Written on 9 February 2019
The first thought when I saw him, all red in the face, watery eyed, the bald little potato head, was that it was my Dad.
Of course it couldn't be, this guy can't have been older than 40, and Dad would be in his sixties now. Still, the way his voice quivered, the resemblance to a petulant child, even when he was waving a pistol around, were reminiscent of my handful of memories about my Dad.
It was also the kind of stupid fucking thing he would do. Holding up a coffee shop. For Christ's sake, no one pays with cash anymore. The last time I had seen Dad he was being dragged out of our house by the police, my Mum screaming at him, promising he'd never be allowed in our house again. Stupid idiot. Robbing a petrol station. At least there was more cash floating about back then, but the cashier recognised his voice. Of course he did. Dad went there more or less every day. They were on first name terms.
I got down on the floor with everyone else. This guy looked too nervous to seriously shoot anyone, but there was always a chance he might do it accidentally.
He began shouting at the barista. What do you mean this is all you have? What did you expect, you moron? It was like he’d got the idea from Pulp Fiction, though with none of the style or the sexy sidekick. Idiot.
He started collecting people's phones, which was even dumber. The moment he left there they could trace him in about a million different ways.
“You. Phone. Now.” I looked up at him. Sweat was beading on his head, dripping a few inches from where I lay on the ground. A look of comprehension came across his face. Sirens were getting nearer.
“Coral?”
It can't have been him. Unless he aged surprisingly gracefully.
“Is Bob Thorne your dad?”
If you're him I'm going to beat you to death.
“I'm your half brother! I'm Gavin!” Eurgh. The idiot had more idiots. “I'd recognise you anywhere. Dad always talks about you. Has photos everywhere.” He must have printed them off from Facebook.
“Hi Gavin.” I said calmly, still laying on the ground as the police cars pulled up. “Nice to meet you brother.”