by Paul Kelly
“Bertie . . you’re not leaving this car until you tell me what I want to know,” Joe demanded, but Bertie had other ideas and didn’t need to open a door to make his exit.
***
Freddie was delighted that the Fiat had come home again as he sat polishing the dashboard, singing happily to himself and thinking about the holiday plans ahead.
“Wish I could drive, Wish I had a car . . just like this one,” he muttered to himself as he pulled the steering wheel from left to right and back again, but he did not notice the impression on the seat beside him, that suddenly became visible and seemed to move as if it were breathing. Nor the weary sigh that said. “I wish people would be content and stop wishing . . . and then maybe I could have a little rest.”
Chapter Twelve
Maggie had prepared most of the packing that they would require for the holiday, days before they actually set off. It only remained to shove in a few small items like toothbrushes and face flannels and things like that . . last minute items. Actually she had been so excited that she had been getting things ready for weeks beforehand.
“I’ll need a lot of clothes for the baby, Joe. Can you and Freddie manage with the one suitcase if I use the other one for John Paul and me?”
Maggie produced a large case from above the wardrobe and dusted it carefully. It hadn’t been used since the last holiday and that was about seven years before, but Joe was over-enthusiastic to help where he could.
“That’s fine Love . . we don’t have much to take anyway and as long as the weather keeps up like this, we’ll be swimming most of the time, won’t we Freddie?” said Joe, but before Freddie could say anything, Joe heard the Voice . . .
“It’s quite some time since I went swimming, but I’m willing to try.”
Freddie nodded as he chewed on some sticky sweets and Joe scowled over his shoulder.
“You haven’t forgotten our snorkels and flippers, have you Joe?” Freddie asked between mouthfuls of his gooey candy and again Joe could hear the Voice before he had a chance to answer.
“Oooh!, that would be nice. I’ve always wanted to try on them snorkelin’ things. Joe . . Joe . . .”
Joe waited for an opportune moment when he knew that Maggie and Freddie wouldn’t hear him talking, even if it was with his mind and with his eyes tightly closed.
“What is it now Bertie . . and before you answer, I wish you’d shut up when other people are talking to me . .”
“Sorry dear boy . . but I would appreciate a little of that lovely smelly stuff that Freddie’s got in his mouth . . Could you get me some please . . oh! and Joe . . I think it would be better if we spoke with our minds all the time from now on, eh?” said Bertie, but Maggie interrupted . .the two minds that spoke together.
“We haven’t forgotten any of those important items, Freddie, along with my water wings, of course, have we?” she asked as she laughed, clasping a nappy pin from between her lips at that moment. “You’ll make me swallow this thing and then there won’t be any holiday, but a trip to the hospital instead,” she chuckled but a certain blue cloud wavered beside her.
“Joe?”
Joe closed his eyes for a second and spoke with his mind.
“Yes Bertie . . what is it this time?”
“Joe . . do you think I could have a pair of water wings too? I ‘d like that.” the Voice said and Joe began to think . . . . but the Voice answered him.
“No Joe . . I wouldn’t like that nappy pin stuck where you’re thinking of putting it . . thanks all the same.”
Joe checked the baggage to make sure everything was alright and to put everyone’s mind at rest as Maggie settled herself comfortably in the back seat of the car with John Paul on her knee. Freddie sat next to Joe who was driving . . . and . . . .
“And who’s going off for a nice summer holiday then?” she asked her new born, “And who’s gonna be a good boy too?” she added, but she didn’t notice the movement in the seat beside her as an invisible hand moved a rattle nearer her skirt, so that a certain person could sit in comfort. Joe glanced over in that direction through the driving mirror before he set off. He had promised Bertie that he could come with them on holiday, but then he hadn’t seen him for over a week and that promise was beginning to sound hasty, if somewhat threatening. He was apprehensive about his old friend and it was beginning to show as he tried to start the engine but the car wouldn’t move.
“Oh! I hope I’m not going to have trouble with the plugs now . . at this stage. I thought they would be O.K. when the service was done.”
“Having trouble Joe . . are we?” came a Voice from the back seat, followed by a little cough and Joe closed his eyes again, ready to snap at his friend when the car immediately purred into action.
“Don’t forget to ‘think talk’ with me Joe and then we’ll be able to say anything we want. We’ll be able to chat all the way along the journey, won’t we?”
“That’s what I’m worried about,” said Joe and Maggie overheard, as he wasn’t using his ‘thinking voice.’
“What was that Dear?” she asked, but Joe coughed lightly and smiled at her through his mirror.
“Nothing Sweetheart . . I was just a little worried about starting the car, but it’s alright now,” he said and he could see Bertie grinning in the back seat.
“Drive carefully now Joe,” added Bertie, “And don’t you worry about me, dear boy . . I’ll be just fine.”
“You will as long as Maggie doesn’t change the baby on that back seat,” said Joe
“Bertie . . Bertie, where are you?”
“Wheeeh, this is great, “ came the answer as a couple of scrawny ankles dangled at the top of his mirror. “I’m up here at the ceiling for a while Joe . . I think Maggie needs the space, as you said, but I’ll be down again soon, just whenever she’s finished. Wheeeh . . I’m looking forward to this holiday by the sea side.”
“Don’t forget Bertie . . you and I have a lot of talking to do . .” said Joe as he drove through the streets, like the practised driver, he wasn’t.
“Plenty of time dear boy . . plenty of time. Wheeeh! This is great,”
Joe sighed. He wasn’t too unhappy that he had agreed to his friend coming with them on holiday . . . well, not really and Freddie unwrapped a bar of chocolate and stuck the end of it in his mouth, breaking off a large chunk with one bite
“Oooh! . . that looks nice Joe . . that thing that Freddie’s got stuck in his mouth. Do you think I could have just a wee bitty?” came a Voice from somewhere near the roof of the car, but before Joe could answer, Freddie shouted. “Hi! That’s not fair. I was eating that . . Give it back” and the chocolate bar flew out of his hand . . . only to appear after a few seconds in Joe’s hand . . with another chunk bitten off.
Maggie strained to see what was going on from where she was sitting.
“Don’t be spiteful Joe. Give Freddie back his chocolate,” she pleaded and Freddie sulked as she tried to settle the argument.
“Oh! I don’t want it back now that he’s had his great big gob round it,” he said, but Joe stared at the half-eaten chocolate bar in amazement. He had neither eaten it, nor wanted it and yet here he was with the sticky thing jammed in his hand. Nobody spoke for some time after that but if they had listened carefully they might just have heard a chocolate bar being consumed with apparent relish by a toothless old man sitting in the back seat of the car next to a plump lady with a baby on her lap . . . and all heading for a holiday by the sea.
“I’ll get you another bar at the next petrol station Freddie. I just felt a . . a sudden impulse to eat some chocolate . . that’s all,” said Joe apologetically and Freddie came out of his sulk with a smile.
“A large quarter pound one, Joe?” he asked.
“Yes,” sighed Joe.
“Wheeeeeh!” screamed someone
else . . with his mind, “Me too please,”
‘And the band played on . . tiddly-om-pom-pom.’
Chapter Thirteen
‘Oh! I do like to be beside the seaside. Yes I do like to be beside the sea . . .’
The music blared across the sea front as the spray of crystal-like foam battered against the sea wall, followed by the crashing of the mighty waves that washed across the esplanade, throwing seaweed and shells higgledy-piggledy onto the footpath with its sad little view of empty benches. Deck-chairs were sent spinning across the remaining sand and attendants cursed their lack of vigilance over the sudden and violent storm. It came out of the blue and lasted for nearly two days. Maggie came rushing back from the beach into the guest house with John Paul under one arm and his carrier chair folded, wet and dripping under the other. Joe ran in after her, grabbing Freddie by the arm and holding frantically onto his old straw hat, of which he was so proud. Fortunately, Freddie had his bucket and spade with him and the former gave him the protection he needed, where it was needed most.
“So much for the English summer, eh?”
Maggie dried the baby and settled him in his cot with a bottle of warm milk.
“Freddie,” she shouted hoarsely and cleared her throat,” Make sure you dry your head properly. We don’t want you getting a cold, especially at this time of the year. Joe will you tell him please? You know how his nose bleeds when he gets a bad cold,” she snapped and Joe dried his nephew’s hair as instructed to prevent the haemorrhage . . and to keep the peace.
“Yes Dear,” he acquiesced and rubbed Freddie’s head with a vengeance as the boy lost his balance and fell into a chair, screaming that his brains were being shook out of his head. The rain beat heavily against the casement windows of their bedroom, in spasms, with the driving wind and they could hear thunder in the distance as lightning slashed vigorously against the walls, making the baby cry.
“There, there Darling. You’re alright. Mummy’s here, Pet.”
“It’s too heavy to last and it’s gonna be better tomorrow . . or so it said on the radio,” said Joe as he went into the bathroom to wash his hands.
‘Yes, I do like to be beside the sea . .’
Joe joined the chorus of the fading music, which came in spasmodic blasts as the wind blew stronger . . . . . and grew silent when it didn’t. He pulled his eyes down as he gazed into the mirror, to examine the red fleshy tissue underneath, grunting with dissatisfaction as he let the skin plop back again into place.
“I’m getting gray too,” he added as he stroked his temples, pulling lightly at his sideboards and it was then that he saw the other face in the mirror beside his own. A face that grinned back at him. A toothless grin that made him wince.
“Bertie, you shouldn’t do things like that. Appearing so suddenly out of the blue. I could have had a heart attack,” complained Joe, but Bertie only grinned again as he studied his own head of hair with apparent pride.
“Many a man of my age is as bald as a coot . . don’t you agree Joe?” he remarked smugly but Joe ignored his friend’s self-appraisal with an insolent sniff.
“Can’t even go to the toilet these days without someone following you,” he protested angrily.
“Oh don’t be so fussy Joe . . You’re on holiday, don’t forget and you want to enjoy yourself. Just forget I’m here, that’s all,” said Bertie and Joe stared at the ceiling.
“If only I could,” he sighed, but Bertie didn’t hear that remark . . It was one of those occasions when his hearing wasn’t at its best . .
“Perhaps you might like to take a swim in the sea . . or something,” suggested Joe with his tongue in his cheek, but Bertie pooh-poohed the idea with a wave of his scrawny hand as he changed the subject to discuss the weather.
“Sorry about the storm, dear boy,” he said as he squinted through the small bathroom window at the darkening sky outside. “Didn’t expect this when you started out yesterday, did you know?” he sniggered, but Joe ignored the old man’s remarks as he ran his fingers across his chin to check his stubble.
“Thought that would have been no inconvenience to you, DEAR BOY,” Joe remarked caustically. “You seem to do anything you please . . .”
The old man sniffed and looked uneasy into the mirror as Joe turned his back on him to put his hands under the drier and the whirring sound made Bertie jump. Joe smiled as he turned again to look at himself in the mirror.
“Two heads in a bathroom mirror and only one body standing in front of it. Can’t you at least make an appearance or something?” he snorted, but Bertie stood in silence with a twinkle in his eye as he shook his head and his white hair fell loosely about his shoulders. “You need a haircut too,” added Joe.
“ I think I have lovely hair, dear boy .. Not many men of my age . . well, as young as I am even, have as nice a head of hair as that . . You can see that surely.”
Joe heard the echo of the Voice as it tapered away into the distance as he dried his hands for the second time and then straightened his tie before he left the bathroom . . but as he was leaving, he met Freddie at the door.
“I thought I heard voices in here Joe . . did you?”
Joe ran his hands across his hair.
“It’s all in your mind, lad . . all in your mind,” he said as he strolled past his nephew and headed for the lounge.
***
The bad weather persisted for most of the holiday, much to the surprise and disappointment of everyone, where Maggie and her family were confined to the Guest House lounge, a great deal of the time. She watched television and did her knitting when she wasn’t attending to the baby and Freddie walked about in a daze, listening to his portable radio, sometimes jiving quite contentedly by himself in his world of hand and foot movements, which he alone understood. Sammy slept most of the time and Joe was just plain bored.
“Think I’ll take a walk along the front Maggie . . blow the cobwebs off my hat, eh?” Joe said as he stood up and yawned, thrusting his arms into the air and Sammy pricked up his ears and raised his front paw. The front left paw was for please whenever he wanted something to eat and the front right paw was always an indication that he would like to go walkies . . .
“Later Sammy . . later when it’s a bit better outside,” said Joe, but Sammy ignored his master’s excuse and whimpered up into Joe’s face; his large wet eyes pleading as he cried.
“Oh! alright then . . come on . . but you’d better keep running or you’ll get soaked.”
The dog shook himself excitedly with both his hind legs in the air . . Another trick he used when he was pleased or satisfied. He barked twice and ran to get his lead.
“Do be careful Darling . . the wind is strong and the waves have been coming up over the sea front wall, as high as a house at times. Be sure to wrap up well and wear your raincoat. Did you bring your wellies with you?” Maggie’s solicitude was touching.
“No I didn’t . . didn’t even bring my umbrella, did I?
Maggie lifted John Paul onto her lap and smiled at Joe as she answered.
“Fat lot of good an umbrella would have done in this weather anyway . . probably have blown itself inside out and taken to the air . . with you with it.”
Joe put his coat on and Sammy ran round him in circles with his lead in his wet mouth as John Paul pulled at Maggie’s ear ring and gurgled happily.
“Ouch! You little devil . . that hurts. Be careful now Joe, won’t you?”
“Don’t worry Love. I’ll be fine. Won’t be long anyway . . Just need a breather, that’s all,” he called out and Sammy whimpered more in his impatience as he waited for Joe to finish his excuses to get out in the rain. “Come on then Boy. Want to come with us Freddie? Freddie?” he called out, but the nephew was absorbed in his music; his eyes rolling in his head, clicking his fingers as he moved. Joe smiled and sighed. “That leaves on
ly you an’ me then Sammy. C’mon.”
As he stepped out into the rain, Joe pulled his coat collar high around his neck and his cap well down to his ears and Sammy ran on ahead, stopping only to check that Joe was following him close by and shaking the rain from his furry coat, sending as much spray into the air as did the frothy jets from the sea. He unbalanced his hind legs in his vigorous movements, shaking his lead violently between his fanged teeth.. It was obvious that he, at least was happy and that the rain didn’t bother him one little ‘bitty’. . . and Joe was pleased that he could have some time to himself. He loved his new little son but he did make a lot of noise, he thought as he squelched contentedly through the puddles in his stout shoes, whistling quietly as he went, being quite content to saunter along at his own pace and let the rain pepper his face.
The sea air was fresher than he had ever imagined it could be and he welcomed the pungent smell of the seaweed in his nostrils. Somewhere in the gray and heavy clouds above his head, he could just catch a glimpse of the sun, straining hard to get through and ignoring the thunder that rumbled away in protest, far beyond the horizon and he stopped by the concrete sea wall to look over, keeping a safe distance as the waves approached and then moving forward again as they subsided. Sammy followed Joe’s movements and leapt in the air, turning himself around as he went, in stupid circular movements, as he showed off and battered his lead harshly into the wet ground, whenever he came to rest again. He was having a wonderful time and Joe took a deep breath as he closed his eyes to absorb the peace that he experienced at that moment, allowing the fine spray to caress his face. He too was happy, despite the inclemency of the weather as he dreamed again of his new car and of the strange events of the last few days.
“Thinking about me again, are we Joe?” came the Voice and Bertie stood beside him dressed in a yellow oilskin coat which reached to his ankle, showing an over-large pair of wellington boots, peeping out from underneath. He wore a matching colour sou’ wester, with the brim folded back from his head to expose his rugged face and a rain drop dripped slowly from his nose.