Pinprick by Matthew Cash Page A

him.
    “Sit up slowly my friend”, said the Indian man and offered Shane a handful of tissues. Shane wiped his face and saw he had had a massive nosebleed. He peered at the Indian man’s face, and then looked up at the taxi driver and security guard. “Where’s my friend?”
    The three men exchanged a worried glance and left it to the Indian man to explain. His friendly bearded face smiled reassuringly and apologetic at same time.
    “It’s just us four here boss. You were confused and then you collapsed. Don’t worry though my friend, there’s an ambulance on the way.”
    Shane got to his feet and pointed at the seat in the smoking shelter. “I saw my friend Malcolm sitting right there!”
    The Indian man shook his head.
    “Mate”, the security guard said wiping the sweat off his face, “you came through there,” he gestured to the red and white striped barrier, “running like bloody billy-o and went up to matey here,” he pointed to the Indian man, “ and after a few seconds sat on your arse, said something about your friends and fainted.”
    Shane shook his head, that wasn’t what happened. That’s not what he saw, not what he saw at all.
    “I’ve got to go,” he said.
    “We called an ambulance mate, let them check you over first” the security guard insisted, the Indian man nodding in agreement. Shane caught the taxi driver’s eye, “I’ll give you an extra twenty if you get me out of here before the ambulance gets here!”
    “Come on!” The taxi driver’s eyes lit up and he walked towards the factory entrance.
    “You need help. You can’t just go-” protested the Indian man.
    “Phone them back and cancel it.” Shane called over his shoulder.
    By the time Shane caught up with the taxi driver, he had started the cab and had turned the wheels into the road. Shane jumped in the car and as the cab sped away he heard the approaching sirens.
    He didn’t know why he insisted on rushing off to avoid the ambulance, the rational side of him thought it would have been better to let the medical professionals take a look at him.
    Irrationality had taken over as the events of the past half hour weren’t exactly rational. Even though he doubted they would find anything other than high blood pressure, he was very much concerned about the way his audible disturbances had escalated. Maybe it was the stress of coming back home after so many years coupled with his anxiety over the prospect of his Mother’s funeral and the fact that most of the village would probably be there.
    He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind of all the questions he had no hope of answering.
     
    *
     
    Shane never went shopping so he didn’t really know where to begin. Almost everything he purchased was either online or bought for him by somebody else. After paying the taxi driver handsomely he marched into the first promising shop he saw, which happened to be a Marks and Spencer’s, and asked the first member of staff to summon the manager. Within a second’s glance, the skinny, grey haired manager recognised him.
    “Ah Mr Colbert,” he said offering a hand, “I read you’d be back in this area, may I offer my deepest sympathy for your loss.”
    “My loss?” Shane said puzzled.
    The manager frowned uncomfortably, “the loss of your mother sir?”
    What a bloody idiot! That’s not going to do my character profile a lot of good.
    “Yes of course,” Shane smiled awkwardly, “of course. I’m a struggling a little in this heat we’re having. A few circuits must have blown.”
    After what just happened? No kidding.
    “Well how may I help you?” the manager smiled politely.
    “Right, well I’m not one for shopping at all so I was wondering if you have someone available who can help kit me out with two or three days clothes whilst I see to some other business in town.”
    “Certainly,” said the manager. Shane’s designer suit hadn’t gone unnoticed and he happily imagined the amount of money they’d