Scrap 68

SCRAP 68
The campers are in better mood as they file in for their breakfast. The sun is shining and they are all determined to make the most of it. For most it is the final day of their holiday and everyone is relieved to see the sunshine after five days of rain and high winds.
Frank has joined Scotty’s family and asks what they intend doing today. ‘We thought we might see what the beach is like,’ says Dawn, ‘Mum wants to get some shells to take home.’ The boys exchange gloomy looks. ‘Do we have to come?’ asks Robbie. ‘We can have much more fun with our bikes.’ Scotty overrules the women and so it is decided that the girls will go with their mother and grandmother to shop for souvenirs and help gather shells and Scotty will stay at the camp with Frank to enjoy a day of sunbathing and relaxing.
Nosey Nick Parsons has been making his way along the row of tables with an envelope in his hand. He explains that even though Pete doesn’t want a fuss, it is his birthday and Nick is making a collection to buy him a present. ‘What a lovely idea,’ says Mavis, fetching out her purse and dropping some coins into the envelope. ‘He’s such a nice young man, and so cheerful with everyone.’ Frank gives Scotty a wry look; they know exactly what happens regarding presents for the entertainments staff. This is probably the third or fourth birthday Pete has celebrated at the camp this year, but they see no harm in adding a few coins to the collection and Nosey Nick thanks them before moving on to the next table.
Once the coast is clear, the pals meet up and head for Frank’s car. The forced incarceration has been a little too similar to being in prison and they are going ‘stir crazy’. With the windows right down and Fats Domino belting out from the 8 track stereo the men escape from the confines of the camp and head inland; anywhere to get away for a while.
It’s a fine day for a drive and they travel along in happy mood, singing along to the tunes when they can remember the lyrics. ‘What are you going to do for the final?’ Asks Scotty, sensing that as Frank is in such a good mood it is the best opportunity to discuss the subject. ‘Sorry I dropped you in it like that. I didn’t think you’d mind, seeing as you have such a good voice.’ Frank is not keen to explain his objections and after all he has had time to consider the matter. Perhaps he has been over- reacting, after all he won’t be seeing any of these people again so what does it matter? However, he is keeping his choice of song to himself. ‘You’ll have to wait and see, won’t you?’
Scotty is looking out for a quiet hostelry, preferably with a garden so they can get a little sunshine while they enjoy a few drinks. They find what they are looking for in an out-of-the-way village, close the windows and park under the only tree in the car park. ‘This’ll do nicely,’ says Frank as they stretch their legs and head for the bar.
They order two pints of bitter, some crisps and peanuts and take them out to the garden, which is furnished with a few rickety benches and battered parasols. Stretching out in the sunshine, they remove their shirts and reposition the sturdiest looking bench so they can catch the rays. They have the place to themselves save for the birds hopping about and tweeting away. Very little traffic passes this way and they are enjoying the sounds of the countryside. ‘Wonder what we’re missing back home,’ muses Scotty. ‘Work,’ Frank replies, ‘and we have another week before we have to think about that again.’
They close their eyes and sit back in their seats, in this warm and peaceful English country garden. ‘This is the life,’ says Scotty. Frank’s answer is a loud snore; he has dozed off after another night being woken by drunken campers passing to and fro outside his door. Soon Scotty has joined him in the Land of Nod. Their half-finished drinks warm in the sun as opportunist birds investigate the open bags of crisps on the table, deciding that they are too salty after scattering them all over the floor.
The barmaid pops out to check on her only customers after an hour and finds them steadily reddening under the midday sun, flies collecting on their beer glasses. She is wondering whether or not to waken them when the church bells ring out with twelve loud crashing bongs, causing both men to jump back into the land of the living.
Groggy with sleep, they rub at their eyes and look around them. The barmaid asks if they are alright and they pick up their glasses, view the contents and say they had better have fresh ones. She takes the mucky glasses indoors and returns with fresh ones, placing them on the table. Frank pays her, they thank her and she smiles, leaving them to their beer.
‘You’re all red,’ says Frank, eyeing his pal. ‘You want to look at yourself,’ says Scotty. ‘You’re going to peel for sure.
The two cooked lobsters ease their shirts onto their tender skin and down their cold beer in seconds. ‘Think we’ll have another,’ says Frank, taking the glasses and returning to the bar. ‘I would have woken you,’ says the barmaid, ‘but I didn’t realise you had fallen asleep.’ Frank says not to worry and orders another two pints, which he takes out to the garden. He manages to get one of the parasols open, positioning it so it affords a little shade to their upper bodies. ‘We’re going to suffer for this later,’ moans Scotty. ‘Well we couldn’t meet the others for dinner later without showing signs of a tan.’