Book 2, Chapter 10

I bent down to pick up something imaginary dropped on the floor as 'the parrot man' and his partner passed our table on their way to the bar, not raising my head until they were safely clear.

"She enjoyed dancing so much. It was her that started me dancing but now she won't go out the house."

Slowly I realised what John was saying as I absorbed that first he was married but then maybe widowered (or is that widowed), but no his wife was shut in his house… and now she is housebound… "Why can't she leave the house?"

"Oh, she could but she won't! It's the scars. After the car crash she needed physiotherapy to get moving which is why I learnt to give dance therapy. We did it at home so now she can dance again but she won't leave the house. I say won't but she has left it when I've refused to buy food but she never leaves for pleasure, only necessity!"

As we were chatting and I tried to understand the problems John and his wife were having the 'parrot man' and his partner finished their drinks and departed with no sign of recognition, letting me breathe a sigh of relief. Just 10 minutes later John and I had finished our own drinks so we headed for the car park where John showed his style by opening the passenger door for me.

"Bitch!" came a scream and out of the dark a man charged straight at me only being diverted by John throwing himself between us. It all happened so fast: the man cannoned into the side of the car and dropped to the ground while John staggered back through the car door into the passenger seat and sat looking at a knife sticking out of his chest. "Bitch!" again it came, this time as a snarl as my attacker started to rise to meet my foot swung with all the force I could muster straight under his chin.

"Get me to hospital" said John holding up the car keys. Looking down at the unconscious man on the ground I fumbled for my phone saying "I'll call an ambulance."

"No time!" insisted John, so sure of himself that I immediately swung his legs into the car and grabbing the keys shut the passenger door.

"So who was this man in the pub?" the policeman asked as we sat in the waiting room at the hospital.

It was nearly 2 miles from the pub to the hospital and it had taken me no more than 2 minutes to drive it through Cardiff city centre. There had been no need to call the police as, for the last part of the journey, we were being chased by a police car with its light flashing and siren wailing which screeched to a halt behind me in the ambulance bay at the entrance to Accident and Emergency.

Everybody was wonderful! The ambulance drivers waiting outside took charge - one of them even parking the car and paying the admission ticket for me before giving me back the keys. The police took me inside the hospital from where I phoned John's home and gave his wife the news before their own questioning started. Finally when I became aware that I could easily be arrested, handcuffed and taken to the police station they allowed me to call Mr Davis, my solicitor, who arrived at the hospital within 10 minutes.

Maybe that is what people are really like given half a chance and there was no connection between their behaviour and the fact that they were all male and I was an 18 year old attractive female, in shock and pumping out enough pheromones to floor a bison!

While Mr Davis was giving the police the details of 'the parrot case' John's wife arrived by taxi and after going to reception was pointed in my direction. I've seen worse scars on television but she would have drawn attention walking down the road. Fortunately I had become used to unusual faces through the dance group which included, as well as the Down's and cerebral palsy cases, a stroke case with distorted features and a man with a livid scar but I had also become aware how rarely disfigured people are seen on the street.

As best as I could I described what had happened and how her husband had saved my life. She looked confused, I guess wondering just who I was, so I briefly explained and gave her the car keys when she said she'd seen it in the car park. By then I had to go back and give the police a formal statement which Mr Davis had got them to do on the spot but once that was done Mr Davis and the police left and all we could do is wait for news except for a brief moment when I went outside to use my mobile and explain to Mum and Dad what was happening.

Judy, that was her name, and I were talking about the dance class and how useful and enjoyable it was to the members when a doctor came through to say John was in recovery.

"He'd have bled out if he hadn't got here so quickly and it is unusual for us to see a wound that severe on a live patient but now it looks as though he will be home soon and as good as new in a couple of months if you can stop him overexerting himself."

The relief on Judy's face was palpable, like releasing a breath that has been held far too long, and I hugged her as she finally let go the tears of relief. Even after such drama life quickly becomes mundane: it would be a while before John came round and I had to think of catching the last bus home but before leaving I couldn't resist asking " We really need help at the dance class and until John is fit enough, as I know you can do it, would you please stand in for him?"

Sitting on the last bus on its meandering route to my home I had a great big grin on my face which is not bad for someone who's experienced 2 assaults in 5 days with prosecutions possible. "That man was right" I said to myself. "You are a bitch!. A highly manipulative bitch!"