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Bob of Small End

Page 46

by David Hockey


  Chapter 45 Moving in

  The mail dropped onto the mat as Bob was watching the morning television news show Monday morning. It was his electricity bill and Maria’s letter. In it Maria said that she didn’t want to come for a month in January. ‘For one thing, we’ll have been together for a week in December and you’ll be here for a month in February, so we’ll have seen a lot of each other. I want to be here when I start my freelancing, I don’t want to miss any calls. The most I’d come would be for a week. We can choose the basics in that time and you could get the rest. I’ve already had a request to guide a tour in February and I’ve accepted. I’ve asked but they don’t want to pay for an assistant. Too bad! Maybe you should join us and take the tour.’

  Maria writing ‘we’ll have seen a lot of each other’ troubled Bob. Was it just due to her wish to make a success of her freelancing career or did she only want to see him occasionally? He thought about writing and asking her but ruled against it. He didn’t want to push her in a direction she didn’t want to go. He’d have to see what happened over time. He’d have to find something that would keep him busy in Lagos when she wasn’t there.

  The phone rang. It was Lori who told him a cheque for £51,750 had arrived. “Thanks for letting me know, Lori. I’ll collect it later.” He wanted to spend this warm day at Ken’s house, no, at his house, measuring the garden and thinking where he’d put a vegetable plot. He’d also have to rethink and maybe redraw the workshop he was going to build and integrate it with the boathouse. If he did that it would make more room for a vegetable plot. He made some sandwiches put them in a carrier bag with a plate, glass and an apple. One of the first things he should buy was a refrigerator, one with a bigger freezer than the one he already had. He’d measure the gap in the kitchen to find out what size he should buy.

  Bob used the garage door opener and parked his car in the garage just to see how much room he’d have when it was parked there. Plenty. Then he measured the garden, noting the distances between the corners of the house and the garage to the corners of the lot. He marked where Mary’s flower and shrub beds were and where he planned to build the boathouse and workshop.

  He stopped at Wooden Toys on his way home. It was five thirty and everybody except Lori and Craig had gone home. Craig was cleaning the extractor filters and Lori was checking the stock room.

  “Why, hello Bob. I’ll just finish here then get you the cheque.”

  “Hello Lori. How has your first day been?”

  “Great. Everybody was cheerful and we probably made fifty more farms than usual.”

  “You’ll have to make more shelves then. And they’ll have to go in the next room, there’s not much room here.”

  “Yes. Craig’s going to do that tomorrow night if the wood arrives. Leon wasn’t sure they had what Craig wanted.”

  “Hello Bob,” said Craig, as he entered the room.” Enjoying your retirement?”

  “Yes, thanks, Craig. It’s strange not to be busy all day but I’ll get used to it.”

  He took the cheque to the bank Tuesday morning, transferring money to his and to Ken’s accounts, then visited the other, larger, Big End furniture shop. They had a comfortable easy chair in the rich brown-leather he liked but another, one that reclined and had an extending footrest, attracted him more. It would be nice to sit in that, put up his feet and look at the fire or the television or read. He collected brochures from the assistant then drove to Bournemouth and parked near to Tina’s shop.

  "Hello Tina. How are you?”

  “Oh, Bob! Hello. Haven’t seen you for a long time. Are you delivering here today?”

  “No. It’s a long story. Let me buy you lunch, some Thai, and I’ll tell you what’s happened.”

  Tina, since it was Tuesday and didn’t expect much lunchtime traffic, closed the shop and they walked to the restaurant. There Bob told her about the many changes that had happened to him. Then he asked her about her business and what she’d been doing.

  “The business is just the same; no big increases or drops in sales. I think I’m going to try selling my things through the internet. Tommy knows how to do that and he’ll set it up.”

  “Tommy? Wasn’t he your ex-boyfriend?”

  “Yes, but we’re together again. He’s asked me to marry him but I don’t think that would work so I said no. A bit like you and Maria I guess.”

  “Yes, it sounds like it.”

  After lunch Bob went to two of Bournemouth’s furniture shops and one of the department stores. They carried the same lines as the shop in Big End but in one of them the reclining chair also rotated. He asked the price and if they could be obtained in all colours and fabrics. When told that they could he thanked the assistant and moved on to look at the writing desks, collecting a brochure that described them.

  It was Guy Fawkes’ night that Tuesday so, after supper, Bob walked to the park and across the playing field to where the bonfire had been burning for some time. Joe was pushing foil-wrapped potatoes into a bed of red embers and Jane was sitting at a table waiting for the first load to be cooked.

  “We’re selling the spuds this year. Fifty cents each, to raise money for the Centre. If you want one, Bob, you’d better buy a ticket.”

  He bought one then walked over to Jack who was standing by the fireworks and offered to help. “Nay, Bob,” Jack said, “don’t need no help, thanks. There’s four o’us already.”

  His potato number was shouted in the middle of the firework display. It was too hot to eat but cooled quickly after he’d broken it in half. He remembered when Sam had burnt his mouth from eating his so long ago. Not Regina, she was always careful. The youngest children were given sparklers after the fireworks had finished and they ran around waving them. The crowd began to disperse and Bob and his friends decided to go to the Crown for a drink but when they opened the door it was so noisy and crowded that they changed their mind.

  Bob drove to Big End Wednesday morning and talked to the assistant about the rotating chair he had seen in Bournemouth. He was told that they could also provide them and so Bob, wanting to trade locally, ordered two of them and the two-seater sofa, all in the rich brown leather. He gave them a deposit and they said it would be delivered by the end of the following week.

  While driving back to Small End he decided to call the new house Rivermead, partly because it was on the river but also because years ago he had read a story about a couple who lived in a cottage called Rivermead and had envied their pleasant life. They had a boat and sailed along the Thames to go to the village pub. He could use the boat he’d make to go to the pub on the river-path or even go to the sea but he couldn’t sail it either way, the river wasn’t wide enough. ‘I’ll have to buy an outboard motor if I want to do that. Ken was right, it’s easy to spend money once you have it.’

  After lunch he placed the boxes holding his tools on the shelves in the garage and checked to see how the bench was fastened to the wall. ‘It shouldn’t be too hard to remove,’ he thought.

  Thursday he went to the Big End library and looked at several sailing and hobby magazines knowing that one of them should have a design for a boat that would be suitable but it took him an hour to find one that was big enough for four people and had a reinforced stern so it could take an outboard. It was sixteen feet long, probably four feet longer than the one he and Joe used so many years ago. The sketch in the magazine was complete, with measurements given, but the designer sold a much more detailed diagram with details about construction, the plan for a form upon which it could be built and a list of materials. Bob copied down his address and ordered the package that evening.

  Maria’s letter arrived Friday morning. ‘It’s a lovely house and it’s so nice to have a river along two sides. But isn’t it damp in the winter? I guess you’ll find out soon. No, I wouldn’t like to cook on an Aga, I’ve never used them. I’d prefer a conventional stove.’ Reading that he decided to order the stove and refrigerator the next time he was in Big End.

 
His bank manager called him during his tea break that morning and told him that a money transfer of £300,000 had arrived. “Do you want the bank to put it in your savings account?”

  “No, thanks. Put it in my checking account, please. I need quite a lot right now. I’ll transfer what I don’t need later. Can I draw from it today?”

  Assured that he could Bob called Arthur to tell him that he wanted to discharge his mortgage. Jennifer answered his call and suggested he bring his cheque book today. “And if you’re here before lunch we could start the process today.”

  He drove directly to Arthur’s office. Jennifer told him that he should write a cheque for £175,336, payable to Mr. Glone’s firm and leave it with her. “It’s for the remaining principal and interest. Mr. Glone had to go out but he’ll handle this when he returns. There’ll be a few additional charges, not much, and he’ll send you his invoice and the discharge papers once your cheque has cleared.”

  Bob drove to the appliance shop in Big End Saturday morning and spent over seven thousand pounds buying a large fridge, a modern, convection stove, a dishwasher, a washing machine, dryer and a microwave. They were very happy with his order and promised delivery and installation as soon as all of the appliances had arrived. He next collected his photographs and looked through them as he ate his lunch in the Fox. He shopped afterwards and collected more boxes, to hold clothes this time, and was home in time for a bath and a nap before supper.

  At the Crown that night Jane told everyone what the committee had decided about the Christmas activities.

  “We’re having both events at the Centre, a big party for children who are under twelve on Saturday December 14th and a New Year’s dance on Saturday December 28th. So most families will be happy. However, there’s a catch, the New Year’s Eve do is fancy dress. If you don’t wear some kind of costume the entrance fee’s doubled. So, how many want to go?”

  “We’ll go,” answered Rose. “I’ve got my grandmother’s dress and I’ll wear that. And her hat too. What’ll you wear, Jack?”

  “Me apron?”

  “Your carpenter’s apron? No thanks! I’ll make you a sheik with a sheet if you can’t think of anything better.”

  “Nay, I’ll think o’ somat.”

  “How about you Bob,” asked Rose. “What’ll you wear?”

  “I’ll not be going Rose, I’ll be in Paris. How about you Joe. What’ll you wear?”

  “I can put on my work clothes and carry a hay fork.”

  “Too dangerous,” announced Jane. “We wouldn’t let you in if you had one of those. And you’re not wearing your old clothes either. If I have time I’ll make something for both of us.”

  “I’ll be sorry to miss this,” said Bob, “I hope you have one next year.”

  “If this one’s a success we probably will.”

  “Then I’ll look for something to wear when I’m in Portugal.”

  He enclosed a labelled set of photographs when he wrote to Maria and told her he’d ordered the appliances and the furniture for his study. ‘All the rest I’ve left until you come. I want my study arranged the way Ken had his, that’s why I’ve ordered those. It should all arrive next week. I’m looking forward to December 22nd. Only six more weeks. Love, Bob.”

 

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