Scrap 72

SCRAP 72
So much for a quiet ride out in the countryside. Frank’s new clothes stink; he is scratched from the hedge and bruised from the fight with the ‘peaceful’ cows. He drives back to the camp with the windows wide open and the stereo playing loudly to distract him. His heart is thumping painfully and his brain is buzzing; he needs to calm down.
There is a queue to get in at the gate and the security guard gives Frank a distasteful look as he checks his pass and waves him through, tutting about people not bothering to wash. If only he knew why, he would not be so judgemental.
Frank is hurrying back to his chalet; he turns the corner and almost knocks Robbie off his bike as he comes screeching to a halt, breathless and with tears flying from his eyes. ‘Uncle Frank, come quick,’ he gasps between sobs, ‘Dad is killing Mum.’
Without hesitation Frank runs ahead of the frightened boy and reaches Scotty’s door, which Robbie has left wide open. He dashes inside and finds Dawn and Scotty getting dressed in the bedroom, big smiles on their faces. Scotty jumps up in surprise, ‘what are you doing here?’ Robbie creeps in behind the big man and peers out from behind his protecting bulk. He is relieved to find that his mother is not dead and puzzled to see that she seems quite alright. ‘You smell disgusting,’ adds Dawn, as if Frank hadn’t noticed, ‘what’s going on?’
Frank leaves them to explain to their youngest child that they were in fact merely copying the wrestlers and having a play fight. Robbie is just as confused but his mother assures him that she is alright and he perks up when Scotty gives him fifty pence to buy some sweets he grabs the coin and disappears. ‘I told you we should have locked the door,’ laughs Dawn.
After a shower and change of clothes, Frank is feeling much better. He strolls down to the Pig and Whistle to have a quiet drink but is soon surrounded by admirers, eager to be his new best friends. Ah well, at least he doesn’t have to pay for any of the drinks.
By the time Scotty finds his pal he is seated at the piano playing requests from fellow campers and clearly having a great time. He buys a beer and stands at the back of the audience enjoying the performance. Frank never ceases to amaze him; what the hell is he doing wasting his life driving a lorry for a living when he could be doing this?
After an hour playing through most of his repertoire twice, Frank announces the end of the performance. He spots Scotty and weaves his way through the crowd to find a table. He is sweating and red in the face as he sits, gasping for breath from the effort. Downing the pint of bitter Scotty has lined up for him, he relaxes into his chair and sighs, ‘I needed that.’
The crowd have got the message and leave him to chat with his pal. He tells Scotty what happened that morning, much to his horror. ‘I didn’t know cows could attack people,’ says Scotty, ‘I thought they were placid animals.’ Frank starts on his next pint, shakes his head and explains that they hate dogs, especially at certain times of the year. ‘People just don’t think,’ he says, ‘how would that woman like it if she had to give birth every year then have the baby taken off her so she could be milked with a vacuum pump twice a day?’ Scotty grimaces, ‘I don’t think anybody would even consider it.’ Frank continues, ‘that’s more or less what they do with cows though, isn’t it? Mind you, it doesn’t stop me drinking milk and eating cheese.’ Scotty has to agree; it’s a shame but that’s the way it is.
Frank is keen to change the subject. ‘They’re showing a John Wayne film tonight, are you going?’ Scotty laughs, ‘you must be joking. Dawn hates cowboy films; anyway she’s going to the bingo with her mother.’ Frank seems disappointed, ‘how about if we pay the girls to babysit and you and me go?’ Scotty considers for a moment then replies: ‘we can ask them, but we’d better not tell their mother.’
Fortunately for them, the girls are only too happy to oblige as their father hands over a bag filled with sweets and crisps to keep the kids quiet and promises them two quid each as long as there’s no bother.
As soon as the women have left for their evening out, Scotty slopes off to meet Frank, who is saving a place in the queue. He has brought a plentiful supply of snacks and drinks, which will go nicely with the flask of whisky in Scotty’s pocket. It’s nice to settle down anonymously in the dark and get lost in the Wild West, where any arguments can be settled by a gunfight showdown.