Anyone Who Had a Heart by Malcolm Henshall

I attend a creative writing class in Leeds and am writing a novel. It is based on the life of a family who have a child with profound and multiple learning difficulties. Much of the content will be humorous, the following not so much so. It may or may not form part of the book...


     I’d noticed her in Home Bargains a few minutes earlier. She had that tough look about her - a great big tattoo across her neck. She reminded me of the girl with the dragon tattoo but without the good looks. I can’t begin to tell you how many piercings she had in unsuitable locations. She had a surly ‘don’t you cross me’ air surrounding her. All the shoppers were giving her a wide berth. I wouldn’t swear to it in court but I’m pretty sure I saw her putting an extra large bag of Haribos inside her coat.

     Avoiding the Sky man, the Help for Heroes collecting tin and averting my eyes from the strange phenomenon of ‘threading’, I pushed Ruby down to the cheap bookshop. It’s useful having Ruby with you sometimes. Whether it’s embarrassment or pity, those charming, full-of-life, cheerful, out-of-work postgraduate ‘chuggers’ never stop me when I’m with Ruby, even when they’re collecting for Mencap.

     As soon as we reached the bookshop I realised I couldn’t get the chair in there. Ruby didn’t mind, she just wanted the cafe.

     “We’ll go to the Costa up the other end of the centre,” I told her. Ruby stared blankly into the distance. As we were passing Home Bargains again, a woman rushed out slap bang into the side of Ruby’s chair.

     “Fucking Norah,” she said. “I almost went arse over tit old man. Mind where you’re going.” I looked to see who was shouting at me. It was that woman.

     “It’s you who should be minding,” I said quietly, bending to check Ruby was OK. The blank stare remained unaltered.

     “Who d’you think you’re talking to, you old git?” 

     I knew it wasn’t a good idea getting into an argument but I couldn’t stop myself.  “I was just stating the bleedin’ obvious,” I said as I straightened up.

     “Shouldn’t be allowed,” she said. I wasn't sure whether I was meant to hear that.

     “What shouldn’t be allowed?”

     “Wheelchairs.”

     “What about the people in them?” I said.

     “Them too, shouldn’t be allowed.” As she said this she grinned. I should have gone at that point but was feeling angry, protective and hurt.

     “What do you mean?” I said.

     “Put ‘em down at birth,” she said.

     “You serious?”

     “Deadly.”

     “She’s worth ten of you,” I said. At that moment I meant it.

     “Dream on old man,” she said as she continued on her way. Ruby lifted her head and I swear she smiled. I shouted after the woman.

     “Go on, get on with your sad, miserable, lonely life.” She looked round and her face told me I was right. I felt ashamed. She turned into the British Heart Foundation shop.

I just hope she found one.