* * *
“First day any good then?” Al asked me, as we sat as we often did, on the old cricket pavilion in Kirk-Leigh.
“Shit mate,” I replied. “What about you?”
“Really good actually. What did you do all day to make yours shit?”
I laughed, “I didn’t really do anything, spent most of the day making coffee and putting letters into envelopes, after they’d sent me home to get changed that is. What did you do?”
“Not a lot, helped the kids painting, read some stories out of a book. That was it really.” Al shuffled back on the white wooden decking we were sat on, trying to catch the last rays of light from the setting sun. “They’re on breaks most of the time at that age, you forget what it’s like when you’re first at primary school.”
From what Al had told me before it sounded like a good school to go to, I was glad, it was the same school Jack would be starting in a few years time when he was old enough.
“Sounds a lot better than what I’m doing,” I said.
“I did tell you not to get something in an office mate, I knew you’d be bored. You’re like me, you don’t like being indoors.”
An old lady with a dog walked out of the farmer’s field, and onto the gravel track that led from the main road to the cricket field. I could only just make out her features in the failing light of dusk, she wouldn’t have seen us at all.
“I know Al, I just wanted to do something worthwhile for when I have to get a job.”
“We don’t even finish school for another year, then you’re gonna be in college for two years after that,” Al reminded me. “There’s still loads of time to worry about wearing a suit and sitting at a desk.”
He was right of course, it would be at least three more years before either of us got a job, I probably should have been making the most of the time in-between.
“So are you thinking of working in a school now Al? I thought you wanted to do building.”
“Nah mate, I still want to get into bricklaying, I’m still gonna do that two year course at the college. If I’d been able to get a labouring job for work experience I would have done, no one wanted me though cos I wouldn’t have been allowed on site.”
“See, that’s why I’m doing what I am, because it’s going to help me on my course,” I said.
“What, the business management course?”
“Yeah.”
“But you don’t want a job in business management. You’re not going to be able to work inside, you’d be better off being a bin man or something like that than working in an office.”
I laughed, “That’s the good thing about estate agency Al, you get to go off and meet people.”
“So where did you go today?”
“Nowhere mate, but I’m on work experience.”
“So you stayed there on your own while everyone else went out?”
“No they aren’t all going to run off and leave me in charge are they?” I quipped.
“So some of them stayed there to look after you?”
I tried to remember who had gone out and who hadn’t, it wasn’t hard. No one had gone out, not during the time I’d been there. Dave had spent most of the day with me, in fact they’d all been there all day, in that tiny office. At points I’d wanted to go outside so much it hurt, but aside from that once to post the letters and for lunch-time, I’d been stuck there with everybody else. If I was going to have to be stuck in some tiny space and not allowed out, I’d at least want to have a good reason. Like an astronaut on the International Space Station, floating in a metal box in the coldest silence, where numbers go on forever. At least then I’d have a reason for feeling like I couldn’t breathe properly.
“It’s still a long way off Al, we’ll see what happens.”
“It’s your life Lu, I’m not gonna tell you what to do, I just know you well enough to know that you won’t like being indoors all the time.”
He was right and I knew it, but I still didn’t know what I actually wanted to do. I only hoped I could work that out before school finished for good.
I did get taken out, just the once in those two weeks, to a property with no one living in it. I wrote down room sizes for Neil while he called out the measurements. I enjoyed that side of the job, but for me it was what I’d have wanted to do all the time, not be stuck at a desk all day.
Anyway, with work experience over the school year came to an end, allowing me back outside again. Ironically the one place I fitted in.
Stroking an Imaginary Beard
July 1998.
The arrival of the summer holidays meant Al and I could finally relax, and do the things we’d spent all year wanting to. Until a chance encounter at the shop, while stocking up on fizzy drinks and crisps in preparation for a day’s canoeing, changed everything.
“I’ll wait outside mate,” I told Al. I wasn’t interested in making idle chat with the pensioners while they queued for stamps and bingo pens.
A few minutes later he came back out of the shop. Searching through his carrier bag for an ice pole instead of looking where he was going, he barged into an elderly man on the way in, nearly knocking him over. He was a funny looking bloke, with features too well defined, almost like a cartoon caricature of himself. Grey hair crept down over his collar and there were wiry whiskers sprouting out from his wrinkled cheeks and chin at all sorts of random angles. I’d not seen him in the village before, I’d remember if I had.
“You Boy!” he barked, peering at Al from over the end of his big nose.
You’re for it now I thought, waiting for the usual barrage of anti youth drivel that accompanied pissing off old people. We normally got it when we overtook them on our bikes as they glacially shifted their way down the path. They would moan at us if we came within a hundred feet as we passed. Normally we’d only catch a word or two of what they had to say, ignoring them and carrying on. We couldn’t do that now though, Al was going to have to take what was coming to him. Would it be ‘In my day we had respect for our elders?’ Or maybe something like ‘I fought for you in the war?’ I hoped it would be something funny, I’d repeat it to Al for the rest of the day in the best impersonation I could; saying it over and over until he hated me. ‘That’s the problem with you youngsters today,’ I’d say stroking an imaginary beard while bent over at an aged angle, ‘You never look where you’re going,’ then I’d chase him down the backwaters on the canoe.
What came next was a surprise.
“Do you want a bit of work Boy? Earn some extra money helping me out?” He looked back and forth at us both, so was obviously aware there were two of us standing there.
Al and I made eye contact, each unsure how to react. “Umm, what sort of work mate?” Al queried.
I wondered if he should have stuck a Sir on the end of his question rather than mate given the immense age of the man, but the old bloke didn’t seem to be offended in the slightest at the over familiarity.
“Ten pounds a day Boy,” he continued. “Hard honest work, it’ll do you good.”
What we could each do with ten pounds a day! Imagine if we could earn ten pounds a day, every day over the whole summer, we’d have a fortune! Provided that was each and not between us, I didn’t want to be rude and ask though so we’d have to take a gamble. On second thoughts, we’d need a few days off, we’d want to spend some of our earnings on having a bit of enjoyment.... “Yeah sure mate. Sounds great!” Al interrupted my daydreams of fun and fortune.
“Uh, yeah, that would be great....er....Sir,” I said, trying to show him a bit of respect, no way did I want him to change his mind.
“Righty ho Boy, be at mine tomorrow, nine am sharp mind, I don’t tolerate idleness. By the way what are your names?”
“I’m Luke,” I replied. “And this is Al.”
“My name is Thomas Shipman,” the old man replied.
“Tom?” Al asked.
“You can call me Tom if you want,” he said, “but everyone else calls me Ship.”
Al took mental notes regarding directions and we walked back to mine in the blinding glare of the summer sun, feeling a bit dazed. Ten quid a day, what a result! I still had no idea what we’d be doing though.
Church Group Page 7