Sid's Teashop

“It’s a quiet life,” Harry remarked. “Thank God.”

“You’re right there,” said Bob, the chemist.

Dave, the carpenter, said, “You’re an old-fashioned lot. What’s wrong with a bit of fun now and again?”

The taxi driver and the chemist both looked at him silently. Jimmy said, “You don’t earn your living on the street, Dave. We can do without too much of other people’s fun.”

“They’re right, Dave,” said Sid.

Dave looked from face to face, and shrugged. “Ok, Ok. I shouldn’t have stuck my head in that hole.” To change the conversation, he said to Sid, “Do you still want me to look into that special project for you?”

“Er, maybe,” Sid replied, glancing quickly at Jimmy.

Jimmy picked up his pie and bit into it, savouring the flavour of its warm pastry and minty fresh peas.

Dave pressed on. “Well, do you or don’t you?”

“I’m still thinking about it, Dave.”

“Sometimes you have to act, Sid,” said Dave. “God gives food to the birds, but he doesn’t throw it into their nests.”

“I didn’t know you were religious, Dave,” Jimmy said.

Dave looked at him. “I think Sid would appreciate your opinion, Jimmy.”

Jimmy laughed. “You’re a pushy one, Dave.”

At these words, the teashop patrons shifted nervously in their seats. Sid looked down at his little table, and busied himself with his food and crockery.

Jimmy finished his pie, and washed the remains down with a final sip of tea. He held his glass up in the air and looked at Sid. “Another one, thanks?”

Sid nodded, and bending down to his son, who squatted below the counter on a piece of wood, he murmured and gestured at Jimmy.

Everyone waited as a second cup of tea was brought out, and everyone waited while Jimmy lifted it to his lips and took a sip. He put the glass down, and leant back a little, his head brushing against the flimsy wall of the teashop.

Beyond the crude door, figures bustled past: people out buying provisions, men carrying heavy loads, wandering children.

Jimmy looked up and watched the kerosene lamp above them for a moment. “I think,” he said, “that electricity could make all the difference to you, Sid.”

Sid grinned; Dave smiled. The chemist and the taxi driver nodded, looking serious.

“I’ll start the arrangements,” Dave said to Sid. “And I’ll have a last cup as well, thanks.”

Again, Sid summoned his son. Dave wrapped both hands around his glass of tea, warming his hands with it as Jimmy did, staring down into the hot liquid. Then he looked up at Jimmy, “You’ll, er, clear the way?” he asked.

Jimmy nodded. “Come and see me tomorrow about the details.”

Dave winked, and tapped the side of his nose significantly.

“Dave,” said Bob the chemist, “if you’re supposed to be a carpenter, how is it you can do this electrical stuff for Sid?”

“Well,” Dave replied, “I’m actually a carpenter cum electrician, you see.”

Sid added, “cum plumber, cum gas fitter as well”.

Everyone laughed companionably. Dave looked happy to be in the joke.