Mr Dibbs Fixes Bikes

36

It wasn't a happily ever after ending, but it was a happy for the moment one. Of course the coppers didn't even bother to apologise and they wouldn't the next time they had reason to stop and search him, or to question him in relation to something, or just because they had nothing better to do and targets didn't meet themselves. It was a pause, like all the other pauses, but, this time, Frederick allowed himself a little sigh of relief.

Even had Micky not lied and said he had witnessed Frederick, he would still have been the first one they turned to. The first, and probably only, one to come under suspicion, because that was all they needed. Suspicion. As long as they suspected Frederick of wrongdoing, they could barge their way into Mum's house and make searches as often as they wanted, or to question him for as long as they were allowed to.

Just this once, though, Frederick felt a little thrill of triumph and a swell of love for that old man that he and Mum had happened to have moved next door to. He only wished he could have seen the Old Bill's face as Mister Dibbs had shown those videos. He doubted he would have managed to contain himself in that moment, though, and would have ended up drawing more attention to himself. Mister Dibbs had done enough.

"Do you think you'll rebuild it?" He stood beside Mister Dibbs, looking at the burned shell of the big shed, fire long since quenched. "I think you should rebuild it. That's if you've got the money. Are these sheds expensive? It didn't look expensive. Not that it looked bad!"

The old man gave a tut that sounded on the border of a laugh, but said no more than that. Supporting himself, heavily, on his walking stick, Mister Dibbs stepped toward the remains of the shed. Breathing so bad that Frederick could hear the breaths rattle in his chest, the old man leaned down, trying to lift some of the debris out of the way before Frederick could move.

When he did react, he lifted the fallen roof panel, flicking it to the side to reveal the frame of a bicycle. The Hanson Lightning. Frederick recognised it even though the frame had become twisted and bent by the heat. The paint had all burned away and rust had already started to form on the surface of the exposed metal, after the fire service had plastered gallons of water over the shed to quiet the flames.

The fire had ruined the bicycle, his bicycle. No sign of the tires, burned away. Likewise the seat and the handlebar grips. The brake cables had strings of plastic, caught in time, dripping from the metal wires. It was gone. The bicycle that he and Mister Dibbs had found and Mister Dibbs had fixed up as good as new. The bicycle that Frederick had only ridden once, but it was worth it. It was a lovely old bicycle. They all were. Now they were nothing but metal, scoured by flames.

"I reckon I'd be better off turning this into a veg patch. According to them doctors, I'm supposed to eat healthy from now on." The old man turned and winked. "Leastways until I get this old ticker fixed up, then I shall be having a nice bag of fish and chips, slathered with salt and pickling vinegar. Loads of scraps, too. Ee! Now I've gone and made myself hungry."

He winked again and laughed, though not with any real gusto, as though even a laugh could set off another heart attack. Despite what had happened, it would still be a good few months until Mister Dibbs could have his surgery, if not longer, so now they had to manage the condition he was in and Frederick knew well that wouldn't stand with Mister Dibbs. He didn't like to make a fuss.

Frederick glanced at the time on his phone and then looked over his shoulder toward the windows of his own house, next door. Mister Dibbs wasn't the only one that didn't want to make a fuss. His mum had much the same attitude. She had made that call, eventually, and Frederick had no idea whether things were going well or not. It wasn't something Mum liked to talk about, but Frederick had seen some difference. She took pills, now, and, when she did, it made her sleep the entire night through. That was good. Better than her sitting up half the night staring at nothing in the dark.