Page 14 of Flowers Go Flying in Crumbleton

Luckily for Murray – she’d either had a slightly evil sense of humour, or the ward had simply become too busy to waste a bed on the guy who’d got into a fight with a bunch of flowers. Either way, the scan must have come back clear - because he’d been sent packing after just two nights.

If he was honest, Murray was feeling like a bit of a fraud. There didn’t seem to be much wrong with him other than the modest bump on his head where the bouquet had landed. It felt like he should have something a bit more dramatic to show for the whole thing – especially considering the chaos it had caused.

Apparently.

He couldn’t remember much about it.

Stretching in his seat, Murray let out a soft groan. There might not be much wrong with him other than the bump and a few bruises – presumably from where he’d hit the ground – but boy did he ache!

Murray’s suit didn’t look much happier than he did. A couple of days spent screwed up on a chair beside his hospital bed certainly hadn’t been very kind to it.

He blew out a long breath, impatient to get home so that he could get changed, grab some paracetamol and then a much-needed nap. Still… he knew he should thank his lucky stars that he was on his way home. It could have been so much worse. At least he hadn’t broken anything.

Well… maybe his pride… but that was another story!

‘Heavy weekend?’

Murray’s eyes met those of the taxi driver in the rear-view mirror. Brian Singer was grinning at him – clearly taking his rumpled appearance as the sign of a walk-of-shame after a damn good blow-out.

If only!

‘Something like that!’ said Murray, forcing himself to return Brian’s smile, even though it seemed to offend the bongo player inside his skull - if the renewed thumping was anything to go by.

Murray had called Brian to pick him up from the train station. He hadn’t really felt up to facing public transport, but the hospital was a bit too far from Crumbleton to warrant a taxi all the way back. At least the short train ride had meant he could be returning from anywhere. If the chatty cabby didn’t know what had happened at the wedding, Murray certainly wasn’t going to be the one to fill him in.

He knew that it wasn’t really his fault he’d got walloped over the head by a flying bridal bouquet, but it was hardly something he wanted to broadcast either. If Murray had his way, the whole incident would never be mentioned again…

‘Well – your weekend can’t have been as bad as one of the blokes who went to the Dolphin and Anchor wedding on Saturday!’ chuckled Brian.

Huh, so much for keeping the whole thing quiet!

‘Oh?’ said Murray vaguely.

‘Poor blighter had quite a nasty accident!’ said Brian. ‘He got clonked on the head by a bunch of flowers.’

‘Really?’ muttered Murray, cringing slightly.

‘Yep – had to be airlifted out of town too!’

Murray let out a snort of surprised laughter, but luckily Brian mistook it as a sound of shock.

‘I know – I couldn’t believe it either,’ he said, his eyes going wide in the rear-view mirror. ‘I wasn’t in town at the time – I had a fare over to Crumbleton Sands – but I heard all about it when I got back. I can’t imagine where the helicopter managed to land – maybe they did one of those hover-manoeuvres where they haul you up in a basket?’

‘Erm… maybe?’ said Murray. The pounding in his head was growing even louder – probably from the sheer pressure of trying to stop a wave of giggles from escaping.

‘Anyway,’ said Brian. ‘I heard there were police and ambulances and the fire brigade and everything… though I’m not exactly sure what they were all doing there.’

‘No… I can’t imagine,’ choked Murray as a full-blown chortle erupted from his throat.

Brian shot him a look of concern. Perhaps he thought he was crying or something.

‘Ah now, lad!’ he said consolingly. ‘I’m sure whoever it was will be fine… though they did say there was an awful lot of blood!’

Murray bit his lip and leaned back against the seat, shaking his head in amusement. He could only marvel at Crumbleton’s storytelling prowess. Of course, he had been unconscious for the whole thing, so there was a faint possibility there really had been a helicopter… and fire engines… and the police… but somehow, he doubted it!

As for there being blood everywhere…? If that was true, it certainly hadn’t come from him. Murray didn’t even have a scratch on him – just the less-than-impressive bump on his noggin.

Brian was still chattering away in the front seat about how much he wished he could have seen it all.

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