He lifted his right hand and opened his palm. It was an instinctive reaction to a lifetime of summers infested with midges but it never reached the back of his neck, where the insect was busy drawing his blood.
Instead, his face crashed onto the café table, knocking over his coffee as it did. The silence which followed was broken when Madge said 'Christ'.
Bernie, the café owner, was already dialling '999' and Cindy, a regular who had been sitting two tables away, trying to find a pulse. She looked across to Bernie and said 'He's gone'.
Madge hadn't moved a muscle. 'Christ' she repeated.
'Who is he?' Cindy asked of the café in general just in case somebody knew but nobody did, so she began to empty his pockets and spoke aloud as she did. 'Four £1 notes, three half-crowns, four shillings, a thruppenny bit, two half-pennies and four pennies. '£4.12.2d' she said allowed 'A week's wages'. From another pocket she took a collection of trolleybus tickets, all for the 662, two holes punched in each, all obscuring part of 'Jubilee Clock' and 'Ealing Road', both part of a roll call of names beginning with 'Paddington Green' and ending with 'Sudbury Swan’.
'Well, that's a clue of sorts' Cindy said to herself. From his hands she guessed that he was a manual worker but not a lathe turner or a mechanic. Not enough oil or grime. Rough, yes. The man was about fifty and decently dressed, light reflecting back from the leather uppers on his well polished boots. A sometime service man for sure. No tie or collar. That had to mean something. Then she remembered his turn-ups. Sister Dora had taught her the trick when she was training to be a nurse at Good Hope Hospital. There was sawdust. Perhaps he was a carpenter or a joiner. Cindy was never sure of the difference.
Five minutes went by and no one spoke as they waited for the ambulance to arrive. Madge, Cindy, Bernie and the old Coopers of course. They had continued to sit eating their bacon sandwiches throughout, then the café door opened and a woman walked in and looked upon the scene before coming across to the man and kneeling down, so that her face was level with his. 'Oh Harry, Harry, what have you done?'
©Robert Howard.
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