Arthur lived on his own, in the council flat he had brought his bride home to 51 years ago. Where they had raised their three kids and seen them fly the nest, and where he had held his Irene as she breathed her last. He had been on his own for seven years, life was quiet, too quiet. But that was about to change on this October morning.
Stick in one hand and coffee in the other, Arthur concentrated on every step down the dim hallway from the kitchen to the living room. The morning news was warbling from the radio on the oak sideboard, next to the statue of the Virgin. At 72 years old even taking his morning coffee to the living room required a lot of effort; it felt further every morning. He paused at the sideboard and smiled at Irene in the wedding photo,
"Aye lass it's kinda sore this morning," he said,
"I still miss you lass." he turned to face his armchair beside the window.
Daylight was seeping through the tilted venetian blinds, darkness was slowly receding,"maybe I'll see you soon lass."Suddenly the room shook with a sound akin to an explosion. The front door bounced off the wood panelling in the hallway.The coffee fell from his hand, he turned towards the noise of feet hurrying to meet him. The masked man crossed the room in two strides grabbing Arthur by the throat
,"right grandad, where's the money kept?" he said pulling the old man away from the window.
"git aff ye hooligan!" Arthur swung his stick feebly, snatching it the attacker threw it across the room, it clattered on the sideboard knocking the radio to the floor and the wedding photo shattered off the wall.
"NO!" Arthur threw a weak fist in vain. He was thrown to the floor.
The dark figure towering over him laughed and bent down grabbing a handful of green tartan housecoat
,"last chance, where's your cash old man," he spat through his yellow teeth.Arthur was trembling, his hip was on fire with pain. He glared back at his attacker,
"NO! Ah have nothin' to give you."
"Is that right, we'll see about that," the young man drew his hand back to strike, but he stopped.
Something or someone held his wrist. suddenly the room was bathed in a glowing light, both men turned and gazed towards the source of the light, the statue of Mary still on the sideboard shone brilliantly,
"what the...!" the robber covered his eyes, the pain in his head was unbearable,
"stop! stop it!" he released Arthur and stumbled back.
He turned and ran up the hallway out into the garden.The light disappeared, the room was peaceful again in the growing daylight and the sound of chirping birds.
Arthur wasn't fully sure of what had just happened, "thank you," he found himself saying. He managed to pull himself across to his chair and phone for the police.
He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, down the garden path and into the quiet street. The pain had left his head , but his heart was still galloping. What had just happened? He tucked his mask into his pocket and headed for the Kingsway ring road at a jog. As he turned up the Timex Brae past the old factory he heard the first wails of distant sirens, they were getting closer.It wouldn't take long for them to be on to me, he thought.
Walking faster he reached the end of Harrison Road when he saw the police car parked in Rosemount road on his left, Where did they come from? He put his head down turning right and walked smartly towards Downfield and the safety of home.
"keep the head man" he whispered to himself. But it was too late, the two coppers had paused their chatter - they had clocked the suspicious guy out early on a Sunday morning walking fast. The approach of sirens made their decision - they stepped out the patrol car,
"Hoy!" one of them called as they marched towards him. That was his starting pistol, he burst into a full sprint - they gave instant pursuit.
"Stop!" one officer called, as they gained on him. Crossing Gullane Avenue he glanced behind - they were closing on him fast, he never saw the car reversing out of the drive. The vauxhall juddered to a stop with the impact.
An officer checked the unconscious suspect on the roadside, the other comforted the shocked driver,
"I never saw him at all officer," the man said as he leaned on his car,
"It's okay, it wasn't your fault," the officer said,
"He's not gonna die but he will be in hospital for a wee while, so don't worry," he reassured the shaken gent. "It's just a formality," he said taking out his notebook, "what's your name sir?"
"of course, no problem - it's Father Bernard Murphy of St. Marys' Chapel."
Arthur smiled as he read the article in the local paper regarding his morning visitor a week earlier, putting the paper down he looked over at the newly framed photo,
"Aye lass, now that's what I call divine justice", he chuckled.
He felt quite tired and a bit warm down his right side, he smiled at Irene and, she smiled back.
