Mr Dibbs Fixes Bikes

29

"I think he needs to tell you himself. I promise you, he'll be punished for this. I don't know how, but he will learn his lesson. Unless you want to ..." Esther shook her head, pushing Frederick forward. "Anyway. Frederick?"

"I'm sorry." His eyes lifted for a split second before dipping again and he held up the two packages. "I just thought you'd like it."

"And?" Another, light, push from Frederick's mother to her son. "Go on."

"And I hope you can forgive me." Frederick's hands shook, causing the wrapping paper on the packages to rustle. "And happy birthday."

Alfie felt only a great sorrow that Frederick felt so ashamed that he trembled in fear. Never in his life had Alfie ever wanted to scare anyone. Yet, here was a mere strip of a lad shaking in his boots more than Alfie had seen when the police had visited him. Hesitant, he reached out, taking the packages from the lad, old fingers testing what lay inside. Frames, if he were to judge.

He placed one package on the nearby table, beside his disliked mobile phone, and turned the other over, slipping a gnarled finger beneath the badly taped flap and proceeded to open it, taking care not to rip the paper. Once unfolded, he lay the wrapping paper aside and turned the frame over in his fingers before gasping.

He recognised the wood and he guessed the glass came from his little shed, too, but it was the contents of the frame that had caught his breath. Charlie's medal. Not one for bravery, or for performing duties above and beyond, but for the mere act of being in the right place at the right time. Or, more accurate for how Alfie felt, in the wrong place at the wrong time. Pinned to a black, velvet-like background, the medal looked as though someone, Frederick, had taken great care to frame it.

In silence, he placed it to the side and had a fair idea what lay in the next package. His hand moved, without thinking, to his pocket, but he stopped himself, picking up the second package and repeating his earlier actions, releasing the tape and unfolding the paper to place atop the other sheet.

For this frame, he took his time, passing his grease discoloured fingers across the back, checking the quality of the joints and the wood. The lad had done a fine job and showed a talent for the work that Alfie never knew the lad had. Good, quality, workmanship, but Alfie knew he only appraised the work to delay turning the frame over. With a shallow intake of breath, he began to flip the frame over to see what it contained.

The handkerchief. The letters, 'A' and 'D', in plain sight. Washed and ironed and folded into a little square. Attached by the tiniest pins to the black velvet background. The lad had taken a lot of care creating this. A lot of care, even though he had no true idea of the significance. How could he. He had only seen him use the handkerchief and Alfie had never told anyone the significance of it. He wasn't certain he ever would, or could.

"Ee. That's grand." He touched the glass where he could see the embroidery. "That's rayt grand."

"I don't know why I took them, Mister Dibbs. I don't! I just thought ... I just ..." Now the lad looked up, with tears in his eyes. "I thought I could make something nice for you because it was obvious they were important and Mum always says important things need caring for, so I just took them and I didn't think. I'm so sorry!"

Alfie almost toppled over as the lad fell upon him, wrapping his arms around Alfie's waist and sobbing into his chest. At first, Alfie wasn't certain what to do, arms raised to not touch Frederick, but Esther gave a sad smile, nodding, as she took the framed handkerchief from his hand. Alfie hugged Frederick back, shushing the lad's tears and feeling tears of his own pricking at his eyes.

"Hey. Hey. Thy's alright, lad. Thy's alright. Don't thee bother none about it." He brushed his hand over Frederick's tight curls, hearing the sobs continue. "I thought it'd be something like this. Thy's done nowt wrong, lad. Nowt wrong."

"You knew?" Hiccuping words came from the lad as he lifted his head to look up to Alfie. "I thought you'd found out what I did, but you knew why?"

"Hoped. Thy's a good lad. I reckoned you had a reason. Hoped you had a reason." Alfie smiled down into Frederick's race, rubbing the tears from his plump cheeks with his aged thumb. "And 'hope' is as good as 'know' when it's proved right."

The sobbing and tears subsided to snuffles and sniffs and Frederick wiping his nose with the sleeve of his hoody. They parted and Frederick turned to his mum, pressing his head against her chest. Before Esther could begin to hold out the envelope and package that she held, Alfie heard the unmistakeable sound of the post coming through the letterbox.

With his new glasses in the old frames, Alfie could even see from here the mark upon the letter at the top as they came to rest upon the doormat. NHS. And the only reason he could think of to receive any letters from them were for surveys, which this looked too small for, or for more dire news.