incident

By the time the police arrive, Andrew is running naked through the
town centre. We try to pretend that he isn't a part of us, but he
insists on group hugging everyone and proclaiming we're the best
friends he's ever had. Now I really want to cry. If he finds out that
the last number dialled on my mobile is 999 then I know things will get
physical again. The lady from the Red Cow is regaining consciousness
and the policemen and ambulance crew are getting out of their vans.
Andrew sees the officers heading our way and runs back towards Rose
Crescent. This has been the worst night out I've ever had.

'Can you tell me what exactly is going on?'

The officer raises his spiky grey eyebrows. His eyes flit from person
to person. Feet shuffle. Throats are cleared.

'What happened?'

There is a broken parasol lying across the market stall in front of us
and a muddy white shirt on the cobbles underneath it. A pair of sodden
black trousers, legs spread, have been abandoned on the pavement
outside the pub.

'If you don't want to tell me here, then we'll have to do it at the
station and I think you'll agree that would be a waste of time for all
of us?'

'It was me.'

Guilt forces my confession. Regret immediately halts it. The officer is
waiting for details, so I buy more time by starting to cry. I didn't
need to bother as Andrew appears at top speed around the corner, now
sporting a pair of handcuffs and a crazy grin. I cry louder. He runs
across the cobbles and into the nest of empty market stalls. Four
policeman scramble in after him and we stand holding our breath until
frantic shouting announces his successful recapture. He is led towards
the van, a luminous yellow jacket covering his soggy exposed body.
Seeing him like this evokes huge feelings of pity and love which I
can't suppress.

'Don't hurt him!'

But he has already been settled into the back of the van. He peers
helplessly through the cage door, catches my eye and waves. I laugh. I
laugh until I can't breathe or see, until I don't know why I'm
laughing, until the van leaves. The policeman with the spiky grey
eyebrows is still here and still waiting to know what happened.

'My brother has problems. He needs looking after. I only left him alone
for ten minutes.'

The lady from the Red Cow is looking over at us and pointing to me with
a finger like an evil witch's magic wand. I half expect to turn into a
frog, but she just stabs the air as the paramedics stem the flow of
blood from her head wound. Andrew isn't always violent, but certain
things provoke him. If the lady had given him salted peanuts then none
of this would have happened. The security camera on the side of the
guildhall wall whirrs and clicks as it swivels into a better position.
The thought that a tape of the incident might exist is enough to make
me retch, although by now I lack the energy to vomit.