Welcome to Caffe Nero in Station Square, Cambridge.

Yesterday, I decided to complete and publish ‘The Half-Life Girl’ and ignore not having completed the planning for book three. 

It may not have been Agatha Christie, but one famous crime writer said she didn’t know how her novels would end when she started writing. I am hoping my subconscious has it already worked out.

………………………………………………………………….

It’s almost three weeks since I returned from China. I arrived at my front door in a wheelchair. I couldn’t straighten my left leg. I couldn’t walk. I was jet-lagged. My wife got me into bed and went to work. 

I slept for about an hour and then phoned her.

“I need to go to Accident & Emergency.”

She arrived home and bundled me into the front seat of the car. She parked in an ambulance bay and went inside to fetch a wheelchair. 

Soon, we were sitting with all the other patients awaiting a doctor or a nurse. We were there for ten hours. Evening wore into night, and night into early morning. 

And as night fell, the night people arrived: a drunk man, a homeless man, and a woman screaming in pain. 

Two security men were wandering in and out of the room, but it was the female nurses’ people skills that kept A&E calm. 

One sat beside the homeless man and told him there were no spare beds. This happened three times. Suddenly, he stood up and announced he was going home. 

The drunk man was disoriented. He wasn’t aggressive. I’m glad the nurse didn’t call security. Again, she sat beside him and told him she had made him an appointment and someone would see him soon. And gradually, we guessed, he sobered up.

The screaming woman arrived at about one in the morning. She was only in A&E for a short time. A rapid assessment was made, and she disappeared through a door. 

Everyone eventually went through that door. We never saw them again. 

(Scary music)