It was chill outside when we left the bar to walk home, but nowhere near as cold as it had been a few weeks ago when we arrived. These streets of Tottenham seemed much friendlier now. I’d heard that this burrough is the most ethnically diverse in London, and us two Australians seemed to have dropped into it without making the tinniest of noises.
We walked down the same alley that had once intimidated us. I went into the offlicence and chatted to the Turkish owner as I brought a couple of beers and a chocolate for Em. Down through the back alley we went to the fron of the house. Em pointed out that Ben’s motorbike looked really damaged. He’s a courier and his bike had damage to the fairing down oneside and his windscreen was smashed.
“Wonder if he’s alright?” Em spoke for both of us.
Ben was on the couch with his foot up on the coffee table with a professional looking bandage around his ankle.
“Oh what happened Ben?” Em asked, always keen to involve herself in medical drama. “We saw your bilke?” Are you alright?”
“Yeh I’m not..too…bad….considering…” He left it hanging. He might have been on medication along with the gin he appeared to have been drinking.
“Does it hurt? Tell us what happened?” Em continued.
This’ll take a while I thought and slumped into the couch whilst cracking a can.
“Wasn’t much really. I was way out in potters bar. I’d been given a delivery first thing this morning and when I got their I just couldn’t find the place. The office apparently couldn’t work out how the order had got onto the system, and said they couldn’t track down exactly where I was supposed to be or who was supposed to get charged, which has been bloody happening to me all week by the way. No one else you know. Just me! Anyway I’m on the way back when this, this woman..this bloody woman.. ” He looked at me as if to communicate all sorts of horrible things about her, but wouldn’t in front of Em.
“This woman suddenly swings open a car door in front of me. I just make out her leg in high heels about to step out and this car door which covers all the space between the car and the footpath. I swerved to miss it, went over the curb on an angle, lost balance and slid down the road.”
He’d told the story quite quickly and it had a polished feel to it.
“Did they stop and help you?” Em asked with concern.
He snorted. “They bloody sped off is what they did! She didn’t even get out of the car. I tell you. It was like they did it deliberately.”
“What a fucking bitch!” Em yelled with feeling.
We both looked at her, Ben with a sense that she had just used exactly the words that he himself would have liked to have used.
“So are you alright, what injuries do you have/” Em continued.
“Its my ankle and my foot. I’ve also sprained my shoulder a bit.”
“Will insurance cover it all?” I asked with mild interest.
“I bloody hope so. That’s the thing you see. The car didn’t stop and I was in the middle of nowhere. There aren’t any witnesses.”
“Does that matter?” Em asked.
“Its like in Australia.” I joined in. “Everytime someone has a car accident by themselves, they blame it on a kangaroo.”
“Yes exactly.” Ben agreed. “It sounds like a story. It SOUNDS LIKE (he stressed) I crashed by myself and have spun a tale to cover it. Well I don’t care what they think. It bloody happened.”
