The Wanderlust Lady and the Door to Door Salesman - 6

August 31, 2012

Minnie

The next day, I decided that I should make my move and visit the

police station in town, to acquaint them with my theory, and see if they

thought it was a likely idea - that these kids who did the door to door

selling were actually getting information to hand on to the gangs that

had been stealing from the neighbourhood. After all, the note I'd had

through the door had said to be alert and let the police know if anyone

thought anything was suspicious.

 

Walking the town is the main part of my life - and although I know

full well where the police station is - I've had never had any reason to

go inside before. For some reason, it makes me nervous. I went past

the library - saw the station there on my right - but decided to make a

tour of the park before I ventured in. And while I made my rounds, I

found all sorts of excuses to stop and sit and look at things - avoiding

the actual trip through the door of the police station for as long as

possible.

 

By 7 it had cooled off considerably, and I was getting hungry and

knew it was time to make my way back home. I still hadn't made it into

the station to report the trap Stan and I'd dreamed up for the gang of

thieves. "Maybe I'll write them a note and drop it off tomorrow," I

thought, as I made my way across the park back to my home. I was just

crossing Stockport Road, and because my mind was on other things, I

really didn't see the van that was racing up the hill until just before it

hit me. And then it was too late.

 

Stan

 

After a fairly lucrative day, I made my way to the pick up point at 6

p.m. But to my surprise, there were two vans there, and my boss, Sadie

was standing outside hers. "Maybe she's come to pay me my bonus in

person - this being the first time," I thought.

 

And sure enough, Sadie said she wanted me to go back with her

rather than with the others as she had something to discuss with me. As

I was the last back, I didn't get a chance to notice if the other guys had

received anything from her - but after all, that wasn't any of my

business.

 

I was not at all worried when Sadie had me sit on my own in the

back of her van. I guessed she didn't like the idea of one of the workers

getting special attention - and that was why she hadn't invited me to sit

up in front with her. But again, due to the enclosed nature of the van, I

hadn't any idea where she was taking me. Out for fish and chips again,

I hoped.

 

But when the van stopped a few minutes later, and Sadie came to

open the back of the van and let me out, we were in the middle of the

countryside. It had started to rain, so she now invited me to sit with her

in the front of the van.

 

"I suppose you're wondering why I picked you out," she started.

 

"I expect it's about the bonuses. My first month's done now, and

maybe you need to explain to me about how much I'm getting."

 

"Well, we'll come to that later. But first off, I need to tell you Stan,

that you aren't really pulling your weight in this job."

 

I was startled - as being told off was certainly not at all what I

expected.

 

"I sell as much as I can every day," I said. "It isn't my fault if people

don't want to buy our junk."

 

"Well, if that's your attitude, no wonder they don't buy anything,"

said Sadie. "Most of the guys bring in £100 or so each day - and you

seldom get much above £50. That doesn't mean much for you to live

on, after you have your cut - but it also doesn't give me much of a

profit either. I could hire ten guys to replace you. I just need you to

know that if you don't buck up - you're out.”

 

"But what about my bonus? You said you'd get to that later. I've

filled in the forms you gave me each day - and some of them had lots

of stuff written about the places. You said I'd get £5 for each one that

was useful. So I reckon that you owe me somewhere around £100 for

them."

 

"Oh, Stan, you are so naive. Oh, I'll give you something. Here's £10.

But if you think that those little bits of information you put on the

sheets were useful - then you haven't caught on to this bit of work at

all. Like take the one you turned in yesterday. It was half scratched off.

I guess you decided that something that you'd first of all decided was

useful, somehow was no longer so. You know what I'm talking about,

Stan?"

 

"Yes," I said, suddenly worried that instead of the lucrative finish to

the evening that I'd been anticipating, this was going to be a disastrous

one.

 

"You scratched off something, but I could half read what it said.

Something about a key under a flower pot, is that right?"

 

"Yeah. I decided that wasn't the sort of thing I should put down."

 

"Why did you put it down in the first place?"

 

"I don't know. She mentioned it. I just wrote it down and then

thought better about it."

 

"You said there was nothing of value in the house and it was pretty

much a dump - and then you put in that she got the money out of the

coffee container in the kitchen. Why did you put that in it?"

 

I was getting uncomfortable now. "It was just something I noticed.

A big roll of notes that she kept in a can in the kitchen."

 

"Do you know Stan how this sounds to me? It sounds to me like

you're getting ready to rob that old lady."

 

"What me? Oh, no. You've got that all wrong. There's no way that

I'd rob anybody?"

 

"Well you know she has money, you know how to get into her

house, you know she's a defenceless old lady who's out all the time. So

if I hear of 16 Oak Lane being robbed, you'd be the first one I'd suspect

of it."

 

"No, I tell you. I like the old bird. She was interesting even though

she is very odd. I don't want to take her money. I'm not a thief. If you

think that, maybe you'd better stuff this job. I'm not going to do your

dirty work for you."

 

"Hey, hold on a minute here. First you're defending yourself, and

now you're accusing me of something. I've heard enough of you.

You're fired. Give me the money for today and then get out of the

van." She was practically spitting and I was really scared of her. I

handed her notes and the £30 from my sales, minus my cut.

 

“Get the Hell out of here, you rat,” she shouted.

 

I opened the door and got out. "But I don't even know where we

are."

 

"Go tell it to the cops," she shouted, "when you go to them and say

how I'm setting you up to rob an old lady." And she reached over to

slam the door shut and sped off.

 

I looked around, wondering which way to go to get back to where I

lived. I seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. Maybe I could catch a

lift into Romiley or Woodley and then walk home to Hyde. I knew the

way - but I reckoned it would be several hours' walk.

 

I got to the main road and stuck out my thumb. Car after car went

past. Nobody stopped. So I figured I might as well start walking down

the hill back to Marple. We hadn't driven far - so I must be within a

mile or so of the town where we'd been selling this week. I was so

tired, and my feet hurt, and I was hungry.

 

An hour later, back in Marple, I decided I needed food before I

made any other decisions. I had £40, my cut from the day's work in my

pocket plus the bonus. I went to the Co-op and bought a sandwich -

and went out into the park to eat it. I didn't know anything about

Marple - except that it was considered a pretty wealthy area with lots

of rich widows who were willing to part with their cash and buy the

junk that I sold. That I used to sell. I didn't even have my bag any more

- it having been inside the van. Calling me miserable was putting a

glossy coat on how I felt. No job. Only a bit of money. My rent is due

on my room tomorrow, the first of the month, and I was counting on

that bonus to pay it. It would take almost every penny I'd earned this

month to settle that bill - and when and where would I get another job?

Hyde, where I live, is about 10 miles away north, I thought. There

were trains and buses from here to there, but nothing was cheap these

days. It would cost me a few pounds even just for the bus fare - and I

didn't know where to catch the bus to Hyde - never having had to do it

before. I didn't even know where the train station was - but I

remembered having seen a sign for it. Nothing much was open. The

Co-op was closing at 8, shortly after I got my sandwich. And to make

things even worse, it was starting to rain again.

 

Then I had a brain wave. “I think I can find my way to Minnie's

house. Maybe she'll put me up for tonight at least.”