George and Spider - The Execution cont'd

'It's bloody freezing Fran!' said Arthur as he bent to unlock the front door of his jewellery shop.

Francis screwed up his nose and stepped back, a waft of expensive aftershave had been released from a little gape in his father's jacket. 'Yeah - Winter's on it's way,' he said.

'That's funny, back door's unlocked.'

'Oh that'll be George, remember, it's his big day today, doing that job isn't he?'

Arthurs face dropped. 'Oh that,' he said, 'I'm trying not to think about that. Wish I'd never bloody agreed to it.'

'I told you Dad!'

'You're a wiser man than me Fran - a wiser man than me.'

Arthur went outside and began to draw up the metal shutters, but he stopped suddenly and the flesh on his face contracted; something wasn't right, he felt it throughout his body, like a big stone had hit his heart. There was a dog barking, he'd never heard such a dog bark before, and it sounded close, as if in the yard. Crystal didn't bark, she didn't need to, being as hard as nails as she was. Her lack of bark was one of George's excuses for having got her when his father had forbidden dogs in the flat.

Arthur felt the hairs on the back on his neck stand up. Crystal was barking in the shed, something was horribly wrong. Arthur dropped the metal shutter and rushed back into the shop.

'Can you hear that Fran? It's Crystal that is, she's barking! Something's happened to Georgy!'

He rushed out, slipping slightly as he ran on the frosty paving stones, his shoes clomping like hooves across the yard. The shed door was jammed, it would only open an inch or so, Arthur pushed hard but something pushed back, a lifeless lump on the floor and the parcial face of a very anxious dog at the gap. A wave of panic swept through Arthur's mind, he pushed the door using all of his strength and the lump moved, enough for him to step inside. George was unconsious, blood was running in a thick line down his forehead and Crystal was licking it off between desperate canine wimpers. A fallen chair lay next to them and the radio was still buzzing on the desk.

Francis had joined them at the doorway. 'Oh no has he? How long do you think he's been there Dad?'

'God knows! George? Georgy, can you hear me?' Arthur shouted, shaking his son by the shoulders. He removed his leather jacket, folded it into a sort of cushion and placed it behind George's head. 'He's a bloody gonna Fran! George! Wake up NOW!'

Francis dithered nervously. 'Shall I call an ambulance Dad?'

Arthur rubbed his forehead and wiped away a tear. 'Oh God, I don't know - shall we give him another minute? He'll go mad if an ambulance comes for him.'

'But what if he doesn't come round?'

Arthur stared down at his son. Time stood still for a few seconds as he was simply fascinated by the sight of George in such a vulnerable state which contrasted so sharply with his regular prickly, defensive personality. Then Arthur began to panic, the curly green veins around his temple bulged as he began clumsily to slap George's face, the huge palms of his hands striking George's sharp white cheekbone again and again. Then he stopped and moved back, feeling horribly guilty suddenly. It had been a few years since he'd seen George in this state, many more since he'd slapped him.

'Oh Christ! What am I doing! Yes Fran, Yes! Call an ambulance, go!'

'Okay Dad.'

'No! Hang on, wait, he's opening his eyes.'

George moved his head and blinked a couple of times, then he groaned and slipped back for a few more seconds of oblivion.

'George, it's okay son, we're here.'

George saw the round-shouldered silhouette of his elder brother Francis leaning against the doorway of the shed and then the giant figure of his father crouched down, looming over him.

'He's cut his head Dad.'

'I know, I know. He must have caught it on that bloody heater.'

George tried to sit up, his stomach muscles straining with fatique. 'I'm alright,' he said, slurring slightly. 'The doily house burnt to the ground. The box has gone, there's no box.'

'He's talking gobbledegook Dad.'

'I know Fran, just give him a few minutes to get back to the land of the living.'

George pushed the dog's face away from his and pulled up his knees, leaning forward and resting his forearms upon them.

'Oh thank God,' said Arthur exhaling. 'You've been out for ten minutes!'

'It's only been four Dad,' said Francis who'd been timing the event with the stop-watch feature on his wrist watch.

'He was out when we found him Fran! Who know how long it's been!'

George reached out and feebly patted Crystal on the head. 'I'm fine,' he said, 'You can leave me now, I'm fine.'

'You're most certainly not fine! Have you been taking your tablets George?'

'He thinks he can manage without them Dad.'

George flashed his brother an angry look and said, 'I don't want to - infect the workings of my head with tablets. Fuck off! Just bloody fuck off will you. Leave me alone, I'm tired. Get your fucking faces out of mine!' he said, throwing his fist and just missing his father's nose.

Arthur stood up straight to get out of the firing line, then he looked across to Francis who just shrugged. Niether wanted to leave George, sho was getting up now, leaning on his desk and screwing up his face as he felt the crotch of his trousers to make sure there was no wet patch.

'We can't leave you George. Come with us into the shop, you don't have to do anything, you can just sit.'

'No! You go into the shop Fran - and you Dad! Just leave me alone. I've got things to do and my back hurts.' George put his hand up the back of his top and felt grazed skin on his lower back. 'Did you open the shed door onto my back Dad?'

Arthur sighed and said, 'I had to get in somehow! What do you think brought this on George, are you stressed?'

George shook his head. 'Spider's got - the dentist, that's all.'

'The dentist? George, for Christ's sake!'

'Just go Dad. Leave me alone!'

Arthur sighed, blowing out his cheeks and shaking his head. Are you sure George? I could run you up to the doctors, give you a check over?'

'Doctors! Keep me away from them, they're dangerous bastards, they know fuck!' said George, picking up his chair and sitting in it.

Arthur and Francis exchanged a few hushed words, then Arthur said, 'We'll be back.'

'Yes,' said Fran, 'We'll come and check on you in a bit.'

'Whatever.'

George switched the radio back on. He was able to tune into the police force now, listen to their CB exchanges. He checked his reflection in a tiny mirror he had fixed to the wall. There was something odd about his face, something had changed, he'd been somewhere, far far away and now he had to adjust again to the waking world. He was cross too, angry, seething with anger. Not really knowing why, he banged his fist on the desk and swore several times. Poor Crystal cowered in her little pile of cushions. He looked down at her and felt instantly guilty. Rather roughly he handed her a doggy chew from her jar, she took it gingerly, exposing the white at the side of her eyes.