by John Willans
Michael. That’s the idea. Now we need to get summat for a wad. Can you, run upstairs and have a look in the cabinet in the bathroom. You should find some cotton wool balls that your grandma uses with her make-up. They’ll do. I’ll have a look in me shed for a garden cane to ram it home.’
Michael returned carrying a paper bag with ‘‘Boots the Chemist’’ written on it. ‘Is this it, Granddad.’
‘Aye that’s it. Pull off a lump and put it in here. Now ram it to the bottom with this bamboo. Gently! Don’t shove the cane through the wad or we’ll get ‘’blow past’’.’
‘What are we going to fire then, granddad.’
‘Have a bit of patience. I’m just coming to that. Go into the sitting room. In the left hand top draw of the sideboard, you’ll find a paper bag. The test projectiles are in there.’
‘There’s a lot of running about, Granddad. I hope that you were better prepared than this when you were in the Army. Did the enemy die of boredom?
‘Oi, less of your lip and get a shift on. We’ll cop it if you’re still faffing about when your grandma gets back.’
‘Shall I take the cat in with me? She’s sat on the dustbin back there. She might be scared if there’s a bang.’
‘Don’t worry about her. She’s deaf. Nivver comes when you call her.’
Michael shouted from the sitting room. ‘All I can find is this bag of mint imperials, Granddad.’
Arnold shouted back. ‘Aye that’s them. Bring them out here.’
Michael returned with the mints, laughing.
‘Eh! What’s up with you? Let me tell you. In the wrong hands – in this case ours – mint imperials are lethal! Pop a few in while I hold her steady. Five should be enough. Now, stuff a bit more wad on top to stop the little beggars rolling out again...Ready? I’ll hold her down and you light the fuse. Look here’s a box of Swans.’
‘Ok, but where’s the fuse, Granddad.’
‘Oh yes. There’ll be a little hole just here somewhere at the brush end. I can’t see it without me specks. Get one of them sparklers and shove it in.’
‘I can’t see no little hole.’
‘For goodness sake, open your eyes! It might be round the sides somewhere. Oh, may be we’ve dropped a cod and put the brush on the wrong end.’
Michael clapped his hand to his forehead. ‘Yes, see, it’s here! That’s no good is it? Oh no! Do we have to start all over again then?’
‘No! Course not! Improvise, adopt and improve, Michael. Now who’s motto is that, apart from ours o’course?’
Michael shrugged. ‘Isn’t it the Round Table’s? But all they seem to be any good at is getting pissed! How’s that relevant?’
Arnold held out his hand. ‘Pass me the hammer and find a thin nail. I’ll punch a new hole at this end... Good! Now shove that little sparkler in...Don’t stand in front of her you daft bugger! Come and stand here by me. Right light up then’
Michael struck the match and lit the end of the fuse. The fizz burned a couple of inches and then stopped.
‘Try lighting it again, Michael. I think it’s gone out.’
It stopped a second time with only a quarter of an inch of sparkler showing outside the little hole.
‘Bugger! Try and light it again but be...’
BANG! The gun fired.
Arnold heard the tinkle of glass as the target shattered. He couldn’t see Michael who had disappeared in a swirl of acrid blue smoke. The yard brush head flew of the back of gun. He heard the clang as it struck the dustbin and the ‘’miaooww!’’ of the startled cat as she ran off.
Arnold bellowed at the top of his voice. ‘Look at that Michael! A complete success! Four of the six bottles blown to smithereens with one shot! What do you think of that then?’
Michael rubbed his ear. ‘What! I can see your lips moving, granddad, but I can’t hear a thing. My ears are ringing.’
Arnold put his little finger in his left ear and waggled it. ‘You’ll have to speak up, Michael. I can’t hear you for the ringing in my ears. I said that was a good shot wasn’t it?’
Michael cupped his hands around his mouth. ‘I say granddad, that went well didn’t it. I don’t think the cat was too impressed though.’
Arnold shouted into Michael’s right ear. ‘What happened to the cat, Michael? Did you see where she went? I don’t think she’s deaf after all. Well not until now that is.’
As the smoke drifted away, Arnold saw Michael run towards the mangle still rubbing his ears. ‘All the glass from them bottles has ended up in the dolly tub, Granddad. What are we going to do about these tiny shards of mint stuck in Grandma’s mangle? Eh and look here! There’s quite a bit of damage to the masonry on the back wall. There’s a lot a clearing up to do, Granddad.’
‘Aye that’s the nature of warfare and guns, Michael. Alus makes hell of a mess. We don’t need to worry too much about your grandma’s mangle. She don’t need it now. I bought a new second hand top loader for her last birthday. I’ll soon have it fettled and running. Now, help me get a tarpaulin out of the shed and we’ll chuck it over the lot for now.’
Michael examined the kitchen stool. ‘There’s a nasty scorch mark here. Careful Granddad! That barrels still hot!’
‘Don’t panic, Michael. Tell you what, you nip inside and pop the kettle on. Leave this to me. I’ll be in, in a minute.’
Arnold tucked both the stool and the gun under the tarpaulin. Then, he went into the kitchen to join his grandson drinking tea and eating scones to celebrate their success.
Enid returned from her bingo and came into the kitchen carrying the cat. ‘What’ve these daft ha’p’orths been doing to you, Tiddles? What’s upset her, Arnold? She shot passed me just now and ran straight onto the number 5 bus. It took three on us to get her off again.’
Enid sniffed. ‘What’s that terrible smell? It’s sickly like roasting mints or summat.’
She put the cat on her cushion, ran to the kitchen window and peered out into the yard. ‘Arnold there’s smoke puthering out from under that tarpaulin. Whatever you’ve been up to, go and sort it out. Now!’
Arnold grabbed a bucket from under the sink then stumbled and clanged through the door into the yard. He filled the bucket at the outside tap, flung back the smouldering tarpaulin and hurled water on the hot gun and the glowing kitchen stool. Further combustion subsided in a hiss of steam.
He returned to the silent kitchen with a subdued spirit and a sense of foreboding. He sat down at the kitchen table opposite Michael. The cat ran into the sitting room.
‘Who won the draughts then?’ Enid asked.
At first, neither Arnold nor Michael replied then both said simultaneously. ‘I did.’
Enid frowned. ‘University Challenge wasn’t on tonight was it? So, what’ve you been doing then? Nowt useful like fixing my top loader I suppose.’
‘We’ve been disposing of them old fireworks, love.’ Arnold said.
‘While eating mints?’ Enid added.
‘Why. Errr. Hmm!’ Arnold said.
‘And you dressed up as Father Christmas with Michael as Black and White Minstrel I suppose!’
‘Eh?’ Arnold said.
‘Arnold, you’ve got cotton wool in your eyebrows and hanging round your chops, and look at Michael’s face! It’s as black as the ace of spades!’
‘Aye, well, Err, you see love,’ Arnold said.
Enid held up a hand and then folded her arms. ‘Michael, you’d better go and have a quick swill while I talk with your Granddad.’
Michael shot upstairs.
‘Well?’ Enid said.
‘Er, um, we made a bit of a bang that’s what scared Tiddles. I should have put her inside I suppose.’ Arnold said.
‘And the kitchen stool?’
‘What?’
‘Where is it?’
‘Oh Err it got a bit scorched from a Catherine Wheel. I’m giving it a rub down and a lick of paint.’
‘Oh yes, We’ll see about that,’ Enid said.
&n
bsp; Arnold waited expecting Enid to say more.
Just then, Michael reappeared.
‘Thanks for the tea and scones Grandma. I’ll see you soon Granddad.’
‘Give our love to your mam,’ Enid said.
Arnold felt abandoned. ‘Aye well, bye then,’
Michael went out through the kitchen.
Enid slipped off her coat and hung it on the back of the kitchen door. She poured herself a cup of tea and reached for a plate from the cupboard above the sink. She sat down at the kitchen table opposite Arnold. She took a scone, spread on butter and then smeared it with honey. She took a bite and then a sip of tea. She chewed then had more of her tea.
Finally she stared at Arnold. ‘I told you there would be trouble if I came home to a mess; didn’t I and you’ve made a mess haven’t you?’
‘Err. Well. Hmmm. Err,’ Arnold said.
‘Now you don’t really want trouble do you Arnold?’
‘Err. Well. No love.’
‘Can you remember then, at the end of a war what happens when one side gives in?’
Arnold was puzzled. ‘Yes, love. You mean the losers surrender.’
‘Aye that’s it the losers surrender and they give summat to the winners don’t they?’
‘Reparations you mean?’
‘Yes! Reparations. Well now you’re surrendering to me and I want me reparations.’
Arnold was puzzled. ‘How do you mean love?’
‘Well, do you remember our honeymoon, Arnold?’
‘Ooo yes I do my love. We had a lovely weekend in Bridlington didn’t we? ’
‘Well, would you believe it? I’ve won first prize at the bingo, a romantic weekend for two in Brid. So you’d like to come with me wouldn’t you?’
Arnold hesitated and stood up. ‘I can’t think of owt