Nothing to Declare

The Tiger Tours executive coach, part of the Bradford based Kashani Group of Companies, was third in line at the queue for customs inspection at Dover's Eastern Dock. The forty two passengers had been enjoying three nights in Paris and had
just completed the return crossing from Calais. Spirits were high as a customs officer approached the coach and the driver opened the front passenger door to greet his arrival. With luck, he would wave them through or at worst, just ask for the passengers to walk through the customs hall with their passports and hand luggage. There were two reasons why Dave Newton didn't want the bother of unloading the
cases, one of which was the physical effort involved.

The officer climbed the first two steps, giving himself enough height to look down the interior of the coach and scrutinise the passengers. They were a text book mix of
contented travellers and advance information from their ship's purser already told him that there was nothing to worry about in terms of the purchase of excessive duty free allowance. He turned his attention to the driver.

'Good afternoon driver, how long have you been away?'

'Just three nights in Paris,' replied Newton with as weary-is-a-driver's-lot tone as possible.

'And where are your passengers from please?'

'Bradford,' replied Newton. 'They're from the further education college.'

'Can I see your waybill please?'

Newton handed over the passenger manifest waybill and uttered a silent prayer. It contained many names of immigrant origin and the potential reason for a luggage check. The customs officer smiled as he handed it back

'Ask your passengers to bring their hand luggage and passports with them and make their way through customs. Once they're all off, you can move down to the exit booth. Thank you driver; safe journey home'

Newton remained as inscrutable as he could as he reached for the microphone and watched through his wing mirror as the officer moved down the side of the coach to the next in line. He gave the necessary instruction to his passengers and inwardly turned a somersault of relief. As the last passenger left the coach Newton picked up his mobile phone and sent a smiley faced emoji to a gold plated mobile two hundred and fifty miles north.

Satisfied that the ordeal was over, Newton closed the passenger door, engaged second gear and drifted the one hundred meters down to the exit booth. A bored looking official slid back his window and held out his hand as Newton pulled alongside
the booth. Newton obliged by dropping his passport into it and offering a weary smile. The official scanned the passport, flicked through a few of the pages and then handed it back.

'Thank you driver, now just pull into the lay-by over there and my colleague will be with you in a minute.'

These words hit Newton like an electric shock and he did his best not to show any reaction other than weariness. He pulled across as instructed and sat motionless in
his seat listening to his quickening heart beat. A white shirted female officer emerged from an adjacent Portakabin being towed towards him by a very frisky brown and white springer spaniel, its short tail wagging at lightening speed. Newton opened his passenger door to greet them and the pair were inside and at work before he
knew what had hit him. The spaniel was encouraged onto and under every seat along the length of the coach whilst the officer looked along the luggage racks for anything deliberately left behind by passengers.

Their work completed, she walked to the front, put the dog back onto the leash and asked the driver to accompany her down the steps to open the under floor luggage lockers. Newton's legs almost buckled under him as he followed her down the
steps, but he maintained enough composure to open the side panels which not only revealed the passengers' suitcases, but other compartments containing his coach cleaning paraphernalia and tool kit, the interior of the drivers' bunk which is accessed from inside the coach and the storage tank for the chemical toilet.

The spaniel was very quickly rummaging about amongst the cases, its stubby antenna vibrating wildly as it was encouraged by the handler into every available crevice. It was soon into the cleaning locker and the bunk, sniffing everything at breakneck speed. After what seemed to Newton like an eternity, the officer smiled in his direction, handed over an exit pass and thanked him for his cooperation. Newton closed the locker doors, returned to his driving position and sank with relief into his
seat's hydraulic suspension. He could see his passengers waiting for him at the other side of the exit gate, completely oblivious to the fact that he had just aged five years since they last saw him.

As the Tiger Tours Volvo touring coach powered its way up Jubilee Way out of the port of Dover, the on board telephone rang and Newton pressed the hands free button and
waited.

'Mr Chan here; is everything going according to plan?'

'Indeed it is Mr Chan. I'm just leaving Dover and should be back at the depot by eleven o'clock.'

'Excellent news Mr Newton, I will inform Mr Kashani immediately and we will be waiting with your usual reward to welcome you home.'

The phone clicked off immediately and as Newton leaned across to clear the handset, a front seat passenger who had overheard the conversation on the speaker phone
decided to engage the driver in some lively banter.

'Bloody hell Dave, have you just arranged for a number forty seven with fried rice when you get back?

'Better than that Gary; it's the manager's special tonight. Enough goodies to keep me going until the next trip.'

Newton smiled to himself as he cleared the ascent and changed up into fifth gear. The coach responded and began to eat up the Kent countryside with considerable grace. The passengers settled down for the final leg of the homeward journey and Newton began to feel the same feelings of elation, relief and pride that always rewarded him after a successful tour. He had always enjoyed tour driving and was extremely good at the job, but it would never have made him a wealthy man. Since his company had been taken over by Kashani however, his prospects had improved considerably. Unfortunately, as with most things, there was a down side and for David Newton it was the consequences of ever being caught.

He put such things to the back of his mind and turned his attentions to the task of guiding the Volvo northwards with as much finesse as he could muster. With the flick of a switch the stereo sound system began its gentle task of bathing the senses with soothing ballads. As their driver caressed the gear box seamlessly into sixth gear his relaxed and somnolent passengers gently surrendered to Matt Monro's irresistible invitation to dream the impossible dream.