Songs of Bliss HTML version

Background noise. The sound of a dual tone siren. The club owner is being told to
calm down.
"Calm fucking down. There's two stupid bitches dying on my fucking dance floor
and you want me to calm down."
Hands on hips. The police officer who radioed for the second ambulance is joined
by his colleague.
"Yes, sir. Button it, unless you want to go for a ride."
Doors crash open as the second ambulance crew wheel their stretcher into the club
and barge through the staff to get to Bex. They are followed in short order by two plain
clothes detectives. The club owner runs his hands through his hair in an act of despair. It is
going to be a long night.
"O h great. The fucking cavalry." He can read the body language. He changes tack.
"Look, I'm sorry. It's just, well, it gets to you after a while. We run a clean place here. You
guys know that. The door security team has been vetted. We tell you when we spot stuff
going on. I'm not going to lie to you, though. I get pissed off by it, just like you do."
The two detectives walk over to the ambulance crews and check the details and
status of the two girls. Then they rejoin the uniforms.
The new ambulance crew get to grips with Bex and move her onto their stretcher,
exchanging information with the first crew. Jack checks Leona's handbag. He finds a sachet
half full of yellow powder.
"What the hell is this?"
They don?t have the luxury of time. He puts the sachet with the vial in his kit bag.
As Bex is being stabilised they wheel Leona out to their ambulance and slide the stretcher
back onto its runners. O ne of the crew climbs in with her and slams the doors shut. The
driver climbs into the cab and turns the ignition key. Strobes. The wail of a siren. Leona's
blood glucose level is already being checked and she is hooked up to the onboard oxygen
supply. Under fluorescent light reflected off the wipe clean interior of the saloon she looks
deathly pale. According to the onboard monitors she is tachycardic. Her liver and kidneys
are in freefall.
Bex goes through the same set of procedures. Radio messages are sent. Crash teams
at the North Devon Hospital are alerted. Billy is on his second large Irish. It?s fifteen
minutes past three o'clock and he is bored. He wants his little girl to come home.
Can Anyone Explain?
Twin sets of headlights break across the new Bideford bridge. At the Instow
junction blue lights flash and sirens scream through forty miles per hour warnings.
Homeward bound drivers hug the kerb as both ambulances hit seventy on the dual carriage
way section of the North Devon Expressway, heading for Roundswell and the welcoming
sodium warmth of Barnstaple's empty streets.