Everything comes to those who wait

Phil Armstrong - brother Armstrong to certain of his acquaintances - thumbed the red button on his mobile.

He turned to the man standing next to him who, looking expectantly at him, asked "well?"

"Well, brother - our orders are clear. We're to wait, and then wait some more. And there's to be no rough stuff unless - and I quote - it's absolutely necessary, of course."

"Of course, brother."

"Yes. But then, I suppose it's up to us to decide what is and isn't necessary, if you catch my meaning."

His companion smiled. The idea of a little fun would make the waiting much easier. Not that either of them felt particularly at ease, waiting outside this grotty flat.

Just then, an old lady came towards them, waving her arms and apparently in some distress. Breathless, she managed to say "excuse me, are you waiting for the young lad who lives here? Only he seems to have had some kind of accident, just down the road there."

She put her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. "Can you come and give us a hand? I've left my friend looking after him, but I think he needs a doctor."

The two men exchanged glances, then Armstrong said, "alright love, can you take us to him?"

As the three of them hurried - at a winded old lady's pace - along the road towards the alleyway, Alice reflected on how easily people allowed themselves to be taken in by the most implausible of stories. Especially if they were told by a harmless old lady.

As they turned off the street into the alley, the two men didn't know what hit them.

Having met Margaret however, Adam could have told them.



Story starts here.