A Right Old Fiasco in Borrington

by M W Foolster

  Jason is then tempted to break into a round of applause, having been impressed not only by the commuter's agile turn, but by how he'd managed to swivel and kick the megaphone in the one movement. But maybe a foolish action in that he's now hopping around clutching hold of his foot. Yep, that must of hurt. And if that wasn't bad enough, the two builders have also turned on him, their roaring voices announcing their displeasure. Jason almost feels some sympathy for the man, he really isn't having a good morning, and it's just about to get a whole lot worse. Having been unceremoniously shoved in the back by one of the builders and still clutching at his foot, the commuter now has Rafa bearing down on him. With the megaphone having struck him directly on his nose, Rafa had yelped out in pain, shaken his head ferociously and started to bark menacingly; the culprit now firmly in his sights. Unable to restrain him any longer, NostraTone can but stand and yell after Rafa, albeit in vain. The builders certainly have the sense not to hang around, ten stone of pure muscle thundering towards them, is enough to get them running in the opposite direction. And credit where it's due, because in what Jason can only describe as being a quite stunning gymnastic manoeuvre, the commuter has somehow managed to spring from the platform to the top of the ticket machine. A brief hesitation and he's leaping towards the thick perspex topping the seated tram shelter, raises himself up and promptly collapses. Mind you, with that ferocious beast bearing down on you, the adrenalin rush would most likely get most people performing superhuman feats. Rafa leaps around beneath him, barking and growling viciously, the commuter sat rigid as he stares down helplessly. But Robbie and NostraTone soon have Rafa back under control. Whatever tasty morsel NostraTone had shoved under Rafa's nose proving to be far more appealing than the petrified commuter. Still not placated, the commuter starts shouting something about the police, dogs’ homes and a lunatic asylum. Robbie responds to the threat with his middle finger.

  Jason checks his watch, sod it, he best get a move on. Robbie will inevitably be late, and with Jess having been delayed, it will be down to him to open up. Smiles to himself as he watches Robbie and NostraTone marching off together, a contented Rafa trotting along beside them. Despite the heated rhetoric between them earlier, Jason knows that they've been close friends for many, many years. Robbie had been his best man when he'd got married, is godfather to his son, in fact prior to the accident, the pair of them were inseparable. Both cricket fanatics, had played together in the same team as youngsters, and once their playing days had ended, they'd be at the Oval cricket ground watching Surrey play at every given opportunity. And, as for the internationals, both of them planned their lives around the England test series, Robbie constantly requesting unpaid leave so he could get to the matches played abroad. The pair of them constantly boasting at being members of the England supporters' barmy army. Robbie had once shown Jason a photo album packed full of photos, each of them relating to their travels around the world following the England team, a detailed written record next to each of them. Was only when they played the West indies that allegiances changed, but Robbie had quite enjoyed that, in fact, those were the matches that he remembered with the fondest memories. All but one at any rate.

  And then back in, Jason thinks 2005, they'd been at the Oval, watching the England versus West Indies test series. The usual friendly banter, Robbie not best pleased as the West Indies batmen had been tearing through the English bowlers, firing shots into the crowd for fun. Tony, as he'd been known back then, hoisting his placard into the air with a giant 6 scrawled upon it and teasing Robbie. And then it happened. Robbie less than a foot away from Tony at the time, another almighty strike from a West Indies batsman, the ball heading directly towards them. Tony’s eyes had lit up, placard dropped, hands ready for the catch, already planning his celebration. However, the ball had flown straight through his hands and struck him in the middle of his forehead. A freak accident. But it had led to Tony spending three months in hospital, skull fractured, first four weeks in a coma, several fragments of bone needing to be removed and eventually, a metal plate inserted. He'd also suffered a partial memory loss. But perhaps most significantly, he'd awoken convinced that he'd been chosen as a messenger, that the accident had been a blessing in disguise, that the future had been revealed to him in a series of visions. It became an obsession. The walls of his flat full of astronomy charts, an obsession with attempting to plot the paths of comets, days spent studying in the library, or searching the Internet for any shred of information that he could find. And most evenings spent peering through the expensive telescope he'd asked Robbie to help him choose. He'd refused the psychiatric treatment as recommended by his consultant, adamant that he that he wasn’t suffering from any form of an illness. He was convinced that he was one of the chosen few blessed with the gift of prophecy, and that he had a calling to fulfil. Eventually, it had led to the breakdown of his marriage and he'd lodged at Robbie's temporarily before finding a small studio flat. And with his employer's patience having finally run out, he was deemed unfit for work and medically retired from the accountancy firm he'd worked for since graduating from university. He'd welcomed the retirement, the guaranteed income, ecstatic that it would leave him free to completely devote himself to the purpose he was born to fulfil. His wife had passed away several years later, not that he'd attended the funeral, and he'd lost touch with his son many years back. No family as such, and few if any friends with the exception of Robbie, who attempted to keep watch over him, ever hopeful that his old friend might one day return. It had been Robbie who’d bought Rafa for him a few Christmas's back, concerned that Tony was in need of some company. And there’s no doubting that NostraTone is totally devoted to the dog. Jason dreads to think what would happen to Tony if he didn't have the dog to him safe when walking the streets.

  A stern voice yelling loudly brings Jason back to his senses.

  “Oi, watch where you’re walking you bloody idiot,”

  He looks up, briefly making eye contact with a skinny, gaunt faced male, with what looks like a huge black caterpillar crawling across his top lip. The male is now leaning out of his car window staring menacingly at Jason who's struggling to squeeze past the front bumper. Although tempted to retaliate, because it's not as though caterpillar man is going anywhere fast, he decides against it, probably be more trouble that it's worth.

  In fact, the traffic is totally gridlocked from North Borrington all along the London Road, and for as far as the eye can see. He’d never known it this bad, just as well he’d decided to walk. The air now full of beeping horns, impatient motorists trying to edge their way forward, many like caterpillar man leaning out of their car windows shrieking obscenities at each other. And of course, there would be an idiot driving a huge 4x4, an embarrassed looking school girl sat in the back, trying to get out of a side turning. Jason shakes his head in disgust on watching as the 4x4 driver impatiently mounts the pavement in an attempt to turn right, not that there's a gap to pull into, and only succeeds in blocking the path for pedestrians. A cyclist dressed in black lycra narrowly avoids crashing into it, and is less restrained than Jason in that she shouts a mouthful of abuse at the 4x4 driver before kicking at the car door. Having then manoeuvred herself around the car on foot, she speeds off along the pavement. Jason regrets no longer having his own bicycle, he really must get a new front tyre, assuming that Cathy hasn’t dumped it that is. He remembers it still being in the garage the last time he’d visited the boys, will make a point of checking with her. His chest suddenly feels very heavy, the traffic fumes are suffocating, a quick check of his watch confirming that he is at least making good time.

  “Any idea what's going on?”

  Jason’s taken by surprise by the stranger who has suddenly appeared alongside him. And then he recognises the woman from the bus, the one who’d enquired as to his wellbeing following the attack by buggy woman. Now smiling at him through perfect white teeth, her breath-taking hazel eyes having certainly caught his attention. A nervous smile as he replies.
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br />   “No idea. Never seen it like this. You gave up on the bus then?”

  “No choice, it was taken out of service. The bus driver suddenly announced we were all to vacate the bus immediately but couldn’t provide any further information. You can imagine the abuse he received from a certain passenger.”

  Nods his agreement. “Yer, a brave man if you ask me. Wouldn’t want to have that...”

  He hesitates, should he refer to her as a wild animal?

  “Crazy bitch?”

  That gets Jason laughing.

  “Well, yer. That's good a description as any. She was certainly acting the part and not the first time I’ve had a run-in with her. Look, thanks for your help back there, am often tempted to say something but would only get a mouthful of abuse."

  An uncomfortable silence. Think Jason think, just say something, anything.

  "So, do you work nearby?”

  “The hospital, and it’s Stella.”

  Looking up at the sky as he replies.

  "What is?"

  "My name of course."

  Of course. Sorry, thought you said stellar. Sorry... It’s a pleasure to meet you Stella. I’m Jason, well, Jay to my friends,”

  “And am I?”

  “Sorry?”

  “A friend?”

  Jason can feel himself blushing profusely, he’s never been particularly confident and has always found it a struggle talking to an attractive woman.

  “I, err… Well... I do hope so."

  Quickly changing the subject, he asks.

  ”So what is it that you do at the hospital? A nurse?”

  “Do I look like a nurse?”

  She giggles, her hand squeezing his arm gently, lingering for several seconds.

  “Would love to be but no, as you can see, no uniform.”

  He glances across at her, still blushing, admiring her figure hugging business suit, black heals showing off her shapely calves. He suddenly becomes self conscious, concerned that she might think he’s ogling her, looks down at his feet, her approving smile having gone unnoticed.

  ”No, nothing quite so interesting, I work in hospital admin. What about you, the hospital too?”

  “Me? God no. Borrington library.”

  “A library. Not sure whether to envy or pity you. Isn’t it very quiet and extremely boring? Do you just spend the whole day reading books? Sorry, I didn’t mean any offence.”

  A mischievous glint in her eye telling him otherwise.

  “None taken and no, neither quiet nor boring. As for reading books all day, well, chance would be a fine thing. I know where you’re coming from though, there has always been this misconception about public libraries. But couldn’t be further from the truth.”

  “Are you sure? If, shall we say, I was to visit your library, wouldn’t there be that horrid musky smell as soon as I entered the building? And wouldn't it be very dark and everything covered in dust, anything but inviting. The books all wedged in so tightly that I could easily break a nail in trying to remove one, that’s if I’m even fortunate enough to find the one I want. And not as though I’d dare ask for assistance, never anybody to ask, is there? "

  "Well actually there is always a member of staff ready and willing to deal with any enquiries."

  "Really, Jay? And would that be a little old lady peering at me over the top of her specs, thumping a date stamp down on my books, that's assuming that I lucky enough to find any that I want to read. And then the long wait as she takes an eternity to find the little brown sleeves for the book tickets, telling me to schhhhhhh if I dare to ask a question, or speak too loudly. And not as though there's ever many people in there to disturb anyway.”

  “You’re teasing me, right?”

  “Me? Tease you? Why would I? It is how I remember it being the last time I entered a library. It must be so quiet and boring”

  “Really? Just how long as it been since you was last in a in a public library, Stella? You’ll be relieved to hear that we’re all fully computerised now, and we most definitely do not have any staff even remotely resembling that description. And as for the building, it's warm, well most of the time, and welcoming, we want out customers to have an enjoyable experience. It really is a community library in every sense of the word. As for boring, is anything but. Take today for example. We’ve got 20 PCs available for the public to use free of charge and we spend a fair chunk of our time running between them dealing with queries. A Children’s Storytime, followed by a musical Playtime, that brings in a 100 plus people and so the library will be heaving. An older persons club this afternoon, so we will be running around with tea, coffee and biscuits. I might even get a game of dominos if I’m lucky. A fiction reading group early evening. And it will be down to me to orchestrate a discussion regarding, well, what is quite possibly the most boring book I’ve ever had to read, but I'll do so enthusiastically and with a smile on my face. And then of course we also act as information officers dealing with any council related queries. We pride ourselves on ensuring that our actual book borrowing customers receive both the customer service and personal service that they fully deserve. And so boring? Let me think. No, never get the time to feel bored."

  "I'm impressed, Jay. Sounds as if you enjoy your job."

  "I do. In fact, I am very proud of the service that we offer. But as for how long it will continue…."

  "What do you mean?"

  "If the bloody politicians and councils get their own way, well, there just won’t be many libraries left in years to come. Many councils are deliberately running their libraries into the ground. There has been a severe lack of investment in stock and little, if any, building maintenance. And so as a service, it really does need the support of the public. Use them or lose them. And if you do ever come across a member of staff like the one you described, damn well complain about them, it gives us all a bad name.”

  He notices that she is giggling, something isn’t quite right here. An incredibly beautiful and intelligent woman approaching him, flirtatious and seemingly interested in a friendship, perhaps more… No, that just never happens to him. Tony perhaps, but never him. Glancing across at her suspiciously, he narrowly misses a lamppost, fortunate in that she'd grabbed his arm and steered him around it.

  “But I do like the sound of the personal service you offer, so what exactly does that entail?”

  Her eyes really are teasing him.

  “You still haven’t guessed, have you, Jay?”

  Looks at her quizzically as he ponders the question.

  “Hmmm. That this is some sort of a wind up? Not going to be some guy leap out with a camera any minute, is there? Find myself looking a complete arse on national TV?”

  “No, you idiot. Don’t you recognise me?”

  “Sorry, but no. Am not likely to forget a woman as beautiful as you, believe me.”

  Jason blushes furiously, immediately regretting the choice of words.

  “Compliment appreciatively accepted, kind Sir. But think back to 2007. I appreciate that it was over seven years ago and suppose I have changed, in fact no supposing about it, I do look very different. But do you remember a Saturday assistant at the library called Selena?”

  Racks his brains trying to remember, she’d have to ask him on a morning when his mind is still struggling to get into gear. But it does ring a bell.

  “Selena... Surely not Selena Trott? Where did Stella come from then?”

  "Wasn't going to make it easy for you, was I?." She giggles. “But you do remember me?”

  He turns and inspects her more closely.

  “Selena Trott. No way. You were, well…”

  “As skinny as a drainpipe and easily forgotten?”

  “No, that really isn’t what I meant, I swear, just that you are so... So hmm… Well grown up…”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment."

  Still smiling mischievously.

  “And you have certainly aged well, Jay. Always had a crush on you but don’t suppose you ever
noticed. But have never forgotten those dreamy blue eyes though and have got to say, that beard really suits you.”

  Can feel his face burning, now concerned that he must be doing a pretty good impression of a lobster. Lost for words, he can but smile at her.

  “Well, here we are Jay.”

  “Sorry?”

  “The hospital. Where I work, remember? So?”

  “So?”

  “For God sake. Look I am a great believer in fate and am sure it has brought us together for a reason Jay. And who are we to argue? So are you going to offer to buy me dinner one evening? Or Lunch? Tell me what you’ve been up to? I couldn't help but notice that you no longer wear a wedding ring, but a girlfriend perhaps?”