**Diary Entry 12th April**
I never thought something like this would happen in our quiet little town.
It started like any other afternoon. Id been sitting in the garden with Margaret and Susan, sipping tea while they bickered about that nuisance down the road, old Mr. Harrison. Apparently, hed been at it againshouting drunkenly under their windows in the dead of night.
“Three years, Margaret! Three years Ive put up with it!” Susans voice trembled with indignation. “And the constable just shrugs! Says they cant do a thing unless he actually hurts someone!”
Margaret adjusted her glasses and sighed. “Hes just lost, Susan. Ever since his wife passed, hes been falling apart.”
“Lost?” Susan threw her hands up. “And what about the rest of us? My Emilys struggling in Manchester with two little ones, youve got your blood pressure to worry aboutbut we dont go howling at all hours, do we?”
I stayed quiet, stirring my tea. Every time we met, the conversation circled back to the same grievances. Today was no different.
“Lets talk about something else,” I suggested. “Its the first properly warm day of spring.”
Margaret nodded gratefully. “Youre right, dear. Always the voice of reason. Hows your Jonathan getting on?”
“Oh, same old,” I smiled. “Called from London yesterdaysome big project hes finishing. Promised to visit over the bank holiday.”
“Thats good,” Susan muttered, finally calming. “You work too hard, you know. All those hours in that dusty library”
“Susan, honestly,” I waved her off. “Sixty-two isnt ancient. Besides, I love the library. Its been my life since well, since Robert passed.”
The talk drifted to safer topicsgroceries, grandchildren, the rising cost of heating. By the time the teapot was empty, wed all relaxed.
“Id best be off,” I said, checking my watch. “Need to pop into The Glow before supper. Heard theyve got proper oats insame price as last week.”
“Dont dawdle,” Margaret warned. “Its not safe after dark lately. Constable mentioned some gang causing trouble.”
“Oh, hush,” Susan cut in. “Sophies sensible. She wont go wandering.”
Our little neighbourhood wasnt the safestjust a cluster of ageing council blocks on the edge of townbut in daylight, it was fine. The Glow was barely five minutes away.
I changed into my walking shoes, grabbed my shopping trolley, and stepped out. The sun was lovely, the first green shoots peeking through the soil. “Daffodils soon,” I thought, breathing in the crisp air.
The Glow was the sort of place where the shopkeeper knew everyone by name. I went nearly every daybread, milk, the odd tin of beans. The bell jingled as I walked in. Only two others were inside: an elderly man at the meat counter and a young mother with her toddler by the sweets.
“Afternoon, Janet,” I said to the shopkeeper, a kindly woman in her fifties. “Have the oats come in?”
“They have, Sophie,” she smiled. “Third aisle, bottom shelf.”
I nodded and headed over. Sure enough, neat bags of oats sat there, reasonably priced. I took two, then browsed the shelves.
Thats when I noticed itthe shift in the air. Janet had gone quiet mid-sentence with the old man. Her face was tense, her eyes darting. Then the bell rang again.
Two men walked in. The first was tall, wearing a cap pulled low. The second, stockier, had a face like stone. He lingered by the doorblocking it, it seemed.
I didnt think much of itjust carried on, debating whether to get baked beans. Jonathan always liked them on toast.
Then, suddenly, Janet was beside me. Her face was white.
“Find everything alright?” she asked, too loudly. Then she grabbed my wrist and hissed in my ear: “Run. Now. Through the stockroomout the back. Theyre robbers. Hit the shop on Mulberry Lane yesterday. Two women ended up in hospital.”
I froze. “This cant be happening,” I thought. But Janets grip was iron-tight, her eyes wide with terror.
“No, thank you,” I said, just as loudly, then whispered, “What about you? The others?”
“Pressed the alarm,” she breathed. “But the police wont get here in time. Gowhile theyre distracted.”
With a nudge, I was moving toward the staff door. My heart hammered as I slipped through unnoticed.
The stockroom was cramped, full of boxes. “Maybe shes mistaken?” I thought. But thena loud BANG. A scream.
I bolted for the back door, my hands shaking. It creaked open, and I stumbled into the alley, gulping fresh air.
What now? Home? Nothey might see me. Call the police? My phone was still in my trolley by the till.
I ran. Two streets down was the local police postwhere Constable Harris usually sat.
I found him locking up. “ConstableThe Glow! Theres a robberyJanet said”
His face darkened. “When?”
“Just now! Two menone in a cap, the other younger. Janet got me out the back.”
He snatched his radio. “All unitsCode Red! Armed robbery at The Glow, Mulberry Lane. Immediate response!”
Then to me: “Stay here. Dont move.”
I sat on the bench, trembling. The sound of sirens cut through the air.
An eternity later, Constable Harris returned. “Everyones alright,” he said. “Got them both. One tried to rundidnt get far.”
“The bang”
“Gas pistol. Fired into the ceiling to scare folks. Janet kept her head. So did you.”
My trolley was safe, everything inside untouched.
Later, at the station, I gave my statement. “Who were they?” I asked.
“Same pair whove hit three shops this week,” Harris sighed. “Bold as brass, daylight jobs. But thanks to you and Janet, theyre done.”
He walked me home. Susan spotted us from her window.
“Sophie! Saw the police racing offwhat happened?”
“All sorted,” Harris said. “Sophie here helped nab em.”
I flushed. “It was Janet, really.”
At home, with tea and a stiff brandy, the shock finally ebbed. Mea librarian, a widowmixed up in all this?
Jonathan called that evening, chatting about work. I didnt mention itno need to worry him. But when he mentioned visiting, I surprised myself.
“Come sooner, love. I think Ive been too alone.”
“Everything alright, Mum?”
“Just realising,” I said, watching the sunset, “you never know whats round the corner. One minute youre buying oatsthe next, someones telling you to run.”
Next day, I went back to The Glow. A security guard stood by the till now.
Janet rushed out and hugged me. “Thank God youre alright!”
“Thanks to you,” I said.
She waved me off. “Just did what anyone would. Nowthose oats still need paying for.”
I laughed. “Ill take them. And some biscuits. Jonathans coming home.”
Life settled againbut something had shifted. Maybe it was the quiet pride I felt. Or the understanding that even the safest routine can shatter in an instant.
All from two whispered words: “Run. Now.”
