Timeline: 0945, Friday 20th April :: Town Hall Stable Courtyard.
Ali and Tomas had spread the diagram of Wayne Fisher's layout plan on the bonnet of the truck and were in earnest discussion when Greg rejoined them.
“Everything OK guys?’” He asked chirpily, waving the keys to the stable on their pink ribbon around his finger. Ali’s eyes followed the key. He sniffled, as if with distaste and snapped.
“Looks OK, need to check inside.”
“Let’s go inside then.” They followed Greg as he walked across to the stable, unlocked the padlock and opened the heavy double doors. Tomas rushed across to help hook back one of the doors. Ali marched inside imperiously with his hands on his hips to look around and size up the space. Tomas joined Ali and together they walked around inspecting the space for a few moments before Greg asked.
“Well what do you think. Will it do?” Ali sniffled again, as if disinterested, before he looked upwards and said.
“Roof looks OK, place is dry.” He pointed to the faucet above the drain four feet beyond the garage doors. “That the only water supply and drain?”
Greg shrugged not immediately comprehending Ali’s reason for asking. “As far as I know it is, does it matter”? Ali sniffled once more and walked over to the drain.
“Maybe, depends on your final layout.”
His eyes rose to take in the old electricity fuse box above the water faucet and drains. He pointed at it, “That’ll need changing for an RCD. Is that the only source of power?”
Greg did not reply. Ali walked over to brush away the cobwebs and accumulated dust of years. He wrenched opened the fuse box to inspect its contents. Tomas had taken out a tape measure and was busy checking the dimensions of the space against Wayne’s diagram. Greg looked at his watch, worried about being on time for his meeting at the Bank.
“Look guys I hate to rush you, but I’ve got an appointment at the Bank in ten minutes …”
Ali cut him short and spun around to face him. “What do you want to know before you go?”
Greg shrugged. “ Well … simple really ... can you build the layout on that plan, in this space, over this weekend?”
“No problems Mr. Meechell, all we need is materials.” Tomas replied with a grin accompanied by a slightly obsequious bow.
Ali flicked his wrist across his body, as if throwing something out of the door and walked to face Greg.
“We can do it like Tomas said, just give us the gear and we can do it just like it is on the plan there, if that’s what you want?”
Ali sniffled again and stood waiting for a reply with what seemed a sneer on his face.
Greg sighed in exasperation, hoping this was not a resurgence of Ali’s earlier belligerence. He was in no mood for that and stifled the urge to tear into Ali and repeat his lecture in the truck about taking no more nonsense from the man, but kept his cool. He bit his lower lip and said. “Why wouldn’t I want it like that, Wayne’s an expert in his field?”
Ali’s impatience showed when he stamped his feet and raised the level of his voice. “ In making bio-diesel maybe. We are experts in making places to make it in. He’s not been here to see this place, has he?”
“No, he will be here later this afternoon. What are you getting at?”
“ We need to be sure the thing will work properly after we’ve built it. No glitches. We have our repeetations to think about.”
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The 'Cousins'
General FictionEnglishman Greg Mitchell has served only two Gods in his lifetime- Making Money and Himself. Now at 35 years of age and after his second divorce and loss of his business he faces a future with no family or friends- he does have some money in the ban...
