Mr Dibbs Fixes Bikes

21

Alfie could do nothing but fret about the filthy words that had adorned the pavement outside his and Frederick's homes. Later, at night, after saving his tea bags and leaving them to steep in water, he had painted that thick, staining liquid over the paving stones and allowed it to dry. Another method he had learned, long ago, to artificially age things. Still, it didn't make him rest easy.

Two nights he had remained awake, sat at his table in the dark, watching the street during the night. He wasn't as daft as he looked. He knew that the town had its fair share of nasty people, though he had only rarely experienced it himself. Too old to start arguing and making accusations, instead, he waited and watched, growing more tired and irritated by the day.

The home security system had arrived, but Benjamin, the lad from a few doors down, couldn't fix it up for a few days and it sat there, still in the boxes, doing nothing and watching less. He had opened the boxes, looked through the contents, read the instructions with his unfocussed glasses, and couldn't make head nor tail of it. And so he waited, through the night, hoping to catch the culprit should they try again.

Frederick hadn't visited for those days, either, and Alfie couldn't blame him. He had seen the state of the lad's mother and recognised the signs. A sadness that overwhelmed her, with no light for her to make her way back to happiness. A terrible state of weary despair that could start for no reason, at an moment, and end as fast and for as much reason. The lass had no more control over those feelings as someone struck to their bed, unable to move or speak.

The lad did his best, Alfie didn't doubt, but it was a thing for the lass and her doctors to deal with. Alfie remembered the feelings of helplessness and hopelessness seeing someone suffer so. Though he, in his younger days, had not the foresight, nor the selflessness to do what he should have done. He was never there, choosing to hide away from it at every opportunity. To disappear to the Working Men's club and drink away the nights among people that could laugh and see the fun in things.

He had learned, far, far too late, that he had contributed as much to the Duchess' sadness as the sadness itself and he never had the chance to make things right. A late realisation of his stupidity and selfishness. At least the lad had better wisdom than himself on that front. Alfie only hoped that Frederick never had to suffer the worst that that sadness could bring.

The bicycle had sat untouched for the past couple of days, too. Long, silent nights had drawn Alfie to the edge of exhaustion and he couldn't face it, though his contacts had come through with a couple of the parts he needed, they sat in the little shed, unopened, as Alfie continued to worry about the safety and wellbeing of his neighbours.

Neither had he spent much time outside. No fishing. Only passing a single hour at the allotment, where Deano had come to ask about the lad and finding Alfie asleep in his deckchair. Deano had wanted to introduce his girl to Frederick, asking when he would come to the allotment again, but Alfie couldn't answer for the lad. Frederick had other things on his mind. Important things.

He squinted at the dial of the clock on the mantlepiece and couldn't make out the time. Tired eyes, old eyes, watering as he rubbed them. Two in the morning. Alfie hadn't even noticed the time passing. No tv to flicker its mesmerising light in the background, through worry it would cause miscreants to scurry away rather than allow Alfie to catch them. No radio to whisper ancient songs to him through the night. A turgid, claustrophobic silence his only companion.

Years ago, maybe less, he could have asked friends to sit with him through nights like this. Community coming together to push back against a tide of boorish behaviour decried for so long in his youth. Oh, kids were kids, and many an adult made fools of themselves, but an unspoken pact held them together, back then. A sense that what was done to one affected them all. Alfie didn't feel that anymore.