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Bob of Small End

Page 27

by David Hockey


  Chapter 26 The mortgage

  Bob thought carefully about the money he had in his savings and what he would need in the future while eating lunch. He’d need about a thousand pounds to pay the balance owing on his August holiday and some more for pocket money during that tour. He could cover that by transferring two thousand pounds from his savings to his checking account. He’d do that first then tell the bank he wanted a mortgage.

  Transferring the money was easy. The teller handled that but when he told her he wanted to arrange a mortgage she told him that he would have to speak to another officer. “Please wait here and I’ll find out who’s free.” Two minutes later a young woman approached and asked him to come to her office. Once seated Bob told her that he wanted to take out a mortgage on his house.

  “I want one for seventeen thousand five hundred pounds.”

  “Why do you need the money?” she asked.

  “We need it for our business,” and he told her about their plans. “What I want is to be able to pay just the interest each month and also to be able to discharge the mortgage any time I want. Is it possible to get a mortgage like that?”

  “Yes it is. But both features make your mortgage rate a little bit more expensive.”

  “What’s the interest with those options?”

  “Ten and a half percent.”

  “All right. Then that’s what I want, please.”

  “Well I don’t think you will have any difficulty in getting a mortgage but our appraiser must check your house to see that it’s worth at least, err, thirty or thirty five thousand pounds. Almost all houses are worth more than that and I’m sure yours will be but he must see it and approve the loan before the bank will give you a mortgage.”

  “When will I know if it is approved?”

  “He’ll check your place in the next two or three business days. I’ll phone you Thursday or Friday to tell you what he says. Then if you still need the mortgage you’ll have to sign some papers.”

  “Good. Thank you very much. He’s my address,” and he gave her one of his earlier cards. “I won’t be home on Thursday I’ll be on the road, visiting our retailers. I’ll come in on Friday and find out what’s happening, if that’s all right.”

  “That’s fine. Here’s my card. My name is Mrs. Pringle. Thank you for doing business with us. Goodbye.”

  He drove to the shopping centre next, did his grocery shopping and managed to buy two bottles of Thai sauce.

  At the Crown that night Jane told everyone that the electricians had nearly finished wiring the new Centre and that the plumbers would start on Monday.

  “The construction manager phoned me Friday afternoon. He said they’d be installing the gyprock next week. I told him that volunteers from the village would paint the walls as soon as they were ready. So please be available. We’ll probably do most of it one weekend, there’d be more people to help then.”

  Jack and Joe said they’d help and Bob said he would if he could.

  “What do you mean, ‘if you could?’ Bob,” asked Joe. “Aren’t you feeling well?”

  “Oh, I’m okay. I’ll be able to help next weekend if it’s ready by then. But I’m going to London for the weekend, two weeks from now.”

  “London? What for? Are you going to deliver there?” asked Joe.

  “No. I’m going to see Maria. She’s guiding a tour and will be free on that Saturday. We’re going to see Les Mis. I won’t be home until Sunday evening.”

  “Maria Schroeder?” asked Jane.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, oh,” said Joe. “We’ll want to know all about it when you return!”

  “It won’t be as interesting as what I’ve got to tell you about Wooden Toys. Do you know that we’ll be renting the old Community Centre?”

  “I do,” said Joe.

  “No,” said Rose.

  So Bob and Jane summarised what the committee had decided and what they had done that morning.

  “Jack we’ll probably want you and John to help build the benches. The committee will tell us when we can start, hopefully by next Friday,” added Bob.

  “Ah, good. Could do wiv’ a bit more work.”

  Sunday was a bit of a let-down. Friday’s and yesterday’s excitement had cooled. He wouldn’t see Maria for two weeks and they couldn’t do anything in the Centre. There was just the washing, dusting, cleaning and some hoeing to do, none of which filled his mind with interesting thoughts.

  He looked through the windows of the new Centre as he started his afternoon walk. He could see a bit of the hall and one side of the stage. Many wires led to one corner. ‘That’s where the lighting board will be,’ he guessed. The hall didn’t look to be much larger than the one they had in the old hall; most of the extra space in this Centre was used for meeting rooms. Jane had told him they wanted lots of rooms for crafts, painting, pottery, music, bridge and, probably, woodwork. Dancing and the fitness classes would be held in the hall. The plans had been drawn after they studied how other towns designed their Community Centres. The fact that they had done that study had helped them get the grant.

  Monday was just like days of the previous week. Bob bought petrol at Tim’s garage then headed towards Bristol, visiting the gift shops he passed. He stopped after gathering eight new retailers and stayed in a motel that had a small restaurant.

  The interesting part of that day came when he called Ken.

  “Lori has had requests from three shops in your area,” he said, and he gave Bob their names.

  “I know about the second shop Ken. I’ve already called and they were very surprised that their delivery was so quick until I said I didn’t know that they’d phoned the office and that I was just looking for more customers in this area. The owner told me that his wife’s brother is already one of our retailers. That’s why they phoned. I’ll see the others tomorrow. What else has happened?”

  “The three boys the shop teacher told us about arrived at tea time this morning. Craig knew two of them. They seemed interested although one said he’d not tell his friends that he’d be making toys! However none of them would be available until mid-July which is a bit late for us. I’ve ordered all the equipment we’ll need to make an extra-long bench. I didn’t try to get second-hand stuff. Buying new meant that some of it will be delivered this week and the rest early next week. It’ll cost just over one and a half thousand pounds. I paid for them by credit card, since the sellers didn’t know us, and that means we won’t have to pay them for another month. We’ll have enough to pay them by then I’m sure.”

  “What do you mean by an ‘extra-long’ bench?”

  “I’m going to change the way we make the toys, Bob. I’ll do it all on one long bench. We’re going to have a production line.”

  “Including the sanding and the painting? How can you do that without getting sawdust in the paint and on the toys?”

  “I’m going to use exhaust ducts and strong fans. It’s a bit complicated to explain but it’s easy to understand once you’ve seen it in use.”

  “Have you ever done anything like that before?”

  “No, but I don’t see any reason for it not to work. If it doesn’t then we’ll sand and paint in separate booths.”

  “If it works I guess it’d increase production. How many sets do you think we might make in a week if we did that?”

  “Don’t know. We’re making about seven hundred now and with two or three times as many workers and a faster production process we’ll probably make three or four thousand a week.”

  “Wow! Then go for it. I’ll trust you. Did you find any more people to work for us?”

  “The secretary that Jane told us about gave me nine names. Lori called all of them and seven will come tomorrow or on Wednesday to see what the job is and I’ll tell them how much we’ll pay. I’m going to say we’ll pay one twenty five a week until they prove themselves to be as good as the people we already have. And then we’ll increase their wage to one fifty. That should give them an i
ncentive to learn quickly and do a good, error-free, job. I’ll tell them we can’t take them on until the new place is set up, which, I’m assuming, won’t be for another two weeks. But I won’t ask them to come in then. I’ll make it a week later, on July 8th; we should have settled most of the problems we’re bound to get by then.”

  “Yes, they said the new Centre should be finished by July 1st, all except painting the walls. You’ll need to order the extra paint and the box pasteboards now if you want them in two or three weeks. And you’d better let Leon know you will be ordering larger quantities of wood in the future.”

  “Ah yes. I’ll have Lori do that tomorrow. And order overalls and glasses. I have a list of things that have to be done but I haven’t put those on it.”

  “Have you included making the rubber stamps for the last paint coat?”

  “No. I’d forgotten all about that too. Make a list of all the things to be done that you can think of and give it to me when you return. You don’t need to tell me by phone unless there’s something urgent. Where are you going tomorrow?”

  “South, towards Warminister and Bath. I’ll stay there or in Bristol tomorrow night. ‘Bye Ken. Don’t overwork.”

  “I’ll try not to.”

  He told Ken he had been to eleven shops when he phoned Tuesday evening “Including the two that had called Lori. What happened with you today?”

  “The wood and paint has been ordered. Oh, and Luke said he might not go to South America in the autumn. He said he likes working here and thinks the salary is good. However Jose said that’s not the reason he’s not going, he has a girl friend now.”

  “I bet there was some teasing after he said that.”

  “Yes there was. And three men and a woman came looking for a job. Only one man and the woman said they’d like to try working here. The pay might have been too low for the others. I told the two interested ones to go to the old Community Centre at nine o’clock, Monday July 8th. Oh, I saw Jane as I was leaving and she said to tell you that the gyprock walls are being installed and they’ll need people to paint soon.”

  “Yes, I already know that.”

  “Where are you staying tonight Bob?”

  “Just outside Bristol. I’ll finish around here tomorrow then go to Weston-Super-Mare. There’ll be lots of gift shops there I bet. Plenty of tourists. I’ll call again tomorrow Ken.”

  “Ah, not tomorrow, Bob, we’re having dinner with friends and I don’t think I’ll be back that soon. You’ll come home Thursday?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you then. Take care Bob.”

  “You too Ken.”

  He slept in Weston-Super-Mare Wednesday night, tired after talking to the owners of thirteen shops. He had his dinner in a pub and began thinking, during his second pint, that he really didn’t like what he was doing, there was too much work. It was getting much bigger than he expected when he first started with Ken. And it would get bigger, that’s clearly what Ken had in mind, but it wasn’t what he wanted. He just wanted enough extra money to go on two, or even three, holidays a year. At the rate they were expanding he’d have enough to have a holiday every month.

  He had a vivid dream that night. He was in a small boat and going rapidly down the centre of a river towards a big, thundering, waterfall. He pulled on his oars, faster and faster, trying to get to the bank but the boat kept moving towards the drop. He woke suddenly, just as the bow of the boat dipped downwards at the sharp edge, frightened and trembling. He lay there and knew he didn’t need anyone to interpret that dream. He knew what it was telling him. It was a long time before he got back to sleep.

  Thursday he drove around and through Taunton, then via Yeovil and Dorchester back to his home, collecting twelve more shops along the way. He was very tempted to visit Regina at lunch time, then Sam at six but resisted the idea. Neither would want to see him driving a van and he didn’t know if they would be home at those hours anyway. He arrived home at eight thirty, had a ham and lettuce sandwich for supper and tumbled into bed.

  Bob parked the van at the side of the workshop Friday morning. He entered by the side door and chatted to Craig and Luke, who were cutting houses then went to the office. Lori was there and he told her that he had forty four more shops and gave her the receipts. In return, she told him that there were thirty-two requests for more toys and that they had come from all over their territory.

  “I can’t manage all this Lori. We’ll have to hire someone else to help deliver, a full-time person, I think. I’ll talk to Ken about it. In the mean time can you make two lists separating the calls from the east from those from the west. I’ll go east next week and the other driver can go west.”

  “Don’t leave on Monday Bob, that’s when most retailers call me with their requests. They usually sell them over the weekend or they check their inventory then and find out that they’re getting low. At least, that’s the way we handled it in the dress shop.”

  “Well that suits me. I’d be glad to take a longer break from driving. I don’t really want to do it all the time.”

  “Why not hire two drivers then Bob?”

  “Well we could, if we could find them.” Ken joined them at that time and sat down behind his desk. “What do you think Ken?” asked Bob.

  “What? I was thinking and didn’t hear what you were talking about.”

  “With the number of calls coming in it might be time to hire two drivers. Did you know there are three hundred and sixteen retailers selling for us now?”

  “316? I knew it must be close to three hundred but I didn’t think it was more. Well, that’s great. You don’t have to worry about getting drivers, I think I already have some. Five people called yesterday. Two were painting someone’s house when Lori called earlier and the others had only just got the message. I knew that you couldn’t deliver to everyone we had now so I asked everyone if they would be interested in delivering as well as working in the shop. Two said they would. So you can relax Bob. I also rented another small van from Charles. It’ll be ready for us after four today. Can we collect it after we’ve finished?”

  “Oh that’s very good. Yes of course.”

  “You didn’t tell me about finding more people Ken,” said Lori.

  “Sorry. You were busy in the shop all afternoon and I forgot.’

  “Okay. I’ll organise the deliveries differently then. Do you still want to deliver Bob?”

  “Yes I think so. We’ll see how it goes.”

  “We had a problem yesterday Bob. Jose cut his hand on one of the saws. It wasn’t very deep but I took him to the hospital and they put in a stitch.”

  “Is he okay now?”

  “Yes. He came in this morning. I told him to take it easy. Maybe you can go and help him Lori.”

  “Okay.”

  “Do you know what we earned in May, Ken?”

  “It hasn’t increased from last week, nearly £8,900. I assume that’ll be all we’ll get for May. I deposited the cheques yesterday while Jose was waiting to be treated.”

  “So everybody has been paid?”

  “I think so. Lori’s spreadsheet names everybody and lists what they’ve sold, what they’ve paid us and how much stock they have.”

  “I’m glad she’s looking after the lists,” Ken. “I couldn’t do all that and deliver too. You know, if our income increases each month I might not need a mortgage. What do you think?”

  “I think you’d better. If things continue like this I’m going to add a second bench and hire more people.”

  ‘Oh dear,’ thought Bob. ‘He’s already thinking about expanding. I don’t know if I can handle it, it’s too much and too quick. I suppose I’ll have to learn to live with it. It might be easier when we have other people to deliver.’

  “I’m a bit scared about how quickly we’re growing Ken. Can’t you slow down a little?”

  “It’s probably best not to do that right now Bob. People are buying our toys right now and it’s best to get our name known
before other manufacturers start making wooden toys as well.”

  “I suppose you’re right. I just worry, that’s all.”

  “Don’t Bob. Remember, ‘don’t worry, we’ll be all right.’ That’s what we said, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, I guess we did. Okay. Tell me about your new production method. How long does it take to find out if it works?”

  “There are bound to be problems to begin with but we’ll know how good it is in a couple of weeks.”

  “All right, I’ll get the mortgage. I’ll drive to the bank and find out if it’s been approved. Have you deposited your amount?”

  “Yes. The cheque arrived Wednesday and I put it in yesterday.”

  “So once my money’s in, plus the May income and the money left over from paying May’s expenses we should have over thirty three thousand. Less, of course, this month’s salary cheques.”

  “After the rest of the June salaries are paid it’ll be about thirty two. We’ll need most of that when we have ten or more working for us.”

  “I guess you’re right. I still can’t help thinking we’re expanding too fast. It will make me very uncomfortable when it comes to mind.”

  “I’ll tell you what Bob, I’ll not start a second bench for at least another month. By that time we should be able to start taking money out to repay ourselves. How about that?”

  “Well I’ll be glad when we’re taking it out instead of putting it in. Okay. That’s a deal. No more expansion until August or later,” and he held out his hand for Ken to shake. “I’m off to Big End then. See you after lunch.”

  “Yes. ‘Bye Bob.”

  Mrs. Pringle was busy when Bob arrived so he bought a bank draft from the teller for £1,000. He’d give it to Maria to cover the August holiday balance when he saw her. Then he sat in the chair outside Mrs. Pringle’s office. ‘What would Betty think about what I’m doing now,’ he wondered. They had rented before moving into Bob’s parent’s house and had never had a mortgage. So much had changed since she had died. His head nodded a little and he almost fell asleep when, “Do come in, Mr. Barns,” alerted him.

  “It’s been approved and everything’s ready. Here’s the agreement. Look, it says you have a mortgage for seventeen thousand five hundred pounds; you pay ten and a half percent interest, interest-only is payable monthly and the principal is repayable anytime. All you have to do is sign in these places,” and she pointed to the three crosses marked on two sets of papers. “One copy is for you, the other is for us. Once you’ve signed them the money’s yours.”

  Bob signed the forms then Mrs. Pringle asked him if he wanted the money paid into his account, “or do you need a bank draft?”

  “A draft, please. Our business account is at another bank.”

  “I thought so. If you would like to transfer that account to Lloyds I could reduce the interest rate by one percent Mr. Barns. Would you like to do that?”

  “I don’t think so. Not just now. Maybe in the future. Thanks for suggesting it.”

  “All right. Just wait here and I’ll get the draft.”

  Bob deposited it in their business account and carefully checked the balance when given the receipt. They now had £34,161.44 in the account. When he later showed the slip to Ken he just smiled.

  Bob spent the rest of the day boxing toys then he reloaded his van and checked the smaller one to see if it was full. Afterwards he went to the office and asked Lori how many pasteboards they had. When she told him he said that she should order another ten thousand.

  “I’ve all ready done that. Ken told me to do it yesterday. Don’t worry Bob. Everything’s under control.” It saddened Bob a little when he realised what she implied; it made him feel he wasn’t needed anymore. But then he cheered up. He didn’t really want to worry about the inventory, or keeping the list of retailers up-to-date or looking after all the little things. Worrying about money was quite enough.

  After everyone had left Ken drove Bob to Charles’ garage and they rented another Ford, the same model as the first one. Charles gave them a ten percent reduction in price without either of them asking for it. Ken asked Charles how much the van would cost if they were to buy one but Bob rapidly interjected, “No, we’re not ready to do that.” Charles didn’t say anything.

 

  Maria

  Jane called Bob at six, just as he was cooking his supper.

  “Hello Bob. More good news, in fact, lots of it. First, the committee said you can set up your equipment any time you like, just don’t do anything that will make it difficult for us to move our stuff out. Second, you can cut holes for the ducts too. And, third, you don’t have to pay any rent until the beginning of next month. Isn’t that great? I think they are rather glad that you are hiring people from Small End, the ones who have called the secretary, and don’t want to discourage you in any way. I’ll tell you why at supper tomorrow night after I’ve checked a few things. You’ll be at the Crown?”

  “You bet. That’s very good news Jane. Ken will want to start on Monday I’m sure. Can we have keys for the place?”

  “I have some spare keys and I’ll give you a couple. Will tomorrow night be soon enough?”

  “Oh yes.”

  He phoned Ken and told him what Jane said.

  “That’s wonderful. Then I’ll phone Leon and order the wood to make the bench. They’re open ‘til nine on Fridays aren’t they?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll phone Jack and see if he can help and I’ll start on Monday.”

  At eight o’clock the phone rang again. It was Maria.

  “Hello Bob. Is this a good time to talk?”

  “It certainly is. How are you Maria?”

  “I’m fine. I’m with the group in Winchester now. We’ve just finished supper and I’m free. I wondered if we could have lunch together Sunday. I’ll be busy all day tomorrow but they have nothing planned for Sunday. I’ll have to be with them over breakfast and for a while afterwards in case they want some help from me but I’m sure I’ll be free by eleven. So can you be here then?”

  “Yes. Where are you?”

  “In the King Arthur. Meet me in the lobby but I’d like to have lunch somewhere else. In a village would be nice. Can we do that?”

  “Of course. When do you have to be back?”

  “By three.”

  “All right. It’ll be nice to see you again Maria.”

  “And for me to see you Bob. ‘Bye for now.”

  “‘Bye Maria.”

  After putting his clothes in the washing machine and tiding the house Bob headed to the garden. He did a little hoeing, stripped the dying pea vines from the stakes and put them on his compost heap. He tugged the three-year-old wooden stakes from the ground and leaned them against the back of his lean-to. The rain would wash them and they would be good for another couple of years he thought. Then he dug the ground where they had been, raked it, made a small trench with the end of his hoe, sowed a row of broccoli seed and raked the earth to fill in the trench. Now if the weather co-operated the broccoli would be ready to eat by the end of September.

  After lunch he walked to the new Centre and looked through several windows. All he could see was the interior of some of the rooms and along two of the corridors. It wouldn’t be long before the place was finished. He continued walking, going beside the river, thinking about where he should go next week. The shops were getting further and further away from Small End. He could go to London and spend three or four weeks skirting the city and visiting as many as he could but he hated the thought of driving in and out of traffic all day. Maybe they could find a distributor to cater to the London shops. He could go west to Cornwall or east to Canterbury and the coast. But Wales was closer and it should be full of tourists at this time of the year. So he decided to head north to Cheltenham then down the west side of the Bristol Channel towards Cardiff. As he thought about the distances he had been driving he realised that they couldn’t ask their drivers to cover all that territory in one day;
they’d have to stay in motels like he was doing and that would be very expensive. There must be a better way to do things, perhaps Ken knew of one.

  He did his local shopping as he returned through the village and had a bath before heading to the Crown. He was early and half-way through his first pint when Joe and Jane joined him.

  “Rose and Jack aren’t coming tonight. They’re off to Big End to see a movie,” said Jane. “Let’s order supper then I have some news for you Bob.”

  They checked the menu then, as Joe was placing the order at the bar, Jane told him that someone from the BBC had called the committee secretary and said that they were going to feature Small End in a documentary and talk about how they were handling everything as they grew into a town.

  “They’re going to film the village and all the new sub-divisions. And they’ll also cover the opening of the new Community Centre.”

  “Have they said when they’ll start?”

  “Two of the team will be here for a few days next week and the film crew will come during the second week of July.”

  “Will everything be moved into the new Centre by then?”

  “Oh yes. Long before then. We’ll start painting the walls Wednesday morning. We have about a dozen volunteers. Can you help?”

  “I won’t be here Jane. I’ll be back on Thursday and could help Friday or Friday evening.”

  “Well I think we’ll be nearly finished by then. Okay, I’ll call if we need you.”

  Bob didn’t have much news for them. “I’ve found out that I don’t like driving all the week so we’ve hired two men to do some of it. You’ll see them in the yard. They’ll drive the small vans.”

  “I’ve seen the vans,” said Joe.

  “Are they taking up too much room?”

  “No. But won’t most of them be parked at the old Centre soon?”

  “They will, although we’ll still be using the old shop. Ken’ll have some of the work done there but I don’t know what yet.”

  “He told me he might use it to make fire engines.”

  “Oh. He hasn’t said anything to me about that. I get a bit out-of-touch being away most of the week.”

  “You must be doing quite well if you’re hiring more people and two drivers,” said Joe.

  “I hope we soon will be. I had to take a mortgage to cover the next two months expenses. It makes me uncomfortable but I think it will be worth it.”

  “I’m sure it will,” said Jane.

  “I’m keeping my fingers and toes crossed about it. Say, do you know who I’m having lunch with tomorrow?”

  “No,” said Joe.

  “Maria,” said Jane.

  “Yes. That’s right! How did you guess?”

  “You told us she was guiding a tour and that you would see her when she had finished. That’s next weekend, isn’t it? So I guessed that she would be somewhere along the south coast with her group about now.”

  “She’s in Winchester.”

  “Well that’ll be nice.”

  “If the rain holds off,” added Joe. “They say it’s going to rain tomorrow.”

  “Ah. Well rain won’t make much difference,” Bob said and smiled.

  He donned his working clothes and washed his car before breakfast Sunday morning. This was the first time he had ever washed a car and he wanted Maria to be impressed. He knew that it would only take an hour to get to Winchester but decided to leave at nine thirty, park near the hotel and walk along High Street before meeting her. He remembered how nice it was when he and Betty had taken the kids to see the cathedral. He must go there again when he had more time. He checked how he looked before leaving, then smiled at himself. Just like being a teenager, he thought. As he drew near Southampton he turned on the radio and discovered they were playing tunes from Les Mis. He had heard some of them before and liked them so he knew he would enjoy the show.

  He parked and had time to walk to the Lichen, watch the water flowing and listen to the ducks quacking before returning to the hotel. Maria was sitting in the lobby, waiting for him.

  “Hello Bob,” she said, rising and giving him a kiss on his cheek.

  “Hello Maria,” he replied. “Sorry. Am I late?”

  “Not at all. I’ve just sat down. Shall we go?”

  “Yes.” Maria took his arm as they headed out the door, around the corner and into the car park. He liked her holding him and almost wished he had parked further away.

  “Here we are,” and he put his key into the lock and opened it for her.

  “You have a car now Bob? I thought we would be driving in the van.”

  “Aunt Sally gave this to me a month ago. I didn’t tell you because I wanted it to be a surprise. We can use it to explore the Lake District after the August tour. You’ve booked a few days holiday?”

  “Yes. Four, from Sunday to Thursday. My assistant will look after the group on their way home. The agency wants me back to cover the following weekend so I have to return Thursday afternoon. But that’s a long way ahead, let’s not talk about that. Where are we going for lunch?”

  “I thought we might go to Longlight Manor. It’s open on Sundays. We could have our lunch and take a tour of the house if you like. It’s a beautiful mansion on the river.”

  “That sounds nice.”

  Unfortunately the manor was closed that weekend because they were filming part of a movie there so they checked the map then drove to the Granite Golf Club, sure that that would be open and hoping the food would be enjoyable. It was open and the food was good but Bob enjoyed their conversation more than the food. They ate and talked on the terrace. He kept an eye on the clouds, remembering what Joe had said about rain. Maria asked him what he’d been doing and he told her that they now had 360 retailers, that they would be hiring more employees and that he had taken a mortgage to cover the expenses they would be incurring.

  “Is it safe to do that?” asked Maria.

  “I hope so. I’ll know better in August and can tell you then. Okay, that’s enough about me. Tell me what you’ve been doing.”

  “Working in the office mostly but I took a group to Italy last month.”

  “You speak Italian as well?”

  “A little.”

  “It must be nice to be able to speak so many languages; Portuguese, Spanish, German, English, French and Italian. I only know English.”

  “It’s easier to learn languages when you live on the continent and are exposed to them when you’re young.”

  “What will you be doing between now and the July and August trips?”

  “Office work I expect.”

  “What do you like doing most?”

  “Oh, guiding tours. If there are not too many problems that is. I don’t mind a few problems, they add spice, but I don’t like it when someone becomes ill or there’s a robbery.”

  “Have you had that?”

  “Yes. Three robberies, two in Italy, one in Spain. And a man had a heart attack on a tour I guided last October.”

  “What did you do when that happened?”

  “I was lucky. It occurred in a hotel and the manager called the ambulance and the police. He had the numbers on a sheet tacked to a notice board in his office because it had happened before.”

  “It’s a fascinating life you lead Maria. It’s a lot more fun than mine.”

  “Well working in the office isn’t much fun. You wouldn’t want to do that week-after-week.”

  “No, I suppose not.”

  “I’d like to have my own agency. There’s a lot of money to be made if an agency has a good reputation. But, if I can’t have that, I’d just like to run tours.”

  “It would take a lot of work to start an agency.”

  “Yes it would. I think I’m too old to do that now but it used to be a dream of mine.”

  “But you’re clearly not too old to run tours.

  “No. I couldn’t run more than one or two a month of course. It depends on how long the tour is, how much research I’d have to do
before each one, if the agency books the rooms or if I have to do it; things like that. However, running one or two tours a month wouldn’t pay enough to live on. Lot’s of people would like to just run tours so the agency doesn’t pay them much. Maybe I’ll do it when I retire. My agency knows me and knows what I can do. I’d probably be on the top of their list.”

  “I planned to sit in my workshop and make toys and carve birds when I retired but look what’s happened to me!”

  “Life’s strange, isn’t it Bob. When I was a teenager I thought I’d be happily married and have children and grandchildren by the time I was fifty but that didn’t happen.”

  “Do you wish you’d stayed with your husband?”

  “No way, but I wonder what’s happened to him sometimes. If he didn’t join, what do the American’s call it, the ‘AA,’ then he’s probably dead by now. Ah, enough about that. Let’s go to the river and walk beside it. We’ve only got half an hour before you’ll have to take me back to the hotel. I have to review what I’m to tell them about tomorrow’s activities and the group meets at four.”

  “All right.”

  They were in luck, it didn’t rain, although the sky turned dark as they drove back to Winchester. She leaned over and kissed his cheek after she undid her seat belt and told him not to get out of the car. As he drove home he thought how nice it would be to talk to her every day. But it wouldn’t be long before he would see her again, just six days, and he hummed Drink with Me, one of the Les Mis songs that had played on the car’s radio that morning.

  After a seven-o’clock breakfast Monday morning Bob filled his thermos with tea, picked up one of the newsletters Julie had sent him and strolled down the hill to the workshop thinking he should write to Julie and ask her if she had any extra copies. The ones he had were getting rather grubby.

  No one had arrived at the shop so he climbed in the van and began driving to Gloucester. The clouds had cleared and it was a warm, sunny morning.

  Twelve shops later he quit for the day and found a small Bed and Breakfast near Cheltenham. They didn’t serve dinners and there were no restaurants nearby so he had to drive four miles to eat. ‘Next time I’ll look for a restaurant before looking for a place to sleep,’ he told himself. He used the restaurant’s phone to call Ken although it was only eight o’clock. Ken answered and began to tell him what he had been doing that day.

  “We’ve built the bench Bob. It’s four feet wide and eighty feet long. That means the only way you can get from the entrance doors to the stage is around the ends of the bench or through the corridors. It’s a pity but that’s the way it has to be. We’ll cut a hole in the back wall tomorrow, the one for the exhaust ducts. It’ll be like a window, with a wooden frame. We can replace it with a window or with bricks when we leave. I’ll make it big enough to hold six ducts.”

  “Will we need that many?”

  “Not until we have three benches. Not for a few months Bob. Don’t worry! Oh, Jack said that the field manager and the assistant director from the BBC film crew are staying at Bonnie’s. I guess they’ll be talking to the committee and looking over the village during the next day or two.”

  “Did the new drivers show up?”

  “Yes. They were waiting for me when I arrived at eight thirty. One man was a corporal in the army who’s wife didn’t want to move to different countries every few years so he quit. His name’s Gerry Holmes. The other man was a landscaper who has hurt his back. He wants to stay until it’s good enough to go back. His name’s Bert Long. Lori gave them a list of places to visit, maps and receipt books and showed them how they should be used. They returned this afternoon and she said the receipts were fine. They refilled the vans then helped in the shop until we closed at five.”

  “Well that’s one less worry. What’ll they do tomorrow?”

  “Oh there are more places to visit. We’ve had lots of calls today. They seem to call on Monday’s more often than on any other day.”

  “Yes, Lori told me that. It might be best to have them work in the shop on Mondays and not start delivering until Tuesdays each week. She told me that too.”

  “Okay, we’ll do that. Where are you now?”

  “I’m outside Cheltenham. I’m going to drive down the Bristol Channel into Wales towards Cardiff tomorrow. I’ve another twelve retailers now.”

  “That’s good. We’re going to need them. Since they’re further away do you think you should leave extra sets with them? Then you wouldn’t have to return so often.”

  “I’d thought about that, Ken and asked them if they’d take ten of each but they don’t know if the toys will sell so they didn’t want to take more than five. I’ll leave more next time, if they agree.”

  “Good. Well, safe journey Bob.”

  “Thanks. Cheers Ken.”

  Bob stayed at a small hotel the other side of Cardiff Tuesday night. He told Ken he had fourteen more shops and asked how his day had gone.

  “We’ve cut the hole for the ducts,’ Ken replied. “It took longer than we expected but it’s all framed now and covered with a sheet of thick plywood. Pat installed the fluorescent lights. He used the outlets in the ceilings, the ones the stage lighting used, so all the switches are behind the stage. It’s a bit inconvenient but saves us a lot of money. And he dropped wires from the ceiling to feed the electrical sockets along the bench too. Jack helped him. Oh, the BBC people visited the workshop and talked to Craig and Lori. Then Craig brought them here to see what we were doing. I told them the story and they wanted to see your workshop so I took them there. I hope you don’t mind. I let them into the shop and they said they wanted to talk to you and film what we’re doing. We’re going to be film stars Bob!”

  “Oh! When are they going to do all this? I won’t be home until Thursday evening.”

  “Not this week, the cameramen and narrators aren’t here. They’ll be filming around the time the new Centre opens. It’ll all be part of the story about how Small End is changing. ‘Adapting,’ the assistant director said.”

  “‘Adapting’, ah, yes. That’s what we’re doing, adapting. And I suppose many others in the village are adapting too. All right. Then I’ll call tomorrow Ken. ‘Bye.”

  “’Bye Bob.”

  Wednesday night Bob’s call was at eight thirty, for he wanted to go to bed early. “I’m in Swansea Ken, and I’m driving home tomorrow as soon as I’ve visited a few more shops around here. We have another ten to add to the list. What’s the news at your end?”

  “The exhaust fans arrived this morning. Jack and I installed them and the ductwork. We hung the ducts from supports attached to the structures in the ceiling, the ones that held the lighting. They’re very strong. The exhaust fan for the sanders is rather noisy because I ordered a big one but you don’t hear it when you are at the front of the Centre or inside, just when you’re at the back.”

  “I’m looking forward to seeing it all. Will you be finished this week?”

  “No. The routers, sanders, saws and heaters won’t be here until next week.”

  “I suppose Craig is looking after the shop while you’re at the Centre?”

  “Yes. He’s in charge and Lori’s taking all the calls and arranging the deliveries with Gerry and Bert. They went out today but will work in the shop for the rest of the week. Oh, and it’s been decided where we go for our celebration lunch. It’s this Friday, remember? We’re going to a micro-brew pub in Big End.”

  “I’d forgotten about the lunch. Will Gerry and Bert be going?”

  “We talked about that at lunch today, while they were on the road, and everyone agreed that they should. They are becoming part of the gang even though they’re not in the shop all the time.”

  “They’ll be pleased to have an afternoon off the first week of their job! And being paid for it too, I imagine.”

  “Yes. I couldn’t do otherwise. But they’re good men and they’ll do their best for us I’m sure.”

  “Good. Well I won’t phone tomorrow. I’ll
be home. Does Lori have any places for me to visit on my way back?”

  “Yes. There’s seven of them. All around Swindon. She guessed you’d be returning that way. Are you?”

  “Yes, it’s the shortest way.”

  “All right,” and he read out the names and Bob put a cross beside each one on his list.

  “Then I’ll see you Friday Ken.”

  “Good. There’s lots to see and talk about. Drive carefully.”

  “I will.”

  Bob had expected to visit a dozen shops before returning home but stopped at noon, bought a sandwich and filled his thermos with tea at a deli. He had to start driving back now for he had to get to the Swindon shops before six or they’d be closed. So he had only seven new shops to add to his list.

  He arrived at Swindon at four. As expected there was a traffic jam at Bristol and that took time to get through but there was enough time to drop boxes at Lori’s seven shops. He arrived home at eight thirty, tired but happy. He was looking forward to an enjoyable weekend, first with the pub lunch, then with Maria. He began humming again.

  Friday morning he drove the Vauxhall to the workshop, arriving just after nine. Everyone was busy. Craig was teaching the two new men how to operate the router jig. Bob walked over to meet them after saying ‘Hello’ to Lori, Luke and Jose.

  “Bob, this is Gerry and Bert. And this is Mr. Bob Barns. He’s the company’s founder. He’s been on the road, finding more shops to sell our toys.”

  “Hello Gerry. Hello Bert. I’m glad you’ve joined us and extra glad that you are doing some of the deliveries. How do you like the work?”

  “I’m used to driving, Mr. Barns,” said Gerry. “I did a lot of it in the army when I first joined up. But I like working in the shop too. Everyone’s so friendly.”

  “Yes, that’s right, Mr. Barns. Everyone is friendly. However, I’m a bit worried about working with wood in the shop because I’m afraid I might twist my back. But driving’s no problem, I can manage that.”

  “You might best do painting or boxing then Bert. What do you think Craig?”

  “I didn’t know you had a bad back Bert. Yes, you can paint or box, there’s plenty of that to keep you busy.”

  “And I’d rather you both called me Bob. We’re very informal here. You know about our monthly Friday celebrations?”

  “Having lunch and the afternoon off? Yes we certainly do. I don’t know of any place that does something like that.”

  “Well we do it to celebrate making two and a half thousand sets in a month. It’s a reward. Which makes me think we’ll have to increase the target once the new shop starts working or we’ll be having a holiday every week!”

  “Do you think we’ll be making that many?” asked Craig.

  “Ken thinks we will and I expect he’s right.”

  He then walked over to Lori who was counting the boxed sets.

  “Hello Lori. I’ve the receipts from the new shops for you. Another forty three.”

  “Thanks Bob.”

  “Do you know how many we’ve made this month?”

  “Two thousand nine hundred and six.”

  “Then we didn’t make three thousand.”

  “We will, once the trains are dried and boxed. It’ll be three thousand and six then. That’ll be done and they’ll be packed by lunch time.”

  “Well it’s remarkable, what everybody’s doing. How will you manage to look after things when we open the shop at the Centre?”

  “I’ll check there every afternoon or have someone do it for me. You know that we’ll be keeping the office here?”

  “Yes.”

  “So I’ll spend most of my time here, near the phone. Oh, Ken said the company would buy my computer. I said he needn’t, I didn’t want it because I have a new one, but he insisted. He asked what it was worth and gave me a hundred and fifty pounds for it. So you’ll see that on the expense sheet for this month.”

  “Well, I’m glad he did that. I suppose we should buy a new one sometime.”

  “Not yet. The one you’ve got does everything we need to do. It’s not so good if you want to play games but that’s not what we want to do.”

  “One day you’re going to teach me how to use it, remember?”

  “I do. Just tell me when. I’m off to the centre now to see what Ken and Jack are doing. Do you want to come with me?”

  Bob did, so they walked over together.

  “So this is the new bench Ken. It sure is a long one. I know you said eighty feet but it’s gigantic. How will you use all that? And where’s Jack? I thought he was helping you.”

  “I didn’t need him any more this week. He’ll be back when the new equipment arrives. Here, walk with me and I’ll explain what happens,” and he took Bob to the left end of the bench.

  “The wood will be stored in the room by the back door, right? Okay. Then what we need is carried here and placed on the end of the bench. Now,” and he walked with Bob a few feet along the bench, “the ‘R’ I’ve chalked here,” and he pointed to it, “is where the router jig will be. The long block is pushed through the jig and left on the bench until it is picked up by the next operator who cuts it into pieces by the band saw. That’ll be here, where the ‘B’ is. The pieces will be put in a tray on the other side until they’re picked up and sanded. The sanders are next on the bench, see the two ‘S’s?”

  “Yes. Why do you have two?”

  “Sanding takes more time than the other operations so we have to have two or the line will slow down. I’d like to have a drum sander instead of the mop sanders but I’m not sure how well it’d handle all the edges some of the parts have. I’ll make a small one in my garage sometime and see if it works okay. If it does I’ll make or buy one for the line. If we had one it’d release two people because all you have to do is dump the wooden pieces in the barrel and let them rotate for a while. Now, you see the end of the duct that’s hanging over the ‘S’s? Jack and I’ll make a big wire frame, hang it from the end of the duct and cover it with heavy plastic sheeting. The whole thing will cover the sanding mops and all the sanding will be done inside the cover. Air and sawdust will be exhausted through the duct. We’ll have the same kind of exhaust system over the band saw and the routers.”

  “That’s why you ordered the large exhaust; it has to suck dust from all these places.”

  “Yes that’s right. Okay. After the blocks have been sanded they’ll be pushed onto the pin hangers and then dipped into the first paint tray, here, where there’s a ‘P’. These hangers will be slightly different from the ones we use now, they’ll have two rollers glued to the top, the kind that are used to hold curtains. You know, the ones that run along an ‘I’ beam. Well, there’ll be an ‘I’ beam or rail running above the bench from here on. The hangers will be slid onto it and pushed into a plastic tunnel. The tunnel has hot air flowing through it and that dries the paint.”

  “What makes them move along the rail? And where’s the hot air coming from?”

  “When you slide one hanger onto the beam it pushes all those ahead of it further down the tunnel. That’s one of the reasons why the tunnel is made of plastic—you can see if there are any hangers in the tunnel and just where they are. The heat comes from a fan heater, that’ll be fastened under the bench. Now, look, there’s ten feet between the first ‘P’ cross and the next ‘P’. With the right heat and right production rate the first paint coat will be dry by the time it reaches the end of the first tunnel and rail. The second ‘P’ is where the second coat of paint will be given, brushed on in this case, the roof of the house, for instance. Then the hanger will be slid onto the second rail and it goes to the last ‘P’ where it will be given the last coat, the lines. They’ll be stamped on. It’s then put on the last rail and travels for another ten feet, although a much shorter length might be all we need there. At the end the pieces are pulled off the hanger pins and put in the plastic boxes ready to be glued or screwed together, sorted into sets and packed. All that happens alon
g the last part of the bench.”

  “I see. If the hangers drop off the end of each rail won’t they get damaged?”

  “I don’t think so. There’ll be a cloth ramp at the end and the hangers will slide down into a tray.”

  “Smart. Okay, what stops the heat from just going out the ends of the tunnels and not drying the paint?”

  “It’s fed into the centres of the tunnels and it does exit by the ends but it dries the paint before it leaves. One problem I can foresee, the hot air might heat the workshop too much on a warm day. We’ll have to deal with that if it happens. But the air doesn’t have to be very hot and some of it will be sucked into the exhaust ducts as well. It’s all a bit of an experiment right now but I can’t see any reason why it shouldn’t work. It’ll take time to solve all the problems but they’re all little ones I think.”

  “It’s fascinating Ken. How many do you expect to make in a day?”

  “Well, if there’s someone on each station and two on the sanders, nine people altogether, I think we’ll get four or five times our normal rate of production.”

  “You mean, instead of making seven or eight hundred a week we’ll make that many in a day?”

  “Once all the bugs are worked out, yes, I think we will.”

  “My God! Who’s going to sell all of them? We don’t have that many shops!”

  “We might have. Here, sit on this chair and let’s talk about it.”

  “You’ve bought these chairs Ken?”

  “Yes some of the work can be done sitting down. And, with position-rotation, it’ll make the line-work easier for everybody.”

  They sat down, facing each other, and Ken pulled out a pencil and a piece of paper from his pocket. “I’ve talked to some of my old friends about distribution and costs. Distributors take twenty to thirty percent. That would leave us with only forty or thirty percent of the selling price. If the shops sell a toy, let’s say for £20, then we’d only get £8 or £6, depending on what they charge.” He wrote the figures on his scrap of paper. “It’d actually be a bit more if they were selling village or farm sets, but £8 or £6 will do to calculate what kind of profit we could make. Let’s say we make three-and-a-half thousand sets a week. Again it would be more, I think, once all the problems are solved. Then we’d make £28,000 or £21,000 a week. Of course we have to pay the wages, rent, wood, paint, and so on out of that. Wages would be the biggest cost. For fourteen people at, say, £175 a week that would be £2,450. Wood, paint, rent, electricity and miscellaneous expenses could come to about £900 a week. We’d not need any vans if we had a distributor. No, we’d better keep one to take things from one shop to the other or when we’re shopping for stuff. So let’s say the miscellaneous expenses came to £1,000 a week. So, we’d clear approximately £24,500 or £17,500. Each week! Now, these are very rough calculations but they won’t be far wrong. Have I made any mistakes in my calculations?”

  “I’d have to use a pencil, calculator, last month’s expenses, all the current routine expenses and so on to be sure but it sounds right. Unbelievable, isn’t it.”

  “Trouble is, I’m counting on selling everything we make. Thirty five hundred sets each week. We now have how many shops selling for us?”

  “Three hundred and fifty eight. That’d mean each shop would have to sell about ten toys a week. They don’t do that Ken. All they sell, on average, is three or four. Of course, the bigger shops in large towns would sell more but the smaller ones sell less.”

  “Yes. So we do need a bigger territory, at least three times bigger. Maybe four or more times bigger, if the production-line method works as planned.”

  “And twice that if we had a second bench. It’s overwhelming!”

  “Distribution of all this would be impossible if we tried to do it all ourselves. But with the right distributor we’d be in clover. They’d take the sets, store them and distribute to the retailers.”

  “And just send us the money.”

  “Yes. They’d just send us the money, when they’re sold, of course. If the toys don’t sell they’ll send them back to us. Now that raises another problem. Our toys are selling now because of the Green Movement or whatever but the wish to buy wooden toys won’t last forever. It’ll fade and something else will pop up. We’re supplying a demanding market now but it won’t always be that way. Either we make different articles to sell or we’ll eventually go out of business. You see that?”

  “Yes of course. How long do you think the demand will continue Ken?”

  “No idea. Maybe for a year or maybe for five years. It’s one problem I don’t know how to solve. Do you?”

  “We could make different things. All I’ve been thinking about in the past is making different kinds of wooden toys but if the market for toys disappears we’d have to make something else but I don’t know what.”

  “Well we don’t have to decide just yet. We have a few months to think about it. Just keep the problem in mind. We’ll come up with something I’m sure.”

  “Yes. Then we’d better call a few distributors and see what they say. We’d want ones that distribute toys or gifts, I guess. They would be serving the kinds of shops I’ve been going to.”

  “Can you find out how your retailers get their supplies, what distributors they use?” Ken asked.

  “Yes, I’ll phone some on Monday. Hey, we’d better be going back. Everyone will be wondering where we are. They’ll have finished their tea break.”

  Everyone stopped work at twelve. Craig checked that the floor had been cleaned, the wood carefully stacked, tools in their proper places and all the paint trays cleaned, taking Bert and Gerry with him to help. They then gave Bob their overalls and climbed into the cars.

  “We’re going to need a bus next time,” said Lori.

  “Hopefully one of the new people has a car,” replied Ken.

  “I have one,” said Bert. “I can drive if needed. And Gerry has a motor bike. He’ll be using it next week and will give me a lift. He could give someone a lift next time and I’d have room for three more in my car.”

  “Great,” exclaimed Ken.

  The pub was very busy but Luke had made a reservation for eight and a table on the patio was waiting for them. Ken sat at one end and Bob the other. All ordered beers except Lori who had a gin and orange. They gossiped about the pubs in Big End, the young ones voting for the noisiest ones, Bert and Gerry preferring the quiet ones. Curries, fish and chips, and sausage and mash were ordered and eaten and more beer drunk. It became a rather noisy group with much laughter and leg pulling about relationships. Apparently Craig and Lori were becoming an item, Luke’s girl friend didn’t want him to do any more volunteer work and Jose’s girl, Rosemary, had not written to him for five weeks. The table quietened when he said that and Luke squeezed his arm. Everyone except Ken and Bob had one last drink then Ken and Bob drove them home.

  They returned to the shop afterwards and went into the office to discuss next week’s activities.

  “I’ll not seek more shops Ken. It will be a waste of time if we hire the right kind of distributor. They’ll already have a market for us.”

  “What about the ones who now have our toys but aren’t on their list?”

  “I don’t know. We might have to deliver to them ourselves or drop them. I’d hate to do that. Or perhaps the distributor will add them to their list. There are too many unknowns to work on that problem now. So next week I’ll help you set up the equipment or work in the shop.”

  “All right. What are you doing this weekend?”

  “Oh didn’t I tell you? I’m off to London with Maria. We’re going to a show, Les Mis.”

  “A bit of a holiday, eh? Well, enjoy yourself. You know, you don’t have to come back on Monday. You could take one or two more days off.”

  “Ah, Maria has to return to Portugal on Sunday.”

  “That’s too bad. Well. Enjoy yourself Bob.”

  “I will Ken, I will.”

  After parking the car in hi
s driveway Bob walked over to the new Centre. The doors and windows were open and people were putting the tops on cans of paint or washing brushes. Some of the walls were still wet and notices at the front door warned people to be careful. He walked in, said ‘Hello’ to several people he knew and asked them where Jane was. He eventually found her in the main hall.

  “Hello Jane. The painting’s all finished then?”

  “Hello Bob. Yes it is. It should dry over the weekend. I’d like to keep the windows and doors open for as long as I can. If I give you a key can you lock it tonight and open it tomorrow morning?”

  “Of course. But I won’t be here to keep an eye on it after that. I’m going to London with Maria.”

  “Oh yes, of course. I hope you have a nice time. The weather should be nice. You can walk around Hyde Park and feed the ducks.”

  “I suppose we could. About the windows, should I open them Saturday morning before I go?”

  “Yes. I’ll check it during the day and lock it overnight. Leave the key at the side of the stage, here, this corner will do. I’m sure the place will be all right during the day.”

  “All right.”

  Jane took him around the building, explaining what each room might be used for.

  “We’ll have a cafeteria here Bob. It’s something we’ve always wanted. It’ll be equipped so we can serve cooked lunches and we might even have special dinners in the Centre. We can prepare the food and drinks for the shows there.”

  “It’s a big building Jane. How are you going to keep it clean?”

  “Volunteers won’t be enough Bob, so we’re going to hire a superintendent. Someone who can do many things, clean, of course, but also repair items, windows, for instance, keep the place warm in the winter, water the garden. Some of the village ladies want to plant a flower garden and it’ll need watering. Things like that.”

  “Where’s the money coming from to pay him?”

  “Money we raise. From the shows, membership dues, sales, and so on. Maybe we’ll get a grant or some donations. We’ve lots of plans. The place will be busy all the time.”

  “Will you have dances here?”

  “Of course. Dance lessons and dances, formal and informal. Do you dance?”

  “A bit. Betty and I used to, when we were courting.”

  “So did Joe and I. I’m going to persuade him to take lessons with me. Ballroom and Scottish. It’d be nice to do that. You should come. There’s bound to be several unaccompanied ladies who would like a partner.”

  “Maybe I will. Do you know what’s happening at the opening ceremony?”

  “There’s a sub-committee working on that. There’ll be a band from Big End’s high school and it’ll play some pieces, then a couple of speeches, one of them describing the kind of activities that the Centre will be offering. And there will be refreshments and tours of the rooms, although most will be empty. The ceremony won’t last long.”

  “And the BBC?”

  “I suppose they’ll be filming some of it. They’re not here because we have a new Centre, though, they’re here because the village is one of the ones that’s undergoing an expansion. I think that other villages will be included in the same documentary.”

  “Ken says they want to film our workshops.”

  “Oh, that’ll be interesting. They’re also going to film our committee, the river path and a few places in the village, the park, perhaps.”

  “Sounds like it’ll be an hour-long episode then.”

  They walked out of the Centre and Jane gave him the door key. “Have fun this weekend.”

  “I hope to Jane.”

  Bob walked back to his house and looked at the car to see if it needed another cleaning. He decided it didn’t. He put the overalls in the washing machine and had supper. After cleaning the dishes he hung the overalls on the line and put his own clothes in to wash then walked over to the Centre, closed all the windows and locked the door. He decided to hang his clothes on the line and go to bed as he walked home, even though it was only eight o’clock. He didn’t feel like reading or watching television, he’d rather think about tomorrow.

  Unable to sleep any longer Bob climbed out of bed at six Saturday morning, had a bath and donned his best flannel trousers, a grey shirt, a light-blue tie and his blazer. He hoped that’d be okay to wear in the theatre, he didn’t want to take his suit. He added a thin sweater, his pyjamas and clothes for Sunday together with his electric razor and tooth brush. Over breakfast he wondered what else he should take then remembered his slippers. He didn’t think there’d be much time to use them but took them anyway, it’d be nice to slip into them after a day wearing shoes.

  After washing the dishes he felt the overalls hanging on the line. They were not dry enough to bring in so he left them there and walked to the Centre. He opened all the windows and the doors and put the key in the corner of the stage. He touched the paint several times and found that it was already dry. ‘No need to open the windows tomorrow,’ he thought.

  At eight thirty he collected the washing, hung some of his clothes on the kitchen line and draped the rest over the kitchen and living room chairs. It would be dry when he returned. He’d take the overalls and hang them in the workshop, they were almost dry all ready. He did that, driving there and filling the car with petrol afterwards. Then, although it was not yet nine o’clock, he decided to drive to Gatwick. He knew it wouldn’t take more than a couple of hours and that Maria would not be ready until noon but he couldn’t wait any longer. He wanted the holiday to begin. He returned to the house, put his suitcase in the boot and drove off.

  He reduced his speed as soon as he left the motor way at Winchester, driving along the A272, then up to Horsham. He couldn’t stop himself from looking for gift shops and noticed several he could have called on. He had a coffee and a bagel on the far side of Horsham, lingering over it until it was eleven fifteen, then drove to Gatwick and parked the car. He took a seat close to the Meeting Point. He was twenty minutes early. He wished he had bought a bunch of flowers when a man sat on the seat opposite him carrying one but it was too late to look for a flower shop.

  “Hello Bob.”

  “Maria! Hello,” he stood up, “I didn’t see you. How are you?”

  “Ready for a rest. The group kept me very busy. Do you have your car? I’d like to have lunch somewhere, not here, I get tired of eating at Gatwick. There’s probably a pub nearby. And I’d like to get rid of my suitcase for a while too,” and she pointed to it. “All I need for the weekend is in the small bag.”

  “The car’s not far. Let me pull your big case. Oh it’s good to see you again Maria.”

  “But it’s only been a week since you saw me last!”

  “I know. It just seems longer. Come, let’s go. It’s this way,” and he led her through the doors to the car park and his car. He opened the boot and put her big bag inside. “We’ll put the small ones on the back seat.”

  “Can I have a hug now?” Maria asked.

  “Oh yes.”

  They hugged and Maria lifted her face and Bob, without thinking, kissed her.

  “I’m glad you did that,” she said, “I thought you might not want to.”

  He kissed her again. “I wanted to do that last week and before that but I thought you might not want me to.”

  “Then let’s try it again,” she said and lifted her head. Three more kisses and Maria said she’d have to sit down. “Let’s go for lunch. And I want a toilet too.”

  They found a restaurant ten minutes later after looking at, then passing, a most disreputable-looking pub. Salads and a glass of white wine for both of them was all they wanted. She told him about the last week of the trip, saying how the couple that argued so much with each other the previous week gradually got over their differences. And that the woman who cried every time they visited a church told everyone last night that her husband died only a month ago. “She thought taking a holiday might help her adjust and I think it might have. She was the only one t
hat came from her church so no one knew what had happened.”

  “I expect everyone wanted to comfort her once she’d said that.”

  “Yes they did. She probably made several new friends on that trip as well.”

  The waiter asked them if they would like tea or coffee and they both asked for tea.

  “I’m back to drinking tea,” she told Bob after he’d left. “It’ll be coffee all the time when I get home.”

  “What are we doing this weekend Maria? I mean, what have you already arranged?”

  “I’ve booked the seats for Les Mis and two rooms at a near-by hotel. That way we can walk back to it after the show. It’s better than driving back to Gatwick. We can do that tomorrow, when we have lots of time.”

  “I thought it would be better to take a train to Victoria than drive into London. I didn’t like the idea of doing that.”

  “Good idea. Yes, that’s much better. Going by train will give us a bit more time to explore a bit of the city too.

  “Jane told me that we should go to Hyde Park and feed the ducks!”

  “Did she! Well we could do that if you like.”

  “Okay. Let’s go. I’ll park the car at Gatwick and we’ll catch the train.”

  Less than two hours later they were at the hotel. Bob insisted on using his credit card when they checked in. Maria had reserved two adjacent rooms. They unpacked their bags then strolled, hand-in-hand, along Shaftsbury Avenue, past the Palace Theatre, where Les Misérables was showing and along Charring Cross road looking in the windows and at the passing crowds. They had a beer in a pub whose barkeeper asked Maria if she was from Spain. When she said Portugal he said “That’s where I’m going next month,” and smiled at her. Then they walked slowly back to a restaurant they’d noticed earlier and had supper. Fish, salmon with a lemon dressing, and asparagus for both of them and a half-bottle of white wine.

  “We’ll have a coffee, no dessert” he told the waiter.

  “We’ll be back for dessert after the show perhaps,” Maria added.

  The seats were in the auditorium, close to the centre aisle. Bob was glad he wore his blazer, shirt and tie for most of the men were similarly dressed. They held hands during the show and found the bar quickly enough to buy a drink without a long wait during the interval. After the show they walked slowly back to the hotel, discussing the performance, the actors and sang some of the songs. Neither felt like returning to the restaurant for a dessert. At the hotel they sat in the lounge where Maria had a Drambuie and Bob a scotch. They lingered, not wanting to hurry the evening, then Maria stood up and told Bob she was going to bed. He followed and they kissed ‘good-night’ outside her door.

  Twenty minutes later, just after Bob had put on his pyjamas, there was a tap on the door. It was Maria. She said nothing, just walked in, took off her dressing gown and climbed into his bed. A rather-surprised Bob shut the door, looked at her, then smiled as he climbed into the other side. “What do we do now?” he asked. “Let me show you,” she replied.

  The sunlight woke Maria first. She gently eased out of the bed, found her night-dress, went to the bathroom, returned and opened the bedroom curtains then sat on the side of the bed watching Bob as he slowly awakened.

  “Hello Bob. Did you sleep well?”

  “I don’t remember how well I slept,” he replied, “but I do remember how well I felt when I wasn’t sleeping. It was a wonderful night for me. How was it for you?”

  “Wonderful as well. And I’d like to have another one just like it.”

  “So would I. I’d like to have many like it.”

  “I don’t think that’s possible Bob. I live in Portugal and you live in England, but we can meet several times a year and more often if I can persuade the agency to make me the UK guide. I’ll talk to them about that when I return.”

  “Then come back to bed Maria. I won’t see you for another six or seven weeks after today. Come back to bed. It’s my turn to show you what else we can do.”

  “Do you know what the time is? It’s nearly nine o’clock. Let me dream about that until our next holiday.”

  “That’s too long to wait. Maybe I can take a trip to Lagos.”

  “No Bob. Let’s not hurry everything. It’ll get better if we don’t rush. Look. I’m going to dress and pack my suitcase. Why don’t you do the same and we’ll have breakfast. I’ll knock on your door when I’m ready. Okay?”

  “Okay Maria, although I’d rather stay in bed. With you, but okay.”

  He thought about the night as he showered. He had almost forgotten how pleasurable making love was. But was it love or was it just sex? It was very enjoyable whatever it was. Did he love her, he asked himself. He liked her very much. He liked talking to her, listening to her opinions and finding out what she believed. She thought much like he did so they seemed compatible. He liked the way she looked, especially when she tied her brown hair back behind her head. ‘How do I know if I love her,’ he wondered. ‘It’s not the same as with Betty. I knew I loved her as soon as we met. I knew I wanted to marry her. It’s different with Maria. I like being with her but I don’t know if I would like always being with her, being with her forever.’

  There was a knock on the door. It was Maria and he hadn’t even fully dressed.

  “Come in Maria. I’m not dressed or packed yet. Won’t be long.”

  She sat in the arm chair and watched him.

  “You don’t have to wear your blazer or a tie today Bob. That sweater would be enough.”

  “Good. Then that’s what I’ll do. Shall we go to Hyde Park?”

  “It might be too far for me to walk there and back. Can we take the tube?”

  “Of course. We’ll save our walking ‘til we get there.”

  They walked to the elevator holding hands but released them when another couple got in. They were lucky enough to be given a table next to the window but all they could see was a dying tree with torn plastic bags hanging from its branches and a broken bottle half buried in the dirt that surrounded the trunk. Orange juice, croissants and coffee suited them both. When the waiter presented the bill Bob asked if they could have some old bread, “in a bag, please. We want to feed the ducks.”

  “I can give you some left-over rolls from last night’s dinner. Would that be all right?” They were, of course.

  They returned to their rooms, collected their bags, went to the cashier and Bob signed the credit card slip. “We’d like to leave our bags here for a while. Can you arrange that please.”

  The cashier signalled a boy who gave them two coupons and took the bags. “We’ll collect them in three or four hours,” Bob said and gave the boy a tip. They walked to Tottenham Court and caught the tube to Marble Arch. There they stood for a while listening to an old man decrying the state of the world, declaring, “We’re not here for much longer. You must repent now!” What they were to do after repenting was not made clear so, like most of the onlookers, they moved towards the next speaker, a young man arguing about communism with members of his crowd. This back-and-forth exchange held them for ten minutes. They then followed a footpath that led to the Serpentine. They ambled along the path that ran beside the lake, breaking the rolls into pieces and throwing them towards the swans and ducks until a man told them they should not feed the birds. They apologised then put the few that were left in a waste can, found an empty bench and sat down.

  “There’s so much I want to talk about Maria, I don’t know where to begin.”

  “What do you want to talk about?”

  “Us. And what we do next.”

  “It’s too early to talk about us, Bob, and what we are going to do next. We must just let things develop, if they want to. Let’s see what happens when it happens. We can talk about the future after we have experienced more of the present. We’ll know better what we want ‘us’ to do then.”

  “I suppose you’re right. It’s funny, it’s like I was a young man, not knowing what’ll come next. It’s almost uncomfortable.”
/>   “Do you want to stop seeing me?”

  “Oh no. Just the opposite. But what else I want, beside making love with you, I don’t know.”

  “Nor do I Bob. It’ll be fun finding out, won’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll do. We’ll let it develop and see what happens. We can make decisions about the future later.”

  “Okay, although it’ll be difficult for me. I don’t even know what to do about the rest of my life without knowing what we are going to do.”

  “Why are you worried about the rest of your life?”

  “It’s the business mostly. I’m not sure I really like it. Sure, it’s about to make a lot of money but I’m not happy with my role. Ken makes almost all of the decisions, which is all right, he has all the ideas and is doing all the work in the shop. I just seem to be a salesman and I don’t really like that.”

  “Can’t you hire people to market and sell the toys?”

  “We will be looking for a distributor. If we find one they’ll do most of the marketing and they’ll know the shops that will sell our stuff. Then I’ll have nothing to do.”

  “Didn’t you talk about making different kinds of toys?”

  “Yes. Yes, that’s right. I could do that. I’d much rather do that than what I’m doing now.”

  “Then your problem’s nearly solved. Find the distributor then design different toys.”

  “Yes, that’s the way to look at it. I’ll try that.”

  “And let what happens between ‘us’ develop as it wishes.”

  “All right.”

  They stood up and walked along a path to Hyde Park Corner. There they found a deli, bought wraps and bottles of juice and waited until one of the pavement tables was empty then sat down. Afterwards they took the tube to Leicester Square, walked back to the hotel, collected their bags and took the tube to Victoria. An hour later they were at Gatwick. Bob collected Maria’s bag from his car and they walked to the check-in counter. Once she had her boarding pass and her bag had slid along the ramp they had time for a coffee. He remembered the bank draft and gave it to her.

  “It’s for £1,000. That should cover the rest of the payment for the August tour I think. I don’t know the conversion rate.”

  “Yes, it should be enough. If it’s not, I’ll pay the rest. It won’t be far wrong.”

  “Let me know if it’s not enough. And you’ll write to me?”

  “If you’ll write to me.”

  “I feel like writing to you every day.”

  “Don’t do that! Once a week is enough. I won’t be able to write more often than that. You can write some poetry and put that in your letters if you want to write more frequently.”

  “I wonder if I could; I’ve never written poetry.”

  “We had to do that at school. I quite liked it, but my poetry mostly made the girls laugh although the teacher gave me good marks for the stuff I wrote.”

  “When you retire you could become a writer.”

  “Maybe. I wouldn’t mind trying. I’d have to do something like that if you’d be in your workshop making toys all day.”

  “Hey. Are you making plans about our future? You see us together?”

  “Oh, I must have been thinking that. Just for a moment. But that’s only one future; it might not be the one that develops Bob. Sorry. I shouldn’t have said it.”

  “I’m glad you did. Then I can do the same thing, dream about possible futures.”

  “Just remember they’re only ‘possible’ ones though. Hey. I must go. I should be in the boarding lounge by now. ‘Bye Bob.” She stood up, bent down, kissed him quickly on his forehead and ran towards the gate.

  Bob stood up, almost started running after her but remained standing, watching her being passed through the gate. He waved when she briefly turned her head towards him then sat down again when she went out of sight. ‘That was too quick. It wasn’t a proper goodbye. I’ll sit here for a while and collect my thoughts.’ His emotions slowly died, then, five minutes later, he stood up and walked to his car.

  He drove slowly home, thinking about the weekend and Maria. The house felt empty when he walked in. He put his bag down and collected all the clothes and put them on his bed. He’d put them away later. He had a pot pie for supper, not bothering to add any extra vegetables. At nine he phoned the children. The grandchildren were looking forward to the school holiday. Sam was enjoying his new job and learning how to manage other people. Regina had started to play golf and joined her husband’s golf club. “It’s cheaper for a family membership and I’m thinking that Roy might start too.”

  “Tell me how he likes it the next time I phone,” he said.

  “If he tries it. At the moment he’s not very interested.”

  He told Sam and Regina that the BBC would be filming Small End in two weeks time and that they might film him and the workshops. They said they’d look out for the program and watch it.

  “Can you copy it for me if you see it?” he asked both of them.

  “Yes Dad,” said Regina.

  “I’ll try,” Sam answered. “Our machine sometimes doesn’t work properly, the tape jams. I think I’ll buy a new one. I’d like to see what the BBC thinks about the future of Small End.”

  Afterwards he wrote a short letter to Maria, telling her again how nice the weekend was. And he included a poem. He wrote: ‘You were here—then gone. Sorry it’s short, but it says all I want to say.’

 

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