Bruno Crane

The Friend

‘Here within the hour,’ the manager said.

I make it back to my room without anyone trying to lock me up.

But I could feel the eyes on me as I passed through the corridors, could hear the muttering.

It’s quite clear they’ll all be crowing to the police as soon as they get here with tales of my misdeeds.

I have to get out of this place or I’m as much of a fool as a frog that stays in a pan of boiling water.

I’ll be suspect number one, and then they’ll search my room.

I’ve got the couple of bars of gold I took last night while Narracott wasn’t watching, at least. It’s not much – it’s certainly not what I’d hoped for – but it’ll pay off some of my debts and keep my head above water for a while.

And freedom is a damn sight better than the hangman’s noose.

The train is the safest way out of here.

There is just the small matter that I have never driven a train before, but how hard can it be?

Surely the thing practically drives itself.

I gather my belongings, the two bars of gold, thinking what a stupid, trusting fool I was.

How I wish I’d had the gall to steal more!

Then I leave this place for the last time.

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