Crime Fragment

“So here we are again...Happy as can be...” the white haired man’s expression didn’t match the jollity of his sing-song cadenced words. There was a fixed grimace as he almost spat the words out, playing to his audience. There were a mixture of reactions ranging from embarrassed grins and downright mischievous glances from what were obviously work colleagues sharing his lunchtime pub lunch.

Abraham Dennis shuddered to himself and fixed his concentration to staying in the here and now rather than getting caught up in what was beginning to feel suspiciously like a panic attack. Breathe in, breathe out, steady, relax your hands; people will be thinking you’re going to go for them. It was a well-worn mantra that occasionally worked for him. Self consciously, he unhooked his fingers from the rictused claws they had become and closed his eyes for a moment. It was a bad one. He felt as if every fibre of his being wanted to run from the building - or to explode - or both at once. Taking a sharp breath in, he instead opened his eyes again, and mentally pushed and packaged the panic into what he could only visualise as a small room. If he let myself, he could still feel the panic scratching away in the depths, but it would hold for now.

He took the time to finish his meal – although to be fair he bolted most of it rather than savour it. This was definitely a pub from the greasy spoon end of the culinary arts. It was warm though and filling – and right at this moment that was all Dennis needed. His pager rumbled quietly at his hip again. Reluctantly he glanced down at the display.