Casualty was busy for a Monday afternoon. This’ll get worse, the NHS safe with the Tories, bollocks, Jack thought to himself, ‘Tut Tut,’ Meesh, mimicking Dolly.
‘You’re spot on, mate,’ a pressured ambulance technician rejoined.
‘Did I?’ Mandy nodded.
Mandy walked like Long John Silver, sans parrot, dragging a dead leg that had the elfin girl’s gangly arms and tiny hands grasping a thigh, her head squashed into Mandy’s waist, blood oozing from her temporary dressing and spotting the waistband of her skirt. Mandy’s phone rang.
‘No mobiles.’
Mandy acknowledged the Jobsworth, and down on her haunches, whispered sweetly to Meesh, ‘Sweetheart, go with Jack, I’ll just take this call.’
Meesh was ominously showing little emotion as Jack peeled her from Mandy’s leg, the fringe benefits of whic
