Scrap CH TWO part 13

CH TWO 13
Sunday mornings are special, the only mornings when Scotty is sure to wake up in his own bed after a night out with the lads and he treasures them. Today he is shaken to life by a small boy, who excitedly reminds him that he has promised to fix the buckled wheel on his tricycle. After several minutes patiently waiting for his dad to down a cup of tea, Robbie, who has been up and dressed for hours, manages to coax the reluctant Scotty out of his cosy pit. ‘Blimey Rob, it’s not even eight o’clock; they don’t open until nine on a Sunday.’ Scotty digs in the cupboards and selects a collection of tatty clothes which he pulls on, yawning loudly as he goes. He never expects to get a lie-in and is never disappointed.
‘Morning all,’ he greets his family, as they are gathered at the kitchen table eating their Sunday fry-ups, a once a week treat they all enjoy. ‘Morning,’ they chime back, mostly without looking at the provider of these luxuries. ‘Sit yourself down and I’ll get yours started,’ says Mavis, who has all but moved in since Christmas when Dawn had a ‘scare’ with the babies. He does as he is told, Janet hands him a crumpled copy of the News of the World which has already passed through several hands, and he turns to the back pages to see how his football team fared the day before. Robbie finds it most amusing that he is an Arsenal fan as it gives him a valid reason to slip the word ‘arse’ into any conversation about football.
Scotty and his boy are waiting outside the corrugated metal gates when Jason arrives to open up. ‘You’re keen,’ he grins, ‘must be something important.’ Robbie says they need a new wheel and tyre for his tricycle and Jason winks at Scotty as they follow him into the yard. ‘So that’s what your dad told you is it?’ Robbie frowns at his father, ‘That’s what you told me,’ he says. Jason opens up the barn and brings out an almost new Raleigh Grifter bicycle. ‘Wow, is that for me?’ asks the excited boy. ‘If you can ride it you can have it,’ laughs Scotty who watches with pride as his son takes charge of the new steed and wobbles off into the yard on it. He is determined to have it and after a few mishaps he races from one end of the track to the other and declares it to be his.
Scotty digs into his pocket and fetches out the £30 to pay Jason. ‘They grow up fast, don’t they?’ he says, proudly. ‘Got time for a cuppa?’ asks Jason. Scotty always has time for a cuppa and he follows him into his new office, allowing Robbie to acquaint himself with his bike. ‘That was a laugh last night,’ says Scotty as they wait for the grubby electric kettle to boil. ‘Not for me and Rosa,’ grumbles Jason, ‘When we realised who it was we couldn’t believe our eyes.’ Scotty takes the mug of tea and takes a sip. ‘Everyone thought she was a hoot,’ he says, ‘she should have won. That female impersonator was rubbish. He only won because he’s knocking off the boss. Gave us a laugh anyhow; you should be proud of her.’ Jason says he hopes she never puts on a repeat performance, that’s all.
Rosa’s new tractor unit is parked on the recently-laid concrete standing area, coupled to a 33ft ‘tilt’ trailer. ‘Nice rig your sister has,’ observes Scotty, ‘we’ve seen her down the docks getting loaded. Never has much to say for herself though.’ Jason gives him a sideways look; ‘do you blame her? That dockyard is a hotbed of gossip. She just wants to get on with her job and keep to herself. You know how people talk. The only woman driving a lorry.’ Scotty tries to make out that her role is accepted as perfectly normal in this day and age but gives up on the lie halfway through. ‘Well I know she isn’t a dyke,’ he says.
‘Thanks for nothing,’ calls a voice from outside the door. ‘Sorry Rosa; didn’t see you there,’ mumbles Scotty. ‘Obviously not,’ she replies, ‘you men are all so quick to make assumptions.’
There is an awkward silence broken by Robbie who comes in howling, with a graze on his knee after falling off the bike into a pile of junk. Rosa steers him into the kitchen while Scotty rescues the bike, straightens its handlebars and pronounces it undamaged. ‘He’ll soon get the hang of it,’ he assures Jason, ‘just don’t tell his mother.’
The boy returns with his knee cleaned up and sporting a large sticking plaster. Rosa hands him back to his father, and then asks ‘you haven’t heard from Frank have you?’ She seems disappointed when Scotty replies in the negative. ‘I just wondered,’ adds Rosa before disappearing back indoors. Seems that everyone wants news of Frank these days.
Scotty loads the bike into the car boot and they say their goodbyes. ‘Now I can keep up with the others,’ says Robbie proudly, ‘they won’t call me slowcoach anymore.’ Robbie sits quietly for a moment before asking ‘why can’t you drive a nice lorry like Rosa’s, dad?’ Scotty grunts; ‘I wish I could, son, I’d love to have a brand new lorry with a proper bed in the cab and a curtain-sided trailer. It would make life a lot easier for me.’ Robbie agrees, ‘and for me when I come to Gateshead with you. It’s not very comfortable trying to sleep on the engine cover.’ Scotty says he will have a word with Ken and see if he can get him to invest in a new fleet, just for him.
As the car turns into their road they are shocked to see an ambulance and two fire engines parked outside their house. They rush to see what is happening and are greatly relieved to find that the trouble is with the adjoining property. The ambulance crew emerge from the house with Hazel weeping on a stretcher, covered in dust, closely followed by a bewildered Lawrence and their children Katy and Tommy. ‘What happened?’ asks Scotty. ‘I’ll tell you later,’ coughs Lawrence as he brushes more plaster dust from his front.
Mavis struggles up the path with mugs of tea on a metal tray, which are gratefully received by the firemen who are waiting for instructions on how to proceed. As no explanation is forthcoming she asks one of the men what has happened. ‘We heard an almighty crash, then Hazel screaming, I came out and saw dust clouds coming from the window and rang for you lot.’ The fireman looks at his colleagues before replying; ‘it’s one of those do-it-yourself jobs gone a bit wrong,’ he smiles. ‘Seems the man of the house wanted to knock two rooms into one and didn’t think to put in a beam to support the ceiling. Overnight the timbers gave way and they crashed through from the bedroom onto the living room floor.’
By this time half the street has come out to have a nosey and news of the catastrophe goes round in moments, getting added to at each stage in the journey. The firemen are sent in to shore up the ceiling until the Council can organize repairs. Whatever happens, the Smiths will not be allowed home for the foreseeable.
The crowd drifts away and Mavis collects the empty mugs, takes them indoors and relates the story to Dawn. ‘That’ll teach her to try keeping up with the Joneses,’ mocks her daughter, ‘I wondered what they were up to making all that racket. It’ll be nice and peaceful here for a while with them out of the way. They’re lucky nobody was in the room when the ceiling collapsed.’
Robbie has been waiting patiently for a lull in the excitement so he can show off his new bicycle. ‘You lucky thing,’ says Janet, ‘I’m still waiting for my turn to get a bike; how about it dad?’ Scotty tries to worm his way out by changing the subject but his daughter has been fobbed off too many times. ‘Okay, I’ll keep a look out for one,’ he concedes, ‘but you’ll be wanting a car before long.’ Janet scowls; ‘it’ll be years before I’m old enough to drive. You always favour the boys, it’s not fair.’ She stomps off up the stairs, her pigtails flapping on her shoulders. Scotty makes himself scarce, suddenly remembering an important ‘thing’ he needs to do in the shed.
Once locked in his refuge he turns on the transistor radio and starts tidying up the bench, which is still strewn with bits of Spitfire, paint pots and glue. He sighs as he scoops the rubbish into a cardboard box ready to put on the bonfire. He is looking forward to having his bonfire later on. There is something about burning rubbish which is very satisfying and one of the few chores he can carry out without interference from Dawn or Mavis.