opened and there she was. Leaning back against the wall, her face perspiring. ‘I think my waters have broken.’
Hobson’s eyes flashed. ‘Can you manage to walk a few steps?’ he said.
‘I think so.’
Hobson and Widdowson escorted the woman out of the secure area back into the bank hall.
The men sighed with relief when they heard the click of the security door behind them.
‘This is the young lady,’ he said to the man holding the stretcher. ‘She’s, er, not very well.’
‘I’m a paramedic. We’ll soon have you in hospital, love. There’s nothing to worry about.’
‘Not to worry,’ the other man said as he opened the stretcher. ‘There we are. Have you there in a jiffy.’
She nodded and tried to smile.
Two minutes later the woman and the two uniformed men were on their way in the ambulance; Mr Hobson was back in his office wiping his forehead with a handkerchief; Cyril Widdowson was in his little cubicle next to the bank vault franking letters ready to take to the post office in his lunch hour, and the man outside, sitting on the stool in front of the solicitor’s office next to the bank, smiled, poured himself another cup of coffee from the flask and rested the headphones momentarily round his neck.
The Bromersley branch of The Great Northern Bank resumed its normal business of accepting other people’s money, investing other people’s money, paying out other people’s money and retaining a small but healthy percentage for its directors, staff and shareholders, in the process.
However, after a quiet few minutes had passed, there erupted the most abominable stink from the smallest room, accompanied by a stream of water gushing out under the door.
The smell pervaded Cyril’s Widdowson’s cubicle, also the sound of running water. He acted immediately. He rushed over to the source of the ghastly smell. He held his nose and pushed open the loo door. Water was running down the wall from the lavatory cistern. He closed the door quickly.
He splashed back to his cubicle, picked up the phone on the wall, pressed a button and the manager, Mr Hobson, answered.
‘What is it now, Widdowson?’ he said irritably.
‘We need a plumber urgently, sir. There’s liquid running from the staff toilet and there’s the most awful smell.’
‘What?’ he said. ‘Well, get the usual ones. The ones we always use. The ones head office has approved.’
‘Right, sir.’
Minutes later, two men with beards in overalls and carrying toolboxes arrived in the bank at the security door and pressed the button.
Widdowson saw them through the window in the security door and opened it two inches.
‘What’s the trouble?’ the older of the two said.
Widdowson peered at them through the crack. ‘You’re not our usual plumber.’
‘No. He can’t come himself, he’s on an emergency job in Mexborough. We work for him. He said it would be all right if we explained. He said that the caller said it was very urgent. The boss can call later this afternoon when he’s finished there. We’ve come off a job at the Town Hall. Of course, if you don’t want us to see to it, we can leave and go back to the job we’re on.’
They turned to leave.
The smell from behind and the sound of running water was in Widdowson’s ears. His stomach turned over and then turned back again. He opened the door wider and called them back.
‘No. I er—’
He swallowed. ‘I’ll have to check with the manager.’
‘Yes, all right, but what exactly is the problem?’ the older man said pressing on the door. ‘Hadn’t you better let us see what it is, while we’re here. It might be getting worse. Oh, what a stink!’
The smell was truly awful.
Widdowson hesitated. His grip on the door relaxed a little.
The two men in boiler suits pushed and they were through it, taking the bank guard with them. The door closed and the lock clicked.
‘You can’t come in here without—’
The leader pulled out a Walther PPK/S and jabbed
Hobson’s eyes flashed. ‘Can you manage to walk a few steps?’ he said.
‘I think so.’
Hobson and Widdowson escorted the woman out of the secure area back into the bank hall.
The men sighed with relief when they heard the click of the security door behind them.
‘This is the young lady,’ he said to the man holding the stretcher. ‘She’s, er, not very well.’
‘I’m a paramedic. We’ll soon have you in hospital, love. There’s nothing to worry about.’
‘Not to worry,’ the other man said as he opened the stretcher. ‘There we are. Have you there in a jiffy.’
She nodded and tried to smile.
Two minutes later the woman and the two uniformed men were on their way in the ambulance; Mr Hobson was back in his office wiping his forehead with a handkerchief; Cyril Widdowson was in his little cubicle next to the bank vault franking letters ready to take to the post office in his lunch hour, and the man outside, sitting on the stool in front of the solicitor’s office next to the bank, smiled, poured himself another cup of coffee from the flask and rested the headphones momentarily round his neck.
The Bromersley branch of The Great Northern Bank resumed its normal business of accepting other people’s money, investing other people’s money, paying out other people’s money and retaining a small but healthy percentage for its directors, staff and shareholders, in the process.
However, after a quiet few minutes had passed, there erupted the most abominable stink from the smallest room, accompanied by a stream of water gushing out under the door.
The smell pervaded Cyril’s Widdowson’s cubicle, also the sound of running water. He acted immediately. He rushed over to the source of the ghastly smell. He held his nose and pushed open the loo door. Water was running down the wall from the lavatory cistern. He closed the door quickly.
He splashed back to his cubicle, picked up the phone on the wall, pressed a button and the manager, Mr Hobson, answered.
‘What is it now, Widdowson?’ he said irritably.
‘We need a plumber urgently, sir. There’s liquid running from the staff toilet and there’s the most awful smell.’
‘What?’ he said. ‘Well, get the usual ones. The ones we always use. The ones head office has approved.’
‘Right, sir.’
Minutes later, two men with beards in overalls and carrying toolboxes arrived in the bank at the security door and pressed the button.
Widdowson saw them through the window in the security door and opened it two inches.
‘What’s the trouble?’ the older of the two said.
Widdowson peered at them through the crack. ‘You’re not our usual plumber.’
‘No. He can’t come himself, he’s on an emergency job in Mexborough. We work for him. He said it would be all right if we explained. He said that the caller said it was very urgent. The boss can call later this afternoon when he’s finished there. We’ve come off a job at the Town Hall. Of course, if you don’t want us to see to it, we can leave and go back to the job we’re on.’
They turned to leave.
The smell from behind and the sound of running water was in Widdowson’s ears. His stomach turned over and then turned back again. He opened the door wider and called them back.
‘No. I er—’
He swallowed. ‘I’ll have to check with the manager.’
‘Yes, all right, but what exactly is the problem?’ the older man said pressing on the door. ‘Hadn’t you better let us see what it is, while we’re here. It might be getting worse. Oh, what a stink!’
The smell was truly awful.
Widdowson hesitated. His grip on the door relaxed a little.
The two men in boiler suits pushed and they were through it, taking the bank guard with them. The door closed and the lock clicked.
‘You can’t come in here without—’
The leader pulled out a Walther PPK/S and jabbed
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