Mr Dibbs Fixes Bikes

27

Many cups of tea were made that afternoon, in scorching sunshine that made Alfie concerned for Benjamin's health. Several times he had said the lad had no need to finish it today and, knowing British weather, it was as likely to be raining the next. At least, that's what Benjamin said. He wore all the gear, too, taking no chances with his safety. Hard hat, harness and ties. The lad knew his business. He did sweat so, though, hence the constant refilling of liquids.

By the time Benjamin finished for the day, Alfie could already see the fruits of the lad's labour. Using his mobile phone, something he had never taken much regard for, he marvelled at the images that ran from his new cameras, out into the world and back again. Pictures as clear as glass. Once done, Alfie gave Benjamin a little extra, in appreciation of his efforts.

More than once, Alfie had caught Frederick peeking out of his window at the goings-on, the curtains falling back into place as the lad pretended he wasn't watching. Alfie wished the lad would stop playing silly beggars and talk, but he no doubt felt guilt for taking Alfie's things. He wanted to tell the lad everything was fine. The medal and handkerchief were only things and things were far less important than people.

He also wanted to know why the lad had taken them. Not to interrogate, but to understand. It wasn't as though Frederick could sell them. Not even the medal, which was only one that many people in the forces received. Alfie felt certain there was reason behind the theft, but not knowing that reason caused him more fretting than the theft itself. He refused to believe the lad had malicious intent.

With the best part of the day gone, Alfie busied himself preparing his evening meal. Not that it took much preparing. He had never taken to cooking and, even after all these years of living alone, he still couldn't make himself a good roast and Yorkshire puddings of a Sunday. The meal he missed the most. A simple meal that the Duchess excelled at. Then again, most of her meals were simple, but tasty.

He remembered those Sunday dinners, arriving home after spending the morning either fishing, or watching the rugby on the local playing fields. A quick wash and brush up and then out to the Working Men's club to spend time with his friends of old. Never thinking that the Duchess may have wanted to join him, or Charlie. It was his time. Then again, in hindsight, he knew he considered all the time 'his time'. He was not a good husband, or father.

Dinner, tonight, consisted of Shepherd's Pie. Frozen. Heated in the oven, not the microwave. Peas and carrots. Also frozen. These he did use the microwave for and he swore he could taste the difference, though that may be due to their frozen nature. Sitting at his table, staring out into the street, he sopped up the remainder with cheap sliced bread that tasted of nothing, not even with lashings of butter.

It was a far cry from the food that Ms Matheson, Esther, Frederick's mother, had made. That food had taste and spices that Alfie couldn't name if he tried. Filling, yet light. Since losing the Duchess, he had tried many things that she would never have considered making, though she had always wanted him to expand his tastes. Curries and kebabs, pizzas and salads. Nothing ever seemed to beat that old, very English, very Yorkshire kind of food the Duchess made, but, he had to admit, Ms Matheson's food was right grand.

Now, he ate alone once more. Ms Matheson busy with work that brought her home tired and dishevelled, forcing herself to make those final steps to her house where, no doubt, Frederick awaited her to feed him, as Alfie had awaited the Duchess to feed him. Never giving praise, never appreciating the efforts such undertakings required. The Duchess had never worked, but Alfie remembered that similar despondent look on her face that Ms Matheson wore upon returning home.

He couldn't help but wonder if he had contributed to Frederick taking those things. Had he not shown the lad enough attention? Had he said something amiss? Losing the Duchess had forced Alfie to reassess himself and had found himself wanting. A decision to change had come too late for her, but, he had hoped, he would not make the same mistakes again.