Paws for Alarm by Marian Babson Page A

London all day – as usual. He’d warned me that he might be a bit late as there were a couple of bookshops in Charing Cross Road he wanted to visit. I knew Arnold when he got into a bookshop – he looked on them as libraries with price tags – he was almost impossible to dislodge until the place closed for the night.
    So I wasn’t surprised at how late he was. Annoyed, but not surprised.
    I turned the oven to its lowest setting and worked off my irritation by whipping cream with a manual eggbeater. When the doorbell rang – just like him to forget his key again – I ignored it. I heard the twins’ footsteps racing for the door. Then:
    â€˜Hey, Mom –’ Donald shouted gleefully. ‘Guess what? Dad’s under arrest!’
    â€˜I am not!’ Arnold bellowed.
    I dropped the eggbeater on the table and it rolled to the floor, scattering dollops of cream all the way. I was vaguely aware of a delighted Esmond advancing upon this unexpected largesse as I dashed for the front door.
    I took one look at Arnold – held upright by a policeman on either side of him – and screamed. I had never done that before. But I had never seen Arnold in such a condition before, either.
    He had a black eye, a large bump on his forehead and a graze on his cheek. One arm was bandaged, his shirt bloodstained, his glasses bent askew. He held himself strangely, as though there might be a cracked rib or two.
    â€˜It’s all right, honey,’ Arnold said. ‘It just looks a lot worse than it is.’
    â€˜Arnold! What happened?’
    â€˜I don’t know.’ He shook himself free of the policemen. ‘I was waiting for the train. There’d been a big game somewhere today and Waterloo Station was full of soccer hooligans. But they were at the other end of the station. I thought we were okay down at my end. There were several of us waiting for the platform gate to open.’
    â€˜It was a fight!’ Donald’s eyes gleamed. ‘Did you win, Dad? What do the other guys look like?’
    â€˜It was no contest,’ Arnold snapped. ‘The last thing I remember, there was shouting and suddenly all the hooligans charged towards us. We scattered. I felt a thump between my shoulder blades. It spun me round. Fortunately, I flung my arm up –’ He paused thoughtfully and went off into one of those analytical asides that are going to drive me crazy someday.
    â€˜It was sheer instinct. My hand went automatically to my throat to protect it. It must be one of those gestures arising from race memories: always protect the jugular vein. I’d had no idea I was going to do it. It was –’
    â€˜Arnold!’
    â€˜Just as well you did, sir,’ one of the policemen said. ‘From the looks of your arm, he was stabbing for the heart.’
    â€˜Yes, well, that was when I fell and they began kicking me.’
    â€˜Arnold!’
    â€˜It’s okay, honey. The doctor patched me up –’ He swayed abruptly and the policemen closed in on both sides again.
    â€˜The doctor wanted to keep him in hospital for twenty-four hours,’ the other policeman said, ‘but he wouldn’t have it. Signed himself out. Said he had to get home to you and the kids. Best if you put him to bed now, though.’
    â€˜Yes, yes, of course.’
    â€˜Didn’t you catch the guys?’ Donald had inherited his father’s carping nature. He glared at the police accusingly. ‘Did you let them get away?’
    â€˜We weren’t there.’ The police were stung. ‘We answered a call and got there the same time as the ambulance. The gang had disappeared by then.’
    â€˜If I’d been there, I’d of got them,’ Donald said savagely. ‘They can’t do that to my Dad!’
    â€˜I’d have got them, too,’ Donna echoed.
    â€˜Please, kids –’ Arnold was swaying again. ‘It’s all over. Let it