DAVID GAFFNEY

Escape

I had some time to kill before my train back to Manchester so I decided to do a little bit of shoplifting, as I was in short supply of certain easy to thieve items like razor blades, paisley scarves, marmalade and tins of anchovies. The sort of things a gentleman would steal, men who have jobs like rare book dealer or wine merchant, or who write mischievous crossword clues about cravats. I had stuffed a tin of anchovies down my trousers and was just on my way out of the shop when I was stopped in my tracks by the vision of my mother standing by the door, staring at me accusingly. My mother had died four years earlier and had lived in west Cumbria a long way from Nottingham. Even if she had climbed out of her grave she would have struggled to get to Nottingham, which would require a southern bound train and then an east bound one, probably a change at Carlisle and another at Manchester. And for someone who was already dead I’m not sure that would be doable. My conscience pricked by these maternal thoughts, I returned the anchovies to the shelf and went back towards the exit. But again I saw my mother by the door. It was then I realised it was a cardboard cut-out with an image of my mother projected on to it in a very life-like way, in the same place they usually position cardboard policemen to deter people from stealing. A member of staff was very proud to tell me how this system worked. When you enter the shop a computer scans your phone for pictures of relatives – mothers work best but if there’s a father we will use that – and then we customise a projection for each shopper. Only you see your own mother; other people see their own mothers or even wives, girlfriends, sisters, all kinds. It works as a deterrent very well. We are trialling it in Nottingham. There was a small blip a few weeks ago when several dead mothers managed to escape from the cardboard cut-out and they went into town together shopping and having coffee and cake. I thought about my mother and the sticky gingerbread she used to make which I would hide down the back of the storage heater in my bedroom.

David Gaffney lives in Manchester. He is a writer with a specialism in short stories and prose poetry. He has published widely and collaborated with artists working in many different art forms. He is the author of three novels, most recently Out Of The Dark (2022), plus a number of short story collections, as well as several graphic novels with Dan Berry, most recently Rivers (2021). His collection of short stories, Concrete Fields, (Salt 2023) was longlisted for the Edgehill prize and his collection of prose poetry Whale was published in 2024 on Osmosis press. He is Senior Manager for literature at Arts Council England.