Chapter Seven
A New Plan
Beware of ‘helpful’ friends they often forget who they are trying to help.
As Birthday Dad lay prostrate on the floor, I turned off the music. I gave the wife a few of my stress buster’s herbal teabags I always carry with me and never used and patted her on the arm. I almost felt for the wife; the only woman her husband wanted was Fanny. Even as he lay on the floor, eyes glazed with a twisted limb, he wanted her.
“Fanny, can you hear me…”
“Fanny, are you there…”
“I’m done for, Fanny…”
“Fanny…Fanny!”
The chief swept into the room, brandishing a broom. He ripped the head off, cracked the handle in half across his knee, and shouted, “Call an ambulance.”
A few winced but the chief didn’t flinch. He pulled a cloth from a table; plates and cutlery crashed to the
