`He swore at me! I'm not prepared to speak to a customer who's going to swear at me. Do you know how bloody insulting he was when...?'
`Now you're swearing at me. You can't have it both ways, love!'
That was it. That was the straw that broke the camel's back. I ripped off the bloody stupid pinafore that they made me wear and threw it at Trevor, along with my order pad.
`I've had enough! Stick your bloody job!'
I couldn't afford to do what I was doing, but at the same time I couldn't put myself through it any longer. This wasn't the first time this had happened, and I knew that if I stayed in the job it wouldn't be the last. I pushed my way back into the kitchen, grabbed my coat, and marched out through the restaurant.
`Is the manager on his way?' the odious little customer asked at the top of his voice as I walked past. I stopped and turned round to face him. His food couldn't have been too bad because he'd managed to eat half of it.
`No he isn't,' I answered. `The manager cannot be bothered to come and speak to you, and I can't be bothered wasting my time dealing with pathetic little fuckers like you either. You can stick your meal and your attitude and your complaint up your arse, and I hope you fucking choke on your food!'
And he did.
Still chewing a mouthful of breakfast, the sickening, smug grin of superiority which had been plastered across the idiot's face as he watched me ranting at him suddenly disappeared. He stopped eating. His eyes began to water and the veins in his neck began to bulge. He spat out his food.
`Get me some water,' he croaked, clawing at his neck. `Get me some...'
A noise from behind made me turn round. The customers in the far corner of the restaurant were choking too. The middle-aged couple were both in as bad a state as the little shit who had caused me so much trouble this morning. I turned back to look at him again. Christ, he looked like he was suffocating. Much as I'd wished all kinds of suffering on him a couple of minutes earlier, now I just wanted his pain to stop. I ran back to the kitchen.
`Call an ambulance,' I yelled. `There's a customer...' Jamie was on his knees, coughing up blood on the floor in the corner of the kitchen. Keith was lying on his back in the storeroom, rolling around in agony like the others. Trevor was also lying on the ground. He'd lost consciousness. His fat body had fallen half-in and half-out of the back door.
By the time I'd picked up the phone to call for an ambulance everyone in the restaurant was dead.
PHILIP EVANS Part i
Mum isn't well.
She's suffered with her health for years now and she's been practically bed-ridden since last December. She's not been well all week but she's really taken a turn for the worst this morning. I've been up with her since just after five and it's almost eight now. I think I'll get the doctor out to see her if she doesn't start to pick up soon.
I don't know what I'd do without Mum. I've forced myself to try and think about it plenty of times, mind, because I know there's going to come a time when she's not around anymore. We're very close, Mum and I. Dad died when I was nine and there's just been the two of us since then. I'm forty-two now. I've not been able to work for years because I've been looking after her so we don't see much of other people. We pretty much live out on our own here. There's just our cottage and one other on either side and that's all. The village is five minutes back down the road by bike. We've never bothered with a car. I don't drive, and we can get a bus into town if we really need to go there. There's not much we need that we can't find in the village.
She's calling me again. I'll make her some tea and take it up with her tablets. It's not like her to make a fuss like this. She always tells me she doesn't like to make a fuss. She tells the doctor that too when he calls. And the health visitor. And the District Nurse. And the vicar.
It's just her way.
I need to get help but I can't leave her.
Oh, God, I don't know what to do. I was up there talking to her when it happened. I was trying to get her to the toilet when it started. Usually when she has one of her turns she's able to let me know when it's coming, but she didn't just now. This one came out of the blue. It seemed to take her by surprise as we were coming back across the landing.
She started to choke. Now Mum's chest has been bad for a long time, but nothing like this. It was almost as if she'd got something stuck in it, but she hadn't had anything to eat all morning so that was impossible. She'd turned her nose up at her breakfast. Anyway, before I knew what was happening she was coughing and retching and her whole body was shaking in my arms. I lay her down on the ground and tried to get her to calm down and breathe slowly and not panic but she couldn't stop. She couldn't swallow. She couldn't talk. Her eyes started to bulge wide and I could see that she wasn't getting any air but there wasn't anything I could do to help. I tried to tip her head back to open up her windpipe like the nurse showed me once but she wouldn't lie still. She kept fighting against me. She was thrashing her arms around and coughing and spluttering. The noise she was making was horrible. It didn't sound like Mum. She was making this scratching, croaking, gargling noise and I thought that there was phlegm or something trapped in her throat. I thought she might have been choking on her tongue (the nurse told me about that once too) so I put my fingers in her mouth to make sure it was clear. When I took them out again they were covered in thick, dark blood like the insides of her mouth were cut. Then she stopped moving. As suddenly as she'd started she stopped. I sat down on the carpet next to her and held her hand until I was sure that she'd gone.
I could still hear that horrible choking sound in my head even after it had stopped and Mum was lying still. I could hear it ringing in my ears when everything else had gone quiet.
It's been quiet like this for hours now.
My Mum's dead.
I can't just sit here and do nothing. I can't help Mum but I can't just leave her lying here either. The doctor will have to come round and then someone will come to take her away and then... and then I don't know what I'll do. I don't know what I'm going to do without her. I've always had Mum.
About half an hour ago I decided to move her. I couldn't leave her lying there on the floor in the middle of the landing, that just wouldn't have been right. She seemed twice as heavy as she did when she was alive. I thought the best place for her would be her bedroom. I put my hands under her arms and dragged her through to the bedroom and onto the bed. I wiped the blood off her face and tried to close her eyes to make it look like she was just sleeping. I managed to get one eye to stay shut but the other one stayed open, staring at me. It was like she was still watching me. It was like one of those paintings of people's faces where the eyes seem to follow you round the room. In a way it made me feel a little better. Even though she's gone it's like she hasn't stopped looking out for me.
I tried to phone the doctor's surgery but I couldn't get an answer. I couldn't even get the telephone to work properly. I knew someone would have been at the surgery (it's open until late on Tuesdays) so I guessed it was our telephone that wasn't working. Often in winter the line used to go down because we're so isolated out here. But it isn't winter. It's early September and the weather's been fine.
I didn't want to leave Mum but I didn't have any choice. I shut the bedroom door, locked up the house and got my bike out of the shed. It didn't take long to get into the village. Mum never liked me riding on the road (she said it was the other drivers she didn't trust, not me) but it didn't matter this morning. There wasn't any traffic about. It was almost too quiet. Now the village isn't the busiest of places, but there's usually always something happening. This morning it was so quiet that all I could hear was the sound of my bike. It made me feel nervous and scared. And as I got deeper into the village, it got much worse. So much worse that I nearly turned round and came home, but the thought of what had happened to Mum made me keep going forward.
I was cycling down past Jack Halshaw's house when I saw that his front door was wide open. That was strange because Jack's always been careful about things like that. He used to be a friend of my dad's and I've known him all my life. So I stopped the bike, because I thought I should tell him about Mum and I thought he might be able to help me get things sorted out. I walked down the path and leant inside and shouted to him but he didn't answer. I shouted a couple more times but still he didn't reply. I walked down the side of the house to see if he was in his back garden and that was where I found him. He wasn't moving. He was lying on his back on the pavement and I could tell just by looking at him that he was dead. There was a pool of blood around his mouth and it looked like he'd died the same way Mum had.
I didn't know what to do. I kept going until I got to the village. When I got there I just stopped the bike in the
