Scrap CH THREE part 26

Scrap CHAPTER THREE part 26
Confusingly, the curtains in the main bedroom do not fit even though Mavis carefully wrote down all the measurements as they were dictated. Dawn has had to fix them in the middle with a safety pin but this has not quite been successful and the early morning sunlight is sending a dagger of hot brightness across the room directly into her face. She checks the clock on the Teasmade, which has finally been fitted with a plug after months of waiting and sees that it is almost 8am. Throwing the covers back she hastily puts on her night dress and goes downstairs to her new kitchen where Heather and Janet are busy making tea and toast for the assembled children.
‘Morning mum, did you have a nice sleep?’ Janet hands her a mug of hot tea and she takes a seat at the new table. ‘Thanks pet, why didn’t someone wake me earlier? There’s loads to do today and Nan will be bringing the babies back about ten o’clock. Is that for me?’ She takes the toast which John has been smearing with margarine and bites into it. ‘You don’t have to spread so much on,’ she grimaces, ‘it costs money you know.’ John rolls his eyes upwards and starts on another slice, adding a good dollop of strawberry jam and taking a bite before anyone else can nab it. The rest of the crew join in with making and devouring their breakfast with the talk being mostly about how everyone slept in their new rooms and plans they each have for the day.
Dawn announces that she is going to be in the bathroom for the next ten minutes and scoots off to get ready for the day. The others take their time working their way through a whole loaf of bread and two jars of jam then miraculously disappear as soon as the girls’ backs are turned, leaving them to clear up.
The doorbell sounds, filling the hall with an electronic version of Westminster chimes. ‘Mum, it’s the man from the GPO come to put the phone in,’ Janet calls upstairs. ‘I’ve a bit to do out here first,’ says the telephone engineer, ‘so I’ll let you know when I’m ready to connect you up.’ Dawn didn’t even know they were having a phone installed and wonders how her husband can afford all these luxuries but the excitement of it outweighs that little niggle and she scurries about making space for the man to work. When he again rings the doorbell it is she who answers, ushering him inside. ‘Now then, where are we going to be?’ He asks, ‘in the hall or the lounge?’ Dawn can’t make up her mind in all the excitement but the engineer says that most people opt for the hall so they can have privacy so she agrees to that and leaves him to it.
The post man has arrived and delivers a ‘Welcome to your new home’ card from Mavis. She sets the card on the mantle shelf thinking how thoughtful it is of her mother to be the first to send them mail in their new home. Looking out the window she sees the woman herself walking towards the house and waves before rushing to open the door. ‘Thank you for the card,’ she says with a smile, ‘it just arrived.’ She helps Mavis lift the pram over the threshold and into the living room. ‘Have you seen what’s parked over the road?’ Asks the older woman, who is now busy with baby George. Dawn seems not to have heard and takes Charlie in her arms to show him the new living room. ‘We’re having a phone put in,’ she babbles, ‘he must have ordered it as a surprise.’ Mavis settles her charge on her lap; ‘you’ll get an even bigger surprise when you see what’s parked up over the road,’ she says.
‘I don’t believe it,’ hisses Dawn, ‘I thought we’d seen the last of that old wreck. I hope he’s not living in it right on our doorstep.’ She pulls back the net curtain to see if she can detect any signs of life coming from the old camper van. It still hasn’t been washed or tidied up like Fat Frank promised he was going to do and what’s it doing parked in front of that new bungalow anyway? Surely he hasn’t found another mug already who he can take advantage of?
The morning passes in a blur of activity and Dawn jumps as the telephone rings for the first time. She rushes to answer; reading the number from the paper insert on the dial only to find it is the engineer testing the line. Who else would it have been anyway with nobody knowing about it and few people having their own phone? ‘Of course you know that as soon as people see you’re on the phone they’ll be queuing up to use it?’ Mavis is always guaranteed to put a damper on the situation but Dawn is proud of the new acquisition, vowing that she will not be taken advantage of.
Frank’s car pulls up over the road and he waves as he gets out, seeing two sets of beady eyes peering from behind the net curtains. ‘He’s got a key, he’s going in,’ gasps Dawn, ‘would you credit it?’ Mavis shakes her head in disbelief, the obvious reason having dawned on her if not on her daughter. Scotty is not far behind and backs his old van onto the drive, looking up to check that the phone has been connected and smiling in satisfaction as he sees it has. He takes a large bunch of carnations from the passenger seat and breezes indoors to hand them over with a flourish. ‘I hope you like the surprise,’ he grins as he kisses his wife on the cheek and nods to his mother-in-law, ‘we are now officially connected to the twentieth century. Well, don’t I get a cup of tea at least?’ The women scurry off to the kitchen, leaving him to ease his aching feet from his dirty old boots and head for the bathroom. ‘I’ll bring it up,’ his wife calls after him, adding to her mother; ‘we have some things to discuss, me and Jim.’
Frank has brought a large box of fruit home from the market, which cost him a quid. He leaves it on the kitchen worktop, peels off his smelly clothes and boots, which lay discarded on the floor, has a quick wash at the sink and falls into bed. He is soon asleep and dreaming pleasant dreams which are rudely interrupted an hour later by the sound of someone banging their fist on the glass panel in the front door. He shouts something obscene but the noise continues and he drags his weary body from its nest, standing stark naked and blinking at the daylight. ‘What do you want; I only just got back from work.’ Jason follows him down the hall and into the kitchen where he finds himself holding a can of beer from the fridge and watching as Frank drains his in one go. ‘We have to go to the solicitors to sign some papers,’ says an apologetic Jay, ‘sorry Frank but it has to be done today. Is Jim at home only we need him as well? Rosa says she’ll meet us there in half an hour.’
Dawn is furious as Jim is bundled out the door before she has had a chance to give him a proper nagging and he is none too happy himself as he had been hoping for a better reception followed by a good kip, but business is business and if Jason says they have to sign some papers then they have to get on with it. By the time they reach the solicitor’s office the dishevelled pair are relatively awake. Rosa gives them a sour look as they wander in smelling as if they haven’t washed for days, which in Frank’s case is more or less true, but she says nothing about it and they are soon called in to the office of Mr Costing, who explains what they are signing and why, all of which goes straight over the heads of the two pals but Rosa and her brother nod wisely and seem to know exactly what is happening. Various sheaves of paperwork are passed round for each of them to sign, hands are shaken and the meeting is brought to a close.
Outside Scotty turns to Frank and asks quietly: ‘what the hell was all that about? I thought we’d signed everything we needed to sign back at Jay’s yard.’ Frank shrugs his shoulders, they get in to Jason’s truck and he tries to tell them in simple terms what has happened. ‘So you see, once the papers have been lodged at Companies House we are officially in business. Simple really, isn’t it?’ The other two are not thick but they still don’t have a complete grasp of events; if Jay and Rosa are satisfied then it must be okay. ‘Now, do I drop you off back home or do we go for a drink first?’
Silly question, and soon the three are seated in one of the quieter pubs where Rosa has already got a round in, knowing them only too well. They raise their glasses and clash them together in salute. ‘To CRS Transport Limited,’ they all say.
Unseen by the celebrating quartet Beanpole Brett cocks his head to one side the better to hear. It won’t be long before everyone knows.