Sam was in a bad way and looked absolutely dreadful, covered in his own blood as well as that of the two dead men.
He had been stabbed in the shoulder, his arm was broken and he was pretty sure his nose was too.
He needed to go to a hospital but knew it would raise too many questions.
As he staggered wounded from the alley, he was desperately trying to organise his thoughts. With everything unravelling so quickly with Merton and McCullough he had not yet formulated a contingency plan.
However, a couple of things were immediately clear, Flea and Baz were of no use to him now and his brief life as the skinhead ‘John Robinson’ was thankfully over.
That being the case, the most obvious people to turn to for help were his real friends, Vasily and Miriam. They had stuck with him through thick and thin and would hopefully understand his motives for everything once he had properly explained them.
Furthermore, Miriam, with all her medical expertise, was easily capable of tending his wounds, but Sam could not go to her at the hospital as it was just too risky.
His only alternative was to make his way to Miri’s flat and wait outside, somewhere unseen, until she returned from work. After all, he knew where she now lived, just not her actual flat number.
Feeling weary and broken, he managed to make it about half way when he suddenly felt incredibly light-headed, as if he was about to pass out.
He was on a deserted street, so stumbled as quickly as he could to a shop porch way, knowing he would be safely concealed within its shadows. Slumping down on the ground, he immediately slipped into unconsciousness and only awoke sometime later when he heard the click, click, click of shoes on the cobbles as someone walked by.
Sam looked up, certain that he saw Miriam. He called out but his voice did not come as his throat was completely dry.
As the sound of her footsteps faded, Sam scrambled painfully to his feet and set off after her as quickly as his injured body would allow.
But he could not keep up and soon she had disappeared altogether. However, Sam pressed determinedly onwards and arrived at the large Edwardian house in which Miri now lived just in time to see her closing the curtains in her top floor flat.
After that, it was relatively easy.
Hanging out with Baz had taught Sam many things, most notably how to break into a house. Indeed, Baz was skilled in the art and had turned it into something of a lucrative sideline – a couple of spells in borstal in his youth notwithstanding.
Nevertheless, Sam considered it a useful skill to have and Baz had taken great delight in teaching him.
So getting into Miriam’s flat did not present too much of a problem.
His memory of events after that, however, was all a bit vague.
He remembered waking Miri and having a brief conversation with her before the room began spinning violently.
In fact, he was in such a weakened state that his body just seemed to surrender once he had reached the sanctuary of her bedsit; his legs no longer strong enough to support him.
Yet he did recollect something from the moments immediately prior to passing out and it still puzzled him now.
For he could not remember why he had never noticed before that night just how truly beautiful Miriam was.
Continues tomorrow or download the complete novel here.