A short while later Mrs Jenkinson came out to us. She tried a weak smile. “Why don’t one of you go in and see him? He’s still a bit groggy, but he’s asking after you.”
“You go first,” Mark told me.
“Okay, thanks.”
Cliff was still sitting in the same chair, still holding his man’s hand when I entered.
“Hi,” I said quietly.
“Simon,” Tom said from behind his oxygen mask. His voice was croaky from the anaesthetic.
“How you doing?” I asked.
“Been better, though it’ll take a lot more than a couple of young thugs to keep a good postie down.”
Cliff sniffed. “They nearly killed you.”
“Rubbish, if they hadn’t gotten me by surprise, they wouldn’t have stood a chance.”
“Tom, you heard what that doctor said, an inch lower, and, and…” Cliff shook his head.
I went over to Cliff and gave him
