Bob of Small End

by David Hockey

  Chapter 33 We-Have-It

  The parlour workshop was busy Saturday morning as Ken, Bob and Jack removed the routers, saws and sanders. They used one of the small vans to take them to the Centre where Ken and Bob installed them on the new bench. Jack hung the new exhaust ducts and fluorescent lights from the ceiling then mounted the heater fans under the bench. After a quick lunch at the Crown they fastened the rails to the supports then made and hung the plastic covers. They stopped at four and Ken and Bob agreed to meet at nine on Sunday to set the heater-fan temperature and the fan air-flow rate. Jack was glad when they said they wouldn’t need him, his construction work had been arduous.

  Bob walked home, had a bath, put on one of the nice sweaters that Regina gave him several years ago and sat in his chair. He had half an hour to relax before going to the pub and quickly fell asleep. He woke at six-thirty, hurriedly donned his mackintosh and almost ran to the Crown.

  “Late again,” laughed Joe. “Been moving more chairs?”

  “Nope. I’ve been moving and installing the equipment from your milking parlour. It’s in the new shop now,” said Bob as he put his pint on the table and sat down.

  “I saw you when you were putting it in the van. What’ll you do with the parlour now?”

  “We’ll use it to develop ways to produce new toys, a research and development place.”

  “I thought you were going to do that in your own shop.”

  “Well, I’ll design them there but we’d use your place to try out the jigs we’d need.”

  “You don’t need that much space to do that surely.”

  “No we don’t, but we agreed to rent the building so we’ll keep it and put it to use.”

  “Would you like me to find someone else to use it Bob?”

  “Hadn’t thought about that. It’s unlikely that we’ll use it to make toys there in the future, it’s much easier if everyone’s in the same shop. There’s room for another bench in the hall if we needed more workspace. But I don’t know what Ken might want to use the shop for. I’ll ask him and let you know.”

  “You have two benches in the hall now Bob?” asked Jane.

  “Yes. We made the second this week. Jack helped us install the stuff from the old shop today.”

  “What’s happening with your wholesaler?” asked Rose.

  “He called for fifty of each set this week.”

  “I hope he sells more than that!”

  “So do we.”

  “Mor’ drinks anyone?” asked Jack.

  Joe handed him his glass, “I’ll have one.”

  “Not for me thanks,” said Bob.

  “Girls?”

  “I’ll have another,” said Rose.

  “Nothing for me Jack.”

  Jack returned with the drinks and the menu on a tray. They chose their meals and Jack placed the order with Len.

  “You know we’re having an adults’ dance this week?’ asked Jane. “I hope you’ll come.”

  “We will,” said Rose, as Jack returned. “Won’t we Jack?”

  “Aye if I must, but I ain’t much of a dancer.”

  “Then you should come to the dance lessons,” said Jane. “Seven to nine Wednesdays evenings, in the big hall.”

  “I didn’t know you had started any classes,” said Rose.

  “This is the first one. We have four more starting the following week and we’ll add others once we get suggestions and teachers. You said you might teach bird carving didn’t you Bob?”

  “Yes but not this year. I should have time to do that after Christmas.”

  “I’ll remember to ask you then. Do you think Ken would be interested in teaching something?”

  “Don’t know. I’ll ask him but he’s even busier than I am so I don’t expect he would.”

  “How about you Jack?”

  “Nay, too busy.”

  “Are you too busy to print some letter head and cards with our new address on for us Jack?”

  “I’d rather not Bob.”

  “Try the print shop in Big End,” said Rose. “They have a good reputation.”

  “You mean Printer’s Delight?”

  “Yes that’s right.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  “Reminds me Bob, here’s my bill,” and Jack handed Bob an envelope.

  “Right. Pay you at the end of the month?”

  “Aye.”

  “We’ll have a longer holiday this Christmas Jack,” laughed Rose, “with all the money you’re bringing in!”

  “You’ll close t’shop Rose?”

  “Yes. It’ll be nice to have Christmas away for a change. I could do with a rest from cooking.”

  “Oh Bob, before you came I told everyone that the BBC is broadcasting the Small End documentary tomorrow night,” said Jane. “Did you know about that?”

  “No. What time?”

  “At eight.”

  “I’ll watch it.”

  “If you don’t fall asleep first,” added Joe.

  When he got home he phoned Regina and Sam. He told Regina to watch the BBC documentary on Sunday for he’d be in it and they would include something about his company.

  “Can you record it for me?” he asked.

  “I’ll try but ask Sam, he’s got better equipment.”

  Unfortunately no one picked up the phone at Sam’s house so he left a message about the show and asked him to record it. He hoped that one of them would do it although he didn’t know what he would do with the tape because he didn’t have a machine to play it on. ‘I’ll have to buy one of those when I buy a microwave.’

  Sunday morning Ken and Bob worked on the new line, setting the routers’ positions in their jigs and adjusting the heater and exhaust fans’ flow-rate. It didn’t take long and, since it was only ten thirty, they made a hundred pin-holders for the painting line.

  “That’s it,” said Ken. “I’ll fine-tune everything on Monday.”

  “Joe asked me what we were going to do with the old shop last night Ken. When I told him I would be designing new toys there he asked why I wouldn’t do that in my own shop. I told him I might and he said he’d look for another tenant if we wanted. What do you think we should do? Do you have other plans for the place?”

  “None that I can think of. This place is much better. Lots of room to move about in. It’s a good idea, ask him to look for someone else. We’ll pay the rent until he finds someone.”

  “All right. And Jane asked if you’d like to teach a course at the Community Centre.”

  “No way. Mary would kill me if I agreed to do that. Next year, maybe in the summer or fall, but not now.”

  “I told her the same thing when she asked me. I don’t want more work right now. Oh she said the BBC’s running the Small End episode tonight. Did you know that?”

  “Yes, Mary told me. At eight, I think. I meant to tell you in case you hadn’t heard. Let’s hope they do a good job on Small End Wooden Toys!”

  “Yes.”

  Whilst waiting for the show that evening Bob wrote to Maria. He told her what he had been doing during the week and that June’s income had been pretty good but didn’t tell her the amount. Then he asked about her activities, saying that he hadn’t got a reply to his last letter and hoped that she was all right. He didn’t include a poem for he couldn’t think of anything to write about. He signed the letter ‘with love from.’ Then he went to the cupboard and poured a glass of port, turned on the television and sat back to watch the show.

  He enjoyed what they had done, how they covered the village and what the committees had done and, especially, the way they had presented the Wooden Toy’s development. He called Jane after it had finished to ask her what she thought of the program.

  “They did a good job explaining what we’re doing in Small End. I especially liked their shots of the village, the streets, houses and the new development areas.”

  “What did you think about the Community Centre part?”

  “It wasn’t long enough. It sho
uld have shown more of the inside I think. They did a good job on Wooden Toys though. What did you think?”

  “It covered all the most important things. The sequence showing my shop then the milking parlour and ending in the new shop was excellent. Brief, but complete. They demonstrated our growth in about four minutes.”

  “Yes, however I didn’t think they emphasised the wooden aspect. They should have done that at the end.”

  “I was concentrating on what they were filming and hardly heard the narration. They spent a lot of time showing our employees. They’ll like that. We’ll, I think you and your committee have done a great job on everything. Did you record the show?”

  “Yes I did. Do you want a copy?”

  “No, Regina or Sam should have one for me. But thanks, if they didn’t make it I’ll ask for a copy.”

  “Okay. ‘Bye Bob.”

  “‘Bye Jane.”

  Monday morning Bob worked in the shop, mostly doing odd jobs, fetching the wood, brushing the needles on the used pin-holders to remove dried paint, screwing hooks on the front and back of the trains and carriages and helping with the gluing. There were so many things to do and time went quickly but he made time to call his bank and speak to Mrs. Pringle. She arranged to see him at one o’clock. He told Ken during the tea break that he’d be driving to Big End at lunchtime to go to his bank and he’d order the new stationary.

  “We could both go,” Ken said, “and take the vans. I’ll use one to drive us back.”

  “Okay, I’ll tell Lori to call the garage and let them know we’re coming. She’s probably got a list of things for us to buy as well.”

  “I know we’re running out of train hooks.”

  They drove the vans to The End Garage and walked into to Charles’ office.

  “Hello boys. Your girl, Lori, tells me you want to return the two small vans. What’s up? Only delivering big loads now?”

  “Something like that Charles. A wholesaler will deliver for us the future. Yes, we want to return the vans but not both right now, we need one to get back home.”

  “One of my boys would take you back if you like.”

  “Thanks, we’d like that. We have to do some shopping first, though. Could he take us in about half-an-hour?”

  “Sure. I’ll have the paperwork done by then. You know, I’m rather glad you’re returning them. We’re having a lot of requests for short-term rentals and don’t have enough vans to fill all of them so we are losing customers.”

  “You get more money from short-term rentals too, I suppose.”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Then you won’t charge us any extra for not giving you a month’s notice will you Charles?”

  “Oh Bob. I almost guessed you’d say that. Okay, I won’t. You take one of them, do your shopping and someone will take you home when you bring it here. Just give me the mileage on the clock before you leave. Are they full?”

  “No. We forgot to do that.”

  “Well, fill the van you take and I’ll have someone look after the other one. We’ll add the petrol cost to the bill.”

  “Thanks Charles.”

  Since it was nearly one o’clock they drove to Bob’s bank first. Mrs. Pringle had everything arranged.

  “No one I’ve dealt with has paid-off their mortgage in one month! You must be doing very well!”

  “We are, Mrs. Pringle, we are. Thanks to you for helping.”

  “My pleasure. And come back to me if you ever need to do it again.”

  “I will, Mrs. Pringle, but I hope I never do.”

  They drove to Printer’s Delight where Bob explained what they wanted and the young man said that they’d be ready Friday. Their last stop was at the lumber yard where they bought the screw-hooks. Lori had nothing else on her list. Leon was not there so they had no news about the developments at Small End. They bought a roll and a coffee at a deli, filled the van with petrol and returned to Charles’ garage. He was standing outside.

  “Hi. Let me just check it and we can sign the papers.” He looked around the outside and into the back, turned the key and checked the petrol gauge.

  “It’s fine, just like the other. So let’s sign the papers and we’re done. I’ll be sending you a cheque for the days you haven’t used. Neil’ll drive you to Small End.” However, instead of returning to the office he walked them to a Rover parked in the back lot.

  “What do you think of this?” he asked.

  “Whose is it?” asked Bob.

  “Mine,” said Charles. “Do you like it?”

  “Love the looks. How much does it cost?”

  “I bought it second-hand. I don’t know what you’d pay if you bought one. You can’t have this but I can help you find a used one.”

  “New ones are very expensive Bob,” said Ken, “and you already have a car.”

  “Yes, I know, but this one looks a lot nicer.”

  “Ah, hah! There you go; you’re beginning to think how you can spend your money. I told you that would happen,” said Ken.

  “Just interested, that’s all.”

  “Come and see me if you want one like that,” said Charles.

  “I might do that but don’t hold your breath. I can’t buy a car right now.”

  There was a letter from Maria waiting for him when he got home that afternoon. He took it to the kitchen, put the kettle on for a cup of tea, sat in a chair and opened it. Two pages. Maria wrote that she was busy arranging trips and working overtime several nights that week. ‘Everybody wants a holiday’ she wrote and added, ‘Organising complex trips is more interesting than handling simple ones. I’m looking forward to seeing you. Less than a month now. Are you looking forward to it? You told me you’re very busy, do you have time to think of me? Love to you, Maria’.

  Bob sat there and dreamed. How nice it would be if he and Maria could be on holiday all the time. It didn’t matter where, just being with her was all that mattered. They could be in Small End or in Lagos; six months here and six months there. That would be wonderful. He wondered how much money it would take to do that and if it would interest Maria. Maybe, in less than a year, he’d be able to retire and do what he wanted.

  Bob stopped at Joe’s farm on the way to work Tuesday morning. Jane was in the kitchen and he told her that Ken wouldn’t have the time to teach this year. “He says he might, sometime next year.”

  “Did he say what he’d do with the parlour?” she asked.

  “Yes. He doesn’t plan to use it and we like Joe’s idea of looking for someone to rent it. I prefer to use my shop if I’m designing new toys. So could you see if you could find someone to rent it? We’ll continue to pay the rent until you do.”

  “Sure. I’ll tell the committee about it, they might know of someone. There’s lots of people moving here. Most are looking for jobs but some have small businesses. I’ll put a notice on the community board saying that there’s a workshop to rent. In fact I think we should have a separate notice board especially for that kind of information.”

  “Rose might not like that. You’d be taking business away from her.”

  “Well I’ll speak to her about it. She might not mind though, it can’t be a big money-generator.”

  Two young women were leaving the Centre’s office when Bob arrived. Ken told him that they’d seen the BBC documentary and had hoped there would be jobs there. Ken told them there weren’t and he took their names and phone numbers in case some one left.

  “Salisbury Boxes phoned, our pasteboards are ready. Can you collect them? Bert or Gerry could do it but I’d rather they kept working, they’re in the rotation-sequence.”

  “Sure, I’d be glad to. Anything else you need?”

  “Talk to Lori, she might know of something.”

  He found Lori in the shop doing the odd-job stuff he had been doing yesterday morning.

  “No, it’s just the boxes we need.”

  “No deliveries to make?”

  “No. I guess everyone’s calling
We-have-it.”

  “So you’re not getting any phone calls asking for toys?”

  “No, not now. None.”

  “Ah, well, we’ll find out what’s happening when Dave Posser calls. See you later then.”

  It felt a little strange driving to Salisbury in a big empty van. He enjoyed its faster pick up and also the fact that he didn’t have to be constantly thinking about where the next shop was.

  “Hello Bob. Glad to see you again. I didn’t know who’d be collecting the pasteboards. How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine Bill. How are you and Dan?”

  “Great. Lots of work here. You must be getting a lot too, judging from the number of boxes you are buying.”

  “Yes we’re doing well. Did you see us on TV?”

  “No, but I heard about it. A BBC production on Sunday evening, wasn’t it? Dan asked me if I saw it yesterday. He said it was interesting to find out how you had started and developed so quickly. Ken must be quite a go getter. Dan said that he was the one who explained how the production line worked.”

  “Yes. It’s all due to Ken. I would still be selling directly to a few shops if he hadn’t turned up.”

  “Well I expect you’ll be selling to lots more now; people all over England will have seen it and will want to buy them. You’ll need a lot more vans.”

  “No, a wholesaler delivers now. He has hundreds of vans.”

  “Oh good. Well, I’ll help you load. Are you backed to the loading door?”

  “Yes.”

  Twenty minutes later Bob had signed the receipts and was back in the drivers seat. ‘I’ll have lunch in the river pub,’ he decided. He found it, ordered fish and chips and ate them slowly, taking his time and enjoying the rest. He drove back to Small End, thinking it was a good life when there wasn’t a lot of work to do or deadlines to meet.

  During supper he remembered the signs he was going to make for the new workshop. ‘Plywood would be best, painted white with black.’ After washing the dishes and tidying the kitchen he found some thick ply, cut it to size and coated each piece with outdoor white and left them to dry.

  Dave Posser called first thing Wednesday morning and asked for five hundred of each set. He told Lori that several retailers had said their customers had found out about the toys because they’d seen the BBC show.

  “Most of the others would have come from your retailers. From now on I expect we’ll be getting a lot of requests. The BBC production was a big bonus for you. I hope you’ve got plenty in stock.”

  “We have,” said Lori. “About four thousand of each.”

  “Okay. That should be enough. Can you deliver before noon?”

  “Yes. They’ll be there.”

  Lori told Ken and Bob what Dave had said. Bob told them he’d drive and Lori and Craig helped him load the van.

  The trip to We-Have-It was pleasant for it was another fine summer’s day. The guard recognised the van and let him in. He reversed into one of the bays and a man unloaded the toys and gave him the signed receipt. He moved his van to the side of the yard then walked to Dave’s office. Dave was on the phone but beckoned him in and pointed to a chair. A minute later he hung-up.

  “Were you expecting that?” asked Dave.

  “An order for five hundred of each? No, although I suppose something like that was likely to happen sometime.”

  “It’ll continue for a week or two I expect. After that it’ll depend on word of mouth. Unless you’re on TV again. That was a bit of luck, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes it certainly was. Want to have lunch with me to celebrate?”

  “No I can’t Bob. Too busy. Maybe in a month’s time, after the holiday season; things will be easier then.”

  “Yes, same with me. It’s the tourists who mostly buy the toys. When they’ve gone sales drop off.”

  “Same for gifts, china, clocks and so on. Oh, excuse me, I’ll have to take that,” and he picked up the phone.

  Bob got up, smiled, waved his hand and left the office. Another chance to have a pub lunch. Now I wonder if there’s a pub by a river near Basingstoke. He drove around and asked a couple of people. One suggested Old Basing but Bob didn’t find one. So he chose a nice-looking road house, one that had room for his van and ordered a curry.

  He helped pack boxes when he returned, cooked a salmon steak for supper then bathed, put on a nice shirt and a tie and, at seven, walked over to the Community Centre and joined about a dozen people who were standing at the back of the hall. He knew three or four but simply smiled at them. About five past seven one of the ladies in the group walked to the stage, turned around and said, “Hello everyone. My name is Jenny Painter. I’m your dance teacher. I’ve taught dancing for several years and am glad to do it again in Small End. The first thing I have to do is find out how well you already dance and I can best do that by watching you. We’ll start with a waltz. I see we have eleven people. Can you all choose a partner and I’ll dance with whoever’s not got one. Two women dancing together is fine. I see we only have three men. Now don’t worry if you don’t know anybody, you’ll quickly get to know each other as we dance. That’s one of the reasons dancing’s so popular.”

  She pressed a button on the tape machine and the sounds of Victor Sylvester’s ballroom orchestra playing a slow waltz filled the room. One of the ladies walked to Bob and asked him if he would dance with her.

  “I’d love to. Thanks for asking. But I don’t dance very well.”

  “Nor do I. That’s why I’m here. My name is Sue. What’s yours?”

  “Bob. Bob Barns.”

  “Aren’t you one of the owners of Small End Wooden Toys? I saw you on the BBC documentary Sunday.”

  “Yes I am. What did you think of the show?”

  “What you were doing in the shop was very interesting but so were the shots of the village. My husband works with one of the construction companies and we’ve just moved here so I don’t know much about Small End.”

  Jenny and her partner moved towards them and she said, “you’re both doing quite well. Can you show me some other steps?”

  “No, sorry, Jenny. What we’re doing is about all I know,” said Bob.

  “Okay,” and she danced her partner to another couple and watched them until the music finished. “Okay. Now crowd around and watch me. There are a couple of turns only two of you are using so the rest of us will learn them. We’ll learn the first one now. Bob, would you be my partner? Okay, now watch us, then try doing the steps by yourself. And do rise-and-fall with the beat, many of you didn’t do that very well.”

  The two hours passed quickly, much quicker than Bob had thought they would and he decided to return next week. ‘I’ll go to the Saturday adult dances too,’ he told himself, as he walked back to his house. ‘I wonder if Maria likes dancing, I hope she does.’

  Bob spent much of Thursday helping in the shop and thinking about how he’d spend his time once the shop was mostly running itself. He’d like to do the deliveries to We-Have-It. He’d spend the rest of the time in his workshop, designing and making new toys, and, perhaps, taking more holidays. With Maria, if she could take the time. This kept his mind busy, for he really didn’t like working in a factory, which is what the shop had become now. Thinking about the future rather than the present helped the time to pass more quickly.

  Diane told Ken and Bob as they were all eating lunch in the tea room that all the newcomers would like to go to the pub everyone went to last time. “Everybody said the place was great. Could we go there?”

  “For sure,” replied Ken. “I was just thinking that everybody had forgotten about the month’s lunches.”

  “Not me,” said Luke.

  “Then, Lori, book a table for us, please.”

  “All right, but it’s likely to rain tomorrow and if it does we won’t be on the patio like we were last time. I’ll book it for one o’clock, not twelve-thirty like before. We had to rush to get there at twelve thirty and that spoiled it a bit.”

 
; After lunch Lori told Bob that she’d finished copying all the data from the old computer to the new one. “Now you can learn how to use a computer.”

  “I’ll do that at home, Lori, not here.”

  “Then I’ll number each plug and socket. Plug one goes into socket one, and so on. That way you can’t make any mistakes. Most of the plugs will only fit into their own socket anyway, so you won’t have any troubles.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’ll bring you some of my old games. Play those and you’ll quickly become used to what the computer can do and how to handle the mouse.”

  “What do I do if anything goes wrong?”

  “Don’t worry about that. Tell me if it happens, I’ll tell you what to do then.”

  “All right.”

  He drove his car to the shop Friday morning, ready to take a group to the pub and so he could carry the computer and the washing home afterwards. He expected to spend the morning working in the shop but Dave Posser phoned as he was asking Lori how many toys they had in stock.

  “I need another load of toys,” Dave told Lori. “A thousand farm sets, eight hundred village and six hundred trains. Can you get them to me by lunch time?” She told him they could and repeated the numbers to Bob. He hung up the overall he’d just put on and they loaded the van. Bob set off, driving as quickly as he could but rain slowed the traffic and it was twelve-thirty before he got back to Small End. Lori, Craig and Alan were standing at the door.

  “We were getting worried Bob. Everything okay?” said Alan.

  “Sorry, I couldn’t drive any faster. The roads were a slippery and everyone was going slower. I’ll just get the overalls then we can go.”

  “You don’t have to do that Bob,” said Lori. “Ken’s taken them.”

  “Oh, I hope Mary doesn’t mind. Okay, climb in and we’ll be off.”

  On the way Lori gave him a small bundle of floppy disks and the computer’s instruction manual.

  “Start with the disk I’ve labelled ‘1.’ It’s the easiest game and it’s fun. You know how to insert it, just push it into the slot on the front of the computer after the computer is on. Don’t push it in before or the computer won’t start. Okay?”

  “Yes. Thanks Lori. I can’t do it this weekend. Maybe next. I’ll let you know when I’ve started.”

  “All right. Have fun when you can. That’s what we do, isn’t it, Craig?” He smiled back at her and said, “Yes.”

  They sat at a large rectangular table in a corner of the pub’s biggest room, Ken at one end and Bob at the other. The place was packed and it was much noisier than when they were on the patio. Talking was difficult but they enjoyed themselves. Switching places now and then allowed them to talk to their friends but there was a general feeling that they should go to another place next month. Afterwards Bob took Alan home then drove Lori and Craig to their apartment. When they arrived at the door Lori said, “Don’t come in Bob, the place is in a mess. The kitchen cupboards are on the floor and half the walls have still to be painted. Wait ‘till we have the party.”

  Their stationery was ready at Printer’s Delight. Bob returned to Small End and put the package on Lori’s desk, collected the old computer and drove home, wondering where to keep it. ‘I’ll put it in Sam’s room. Don’t have to keep that for storage any more.’

  Washing, cleaning, tidying and a bit of gardening filled Saturday morning. After lunch Bob took the stencils to his workshop and marked the letters for three notices on a sheet of plywood. The largest, stating Small End Wooden Toys was for the front of the building. the next was to designate the visitor’s parking space and the last directed deliveries to the back of the building. He cut out the letters with his jigsaw then glued them into place on the ply he’d painted white. He’d paint them tomorrow.

  After a mug of tea Bob bathed, put on a white shirt, a red tie and his blazer and went to the pub. Rose and Jack were there, dressed rather smartly, sitting at their usual table.

  “So you’re going to the dance too,” laughed Bob, as he put his pint on the table. “Where’s Joe and Jane?”

  “Still getting dressed, I imagine,” replied Rose. “Jane phoned me just before I left to say that Joe had only just come in and would have to shower so they’d be late.”

  “Why didn’t she come on ahead?”

  “Ah, she told me she couldn’t, she wanted to be sure Joe put on something decent.”

  “I didn’t know the dance was a big social occasion,” said Bob.

  “But you dressed up for it so you must have guessed what it’d be like. Joe’s usual pub clothes aren’t what most people would go to a dance in. Here they are.”

  Jane joined them at the table and Joe, dressed in tie and jacket, ordered the drinks. He carried them to the table and was about to put them down when Jack said, “Nay, sorry, this seat’s fer Mr. Joe Smith.”

  Everybody burst out laughing and Joe grinned sheepishly.

  “Thanks. Just what I needed. And who are you lot anyway?”

  They laughed again. Bob looked around the pub to see if there were other people dressed as if they would be going to a dance. A group of six looked as if they might and he pointed discreetly towards them. “Looks as if they’re going. Anyone know them?” Nobody did.

  “Probably new-comers. Let’s hope so, dancing’s a good way to integrate,” said Jane.

  “I helped ‘integrate’ some on Wednesday,” said Bob. “I went to the dance lesson and danced with three or four women who are new to the village.”

  “What was it like? Was the instructor any good?” asked Jane.

  “I liked it and she was very good. We learned two new waltz steps and she said we would be working on the quickstep next Wednesday. Oh, and how to rise and fall.”

  “Rise and fall? Wot’s that? Fall on t’floor an’ rise up?” asked Jack.

  “No, you dope. You do it standing up.”

  “I know what you mean,” said Rose “but we don’t do it.”

  “I don’t know wot you mean,” said Jack.

  “Don’t worry Jack,” said Rose. “I’ll do it and you do what I’m doing. It’s easy, once you know how.”

  “Hey let’s order and eat or we’ll be late,” said Joe.

  They weren’t late but there were already about forty people in the hall when they arrived. It turned out that Jenny Painter was in charge of the evening for she climbed onto the stage, held up her hand, welcomed everybody and introduced herself. She told them that the cafeteria would be open for an hour at nine for light refreshments then she introduced her husband, a middle-aged man, saying he would be operating the sound system. He waved, moved to the side of the stage and, a moment later, the sounds of a large dance band filled the air.

  “Jenny’s a great find,” said Jane. “She was the first to volunteer.” She turned to Joe and said, “Well, let’s dance.”

  Rose looked at Bob. “Who are you going to dance with if I dance with Jack?”

  “You go ahead. I’m going to look around and see if there’s anyone from the dance class. I’ll dance with them.”

  “Okay. Come on Jack. It’s a long time since we’ve danced.”

  “And don’t forget the rise and fall,” called Bob, as they moved away.

  It didn’t take long to find two of the ladies from the class. Bob danced with both and rejoined his friends afterwards. They had found enough chairs and were sitting on the side of the hall.

  “Tired out?” he asked.

  “Nay, but I can’t tango,” said Jack.

  “Nor me,” said Joe.

  “All we do is the waltz, quickstep and foxtrot,” said Rose.

  “Then you’d all better go to the dance lessons,” said Jane. “I’d go if I could get Joe to go.”

  “I’m too tired during the week,” he replied.

  “So am I,” said Jack.

  “Well I seemed to have more energy at the end of the lessons than I did at the beginning,” Bob said. “I don’t know why. Oh there’s a foxtrot.
Do you mind if I ask Jane to dance with me Joe?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Shall we?” So they danced. Bob sat at the table until Rose was free then he danced with her.

  “How about a rest and a coffee everyone?” said Jane.

  “Good idea,” said Joe. “I’m ready for a rest. Let’s go,” and they joined several others in the cafeteria.

  “When do we actually become members of the Centre?” Rose asked Jane. “Surely there must be a membership fee.”

  “Yes there is. We thought that the first month should be free, a gift to everyone who’s helped, but we’ll make an announcement next week about membership.”

  “Do we pay for lessons?”

  “Some will be free, dancing lessons, for one, but there’ll be a fee for some of the others, like cooking or woodwork. We’ll have to have extra cleaning done for those. We’ll see what happens and adjust the membership and lesson fees as we go along. Shall we go back to the hall?”

  “I’d rather not Jane,” said Joe.

  “All right, you’ve done well Joe,” Jane said. “Shall we go to the next dance?”

  “Yes, I enjoyed this. It’s nice not to think about the farm for a while.”

  “I’d like to go home too,” said Jack.

  “Oh okay. I’m pretty tired too. Are you going to stay Bob?”

  “No. That’s enough. But it was fun.”

  So they walked home, saying goodbye to Bob as he turned into his garden.