A half closed door is better than a half opened one; you know where you stand
Ted’s ‘other half’ opened the door and Charlie cringed. Margaret was a women best avoided especially in the morning. She was a woman who felt life had dealt her more than her fair share of blows and any man, even Charlie was ‘the enemy’.
‘Ted;’ she yelled ‘TED !!! None of your cold crap; get out of bed and get to work.’
She glared at Charlie with flared nostril breathing.
‘See that wife of yours’ she said, using her cigarette as a full stop ‘all that ‘pull yourself together’ crap; ever tried to pull yourself together on 50p and five fags? She took Ted’s pills off him. SHE; says hard work and vegetables is what he needs. Bollocks to that! Ever tried to feed a drunk spinach?
Charlie watched her suck the life out her roll up; ‘no’ he said.
‘And then; she gave me these!’
Margaret thrust a bottle of pills into Charlie’s face; he looked at her thick fingers wrapped around the familiar label and his heart sunk. Janice under the influence of Daisy; had gone all green; balancing moods with teas and funny smelling tablets. That bottle of pills had been thrust in his face more times than Ted’s ‘colds’. Charlie sighed and took the pills; it wasn’t easy being married to Janice a tactless physiologist with ‘new age’ tendencies; especially in a small town where half of those on benefits had at some time been under her care.
‘I’m no menopausal!’ she yelled. ‘So she can stick ‘em up her arse.’
Charlie walked back to the van tossing Janice’s pills in a nearby bin; Hector was sitting in the passenger seat with his arm swinging out of the window. He smiled at Charlie.
‘Another ten minutes then?’
Charlie threw Hector a “what do you think?” look and jumped into the van.
Hector also helped Charlie with his gardening although sometimes he dreamed of cleaning (he just LOVED the feel of shammy leather).
‘Want a crisp gov?’ said Hector who had a passion for “The Bill” and ‘Frost‘.
Charlie mustered a smile, and slid on his Smiths CD.
‘There’s a penguin in my bag, you can have that if you like.’
‘What I need,’ said Charlie with a “nothing against you” look ‘is something better.’
‘Let’s clean windows we can DO IT?’ said Hector. ‘You could do the inside and I could do the out.’
Charlie looked at Hector pouring the last of his crisps into his mouth. Hector was the sort of man whose idea of fun was to walk his bike around the town yelling ‘yowl’ to anyone he half knew. How could he understand what Charlie wanted?
‘You still want be a writer then’ said Hector?
I’d give anything to have my face on the back of a paper back.
‘Something for TV?’ said Hector; taking a non reply as yes, he beamed, ‘You could get me to met nice man Jack Frost?’
Charlie looked his reflection in the revision mirror, ‘I want to make folk think; elevate them with humour
Be on desert island disc talk about The Smiths and how they inspire me… pull …maybe a DJ…
‘Oh.’ said Hector, now rummaging for his penguin. ‘Janice says you should stick to weed killer.’
‘Janice’ said Charlie wrenching the van into first.’ Says a lot of things; he looked at Hector as the car stalled. ‘Do you know what she said to me the other day...’ Hector shook his head and mindfully swallowed his crisps. ‘She said I was as funny as a funeral director with piles.’
Hector looked at his penguin and then handed it to Charlie. 'Everyone is funny sometimes,’ he said, ‘even you’.
****
That afternoon Charlie took a break to do the ‘timesheets’ He jumped into the driver’s seat of the van poured himself a coffee from his flask and pulled out his note book.
'Whotcha up to gov’ said Hector climbing into the passenger side of the van with a jolt.
‘Nothing,’ said Charlie putting his hand over his note book. He flashed a smile at Hector. ‘How are you and Ted getting on?’
‘Ted’s having a smoke,’ said Hector. ‘So I’m having some juice.’
Charlie looked across at Ted sprawled out on the grass like an old dog basking in the sun. He was the sort of bloke that always had a roll up about either glued to his lower lip or rolling between his finger and thumbs in the process of being made.
A rollup was as much a part of Ted as his greying stubble.
Charlie watched his thin face squint in the sun as he flicked some ash onto his jeans and rubbed it in. He looked older than forty and deceptively interesting. And Charlie not for the first time wondered why he put up with him.
****
‘What you writing,’ said Hector ‘something for Mr Frost?’
‘It’s not for TV,’ said Charlie. ‘It’s a pantomime’.
‘Oh’ said Hector.
‘For the drama group.’
Hector nodded.
‘Janice’s idea.’
Beauty and the sodding Beast and I haven’t written a thing. Not unless you count Maggie and her leathered up friends…
Hector looked at Charlie’s notes.
‘Whose Dick then,’ Hector voice boomed across the car park. And dildo? I thought they where extinct’
Charlie slammed his notebook shut.
‘Charlie’s doing some writing,’ yelled Hector to Ted. ‘It’s about a guy called Dick!’
‘Dick huh,’ said Ted strolling up to the car.
Charlie slid his notebook under the seat the last person he wanted to see his work was Ted. He had a mouth bigger than Hectors appetite and the ability to distort the truth on a par with Janice’s ability to rub locals up the wrong way..
‘So what’s Dick get up to then?’ said Ted lounging against the side of the van.
‘Nothing there is no Dick; I’m trying to write a pantomime,’ said Charlie.
‘Yeah,’ said Ted ‘isn’t a panto supposed to be funny?’
‘Charlie can be funny some times’ said Hector.
Ted let out an “Aye right” chuckle along with a trail of smoke. ‘Panto?’ he said, ‘you should come round my place sometime that’s a real laugh. Alls herself talks about is what she wants to do to your missus’
‘Well’ said Charlie, ‘I’m getting nowhere fast, can't seem to make one joke’.
Ted flicked his roll up stub across the lawn. ‘You need Archie’s help he used to act! The drama club tried to rope him in once to play the dame…’
‘Legs to die for,’ said Hector with a spray of biscuit.
‘But he’d have none of it’ continued Ted, ‘ole Archie called them a bunch of wankers who …’
‘And he dances like a dream’ said Hector.
Ted eyed Hector pasty face. The only part of his body that was chubby was his cheeks. But it didn’t stop him from buying extra large from the Red Cross shop which he then held together with an elaborate belt. He had the waist of a wasp and the colour coordination of an Australian parrot. Hector’s love of orange, purple and florescent lit up the grey streets of Lochgilphead better than any Christmas tree. And his love of belts was the talk of the Red Cross. Whenever a new belt befitting Hector’s elaborate taste came in the ‘postie’ was sent to Hector home with a ‘it won’t be here for long’ message.
Ted looked at Hectors orange trouser tucked into army boots. ‘You should be in the panto you’d make a great ugly sister.’
‘You think?’
'Yeah you've got what it takes.’
Hector taking this to be a nice thing to be told smiled.
‘Wish I could get out of it,’ muttered Charlie.
Ted sucked his breath through his thin lips he could smell a session.
‘I’ll take you to Archie’s if you like; after a few whiskies he’ll practically write your panto for you.’ Ted smiled, ‘we’ll make a night of it!’
****