Bob of Small End

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Bob of Small End Page 45

by David Hockey


  Chapter 44 Retired again

  Friday morning arrived. Bob lay in bed and didn’t know what to do. He guessed that Lori and Craig would soon be loading the van but he couldn’t offer to help. He couldn’t help load Ken’s furniture, their movers would do that. He couldn’t even work in his own shop because he’d packed all the tools. He got up, dressed and went to the kitchen for breakfast.

  It was a dreary day, windy, blowing intermittent traces of rain and walking would be miserable. He sat at the kitchen table feeling a bit depressed. ‘This is ridiculous,’ he told himself. ‘This is what I wanted to do. I should be happy.’ He stood up, washed the porridge bowl, made a pot of coffee and took it to his easy chair, gradually cheering up as remembered all the things he had to do. He picked up his pen and made a few notes.

  Finishing his coffee he removed the list of items he’d take to Ken’s house from the fridge door and walked once more through the house adding items as he went. He’d have to have enough drawers in the bedroom for Maria so he added Betty’s dressing table to the list then added her end table. He would borrow the van from Lori to move them over and he might as well do it next week. He smiled as he worked his way through the house; it was surprising how having something to do, something to work towards, took depression away.

  After lunch he walked to the village grocery shop and bought a steak. He’d grill that for supper in the oven. Perhaps the next one he cooked would be on a barbecue.

  Ken called him at four o’clock. “We’re leaving Bob. The movers have just left. I’ll put the keys in the door mail box. Enjoy the place.” Bob wished them a safe journey and hung up. Now, should he go over and look at the house or should he wait for tomorrow. The damp and dull day decided him, he’d wait.

  Bob was up at six and breakfasted was eaten and cleared away by seven. The weather was no better than yesterday, dark clouds, squalls of rain and gusty winds but he couldn’t wait any longer, he had to see his new house. He put his camera, the spare roll of film, his notepad, measuring tape, ruler, two pencils and an eraser in a carrier bag; all the tools he needed to draw a floor plan of the house.

  He parked the car in front of Ken’s garage and looked for the key on the set Ken had given him. There was nothing to fit the lock on the big door, just one to open the small one at the back. He entered that way, switched on the light and there, on the wooden bench, were two door openers. Of course, Ken had an automatic door opener. He pressed one of the buttons and the door lifted. ‘Well, I’m certainly going to like that,’ and he put one of the openers in his pocket.

  He closed the door, crossed the flag stones to the back door of the house, found the key which opened it and went in. He didn’t know this corridor for he’d always entered by the front door. There was a metal rod for hanging clothes on his right. It would be useful when entering from the garage or garden. He’d put a boot tray on the floor there he decided. There was a door just past it which he opened. It was a laundry room with water and electrical outlets waiting to be connected to machines. Two more things to buy. It would be nice to be able to dry clothes in a machine and not worry when it rained. He walked along the corridor to where it joined the hall. He knew the rest of the house. There was a powder room on his right, the kitchen and the dining room were facing him and Ken’s study and the stairs were on his left. He walked to the front door, switched on the lights and collected the keys from the mail box. He turned and looked down the hall, past the kitchen, dining room, study, stairs and across the lounge, drawn by the rosy glow, lit by the light from the rising sun. It was shining on patches of the grey clouds that covered most of the sky. It drew him into the lounge and he walked to its windows and looked east. The river on that side of the garden was covered with choppy waves. They disappeared as the river curved right to run along the bottom of the garden where the water was sheltered by trees on the far side.

  He turned and walked back to the kitchen, turning on all the lights as he entered. They had taken all the appliances. He rather expected that although he wouldn’t take his when he sold his house. He’d buy new ones, maybe an Aga if Maria wanted one. That is, if there was enough room for one. He left the lights on and entered the dining room. Plenty of room here for all his family but he’d have to buy a big table. He was glad Mary had left the curtains, they made the empty room much more cheerful. He crossed the hall and went into Ken’s study. It, too, was empty. Only the curtains remained but he could remember how Ken had furnished it and planned to arrange it in much the same way, two easy chairs and a small sofa set around the fireplace, a small desk and chair next to the window and a wall cabinet when he could keep his wine and liquor, glasses, books and two or three family photographs.

  He climbed the stairs and visited each bedroom leaving the master until last. Mary must have cleaned the rug that they had left in one of the spare rooms because it looked so bright. He would move it into the master bedroom and use it until they had bought a new one. Then he went downstairs, out to his car and collected his bag. He would measure each room then photograph them from it’s doorway.

  It was eleven thirty before he’d finished. He thought about measuring the garage but decided to just photograph it. All he would do there was remove the bench and replace it with a smaller one. He’d have a bigger one in a workshop he planned to build in the garden. He took a photo of the house and garage from the road and used the last two shots to photograph the garden looking eastwards and then to the south-west. He locked the house and closed garage door, tested the garage opener to ensure it worked from inside his car, then drove home.

  There he made a mug of coffee and sat in his easy chair looking at the sketches he had made. He’d redraw them using carbon paper to have a copy that he’d send to Maria. He’d send her a copy of the photographs too, as soon as they had been processed.

  Bob took the two rolls of film to the Big End photographers after lunch ordering two prints of each, drove to the shopping centre where he looked in the windows of the hardware shop to see if they had any barbecues. He didn’t see any, presumably they wouldn’t display them until spring now. He entered a furniture shop and made his way to the easy chair section.

  “No, I’m just looking,” he told the assistant, “but I like this kind of chair. Do you have a two-seat sofa that goes with it?”

  “The company supplies them and we can order one for you. All we have at the moment is this three-seater,” and he pointed to it on the other side of the room. “Here is the manufacturer’s brochure and my card. Please ask for me if you decide to buy.”

  After doing his shopping Bob drove home thinking about the study furniture. He liked what he had seen but he should look at more before deciding. He’d drive to Southampton and Bournemouth and visit their furniture shops next week. Once he’d found the nicest he’d order it.

  “It’s strange being retired again,” he said, after sitting down with his pint in the Crown that evening. “There’s too much time. Yesterday I didn’t know how to fill it.”

  “Just give me a call when you feel like that Bob,” said Joe. “I’ll give you some work.”

  “No you don’t. Bob’s got to relearn how to retire,” Jane told him. “You had three years of retirement before this year Bob, so you can soon discover how to fill your time.”

  “I suppose so, though I’ll never make wooden toys again. I might carve birds but I think the next thing I’ll do is make a workshop and a boat house then make a boat. Like the one we used to use Joe. Remember it?”

  “Yes, I do. We had a good time. That was Dad’s old clinker. I wonder what happened to it.”

  “He burned it when the tractor backed over it shortly after we were married Joe.”

  “We’d could all go fishin’ agin’, if it’s big enouf,” said Jack.

  “Yes we could. I’ll make it big enough for four. Not until next spring, though. I’ll be too busy, or on holiday before then.”

  “See, Bob, now you’ve plenty to do,” said Jane. “You won’t
have any spare time.”

  “I guess not. Say, what did the committee decide about Christmas? Are you going to have a party or a dance?”

  “We’re still arguing about it. The thinking now is that we should have both, a party for the children and a dance for the adults. I’ll let you know what’s been decided next week. We’ll have to know by then otherwise there won’t be enough time to get anything organised.”

  “Any plans for your holidays?” asked Bob.

  “We booked two weeks in Spain,” said Joe. “It’s in February, it’s the one we talked about taking.”

  “We’re taking a ten day bus tour to Nice at the end of January,” Rose said. “I’ve always wanted to go there. It’ll be nice and warm.”

  “You’re closing the shop then?”

  “Yes. We won’t miss much trade. Are you still going to Lagos Bob?”

  “Yes, for a month, and to Paris for a week over Christmas.” He immediately wished he hadn’t said that, it was like saying he had enough money to go on holiday anytime he liked. Which was true, but not nice to say to people who couldn’t do the same.

  They had another round of drinks and talked about how the village was growing and the rumour that there would be another row of shops built the other side of the Post Office next summer. Then they left for home.

  He redrew the floor plan of Ken’s house Sunday morning, adding the length of each wall. Then he sketched the garden, guessing at its size and tried to visualise how it would look with a workshop and boathouse in one corner. He’d have to remove half of one of Mary’s flower beds but that would be all right, he didn’t want to spend a lot of time growing flowers.

  It was still too miserable to go for a walk after lunch so he wrote to Maria, describing the house and telling her that he’d send the photos of the rooms next week. He asked her if she’d like an Aga and told her that he’d have to buy that or a stove this month and a refrigerator, because he’d be moving in before December, adding that he’d leave the ones he had in his old house for Lori and Craig. ‘And do you want a dishwasher? There’s room for one.’

  As usual, he phoned Regina first that evening and told her that he now owned Ken’s house and would be moving there later this month.

  “I need a name for it, Regina. I can’t keep calling it Ken’s house. Do you have any ideas?”

  “Not at the moment. I’ll think about it. Are you coming to see the play that Roy’s in? It’s from December 11th to 14th.”

  “You bet. I’ll stay for a night if I may, then visit Sam the next day. Can I tell you which day after I’ve called him?”

  “Yes.”

  Sam suggested coming on the Saturday. When asked what the new house should be called he proposed ‘Toymade.’ Bob promptly vetoed that. He phoned Regina afterwards and told her that he’d come on Friday to see the play.

 

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