only interested in getting a gruesome report for the local paper.

  A good hour passed and me and Jacob were exhausted after looking after the injured people and dealing with the public and the reporter when an ambulance finally arrived.

  For the rest of our shift we rescued a cat that was stuck in a tree (Jacob wasn’t amused as he ripped his trousers climbing up after it) and we also helped a tramp that had gotten snowed in inside an abandoned house. Jacob had heard him shouting when he was up the tree with the cat. The tramp had taken shelter in the boarded up
property yesterday, but with the snow coming down so heavily it had blocked off all exit routes. We had to dig him out with our trusty shovel that we kept in the jeep. Normally, we would have taken him to the station and booked him for breaking and entering, but after a quick telling off we decided to let him go as the terrified look on his face told me he wouldn’t be doing it again in a hurry.

  We got back to the station to be praised from all quarters. The sergeant said everyone we had rescued was doing well and as miracles go there were also no fatalities at the plane crash. I had to laugh at him moaning, ‘the ruddy snow; horrible stuff’.

  It seemed to take me ages to get home and the first coffee of the night tasted divine, it certainly hit the spot. I slumped down in my armchair, turning on the box. Reports of the plane crash were on followed by further accidents caused by the snow; watching it all made the chaos of nature really hit home. I flicked through the channels, then, after a good yawn, I turned everything off and made my way upstairs.

  After a couple of minutes wrestling with my shirt buttons I undressed and got into bed; I slowly cuddled up behind my wife and kissed her on the back of her head. She was out for the count so I just held her for a few minutes. There had been moments that night when I had wondered if I would ever arrive home to be safe and warm beside her. I gave her another kiss then turned over to get some well-earned sleep.

  Later, I awoke to the noise of children who were sledging and snowball fighting. It did look beautiful out there. Me and my wife went out to join in the fun, we sledged down the hills and had two snowball fights (which I lost).

  My mind drifted to the previous night’s events. I couldn’t stop thinking of the danger that I had witnessed: the people in the supermarket, Sarah and Chloe, Mr Meadows and Jesse all going about their daily routines when they had all nearly lost their lives because of nature — because of the snow. I shuddered to think of my and Jacob’s pain as we struggled through the achingly cold snow, how we thought we would never feel our fingers and toes again. I was thinking of how close we all could have been to death when I was snapped out of my reverie by a snowball to the face.