038. You-know-whats

“Jeff, I can’t understand it.” Angela Dodd was in the usual flap on Wednesday morning. There was even more chance of her not being able to find her brief case, or her husband his car keys, in this tiny, overcrowded house.

Jeff Dodd was reading the paper at the small breakfast bar in the kitchen. He glanced up at the wall clock, with its pink pigs instead of numbers, he’d have to be moving soon if he was to meet that client before ten. Toby sat beside his Dad eating a bowl of cornflakes, and checking to see if the backs of his hands had started to sprout hair like his Dad’s yet. His Nan was in her minuscule garden, putting food out on the bird table in the centre of the lawn.

“What?” asked Mr Dodd.

“I definitely phoned Jones Services about our little trouble and left a message on their answer phone,” said his wife.

Toby wondered how his Dad could listen to his Mum, and still read about the Open Golf Tournament on the middle page.

“Give them time,” Jeff mumbled, biting into a piece of toast as a dollop of marmalade landed fair and square on the article he was reading. “They’re probably busy men.” He scooped the marmalade off the paper and put it back on his toast. “I had heard that we aren’t the only ones. Belches' Supermarket chain are having to close the Faffingly store ‘until further notice’ because of you-know-whats.”

That obviously wasn’t a good enough excuse for Toby’s Mum, because she smoothed her blonde hair and sighed, before adding, “Well that’s as may be, but we need something done, now.”

It felt as if it had rained for weeks, but actually the solid rain had continued for only three days. Today the sun was shining in a vivid blue sky. The gardens were soggy, with the summer flowers drooping and battered, and the paths and pavements glistened with puddles and pools. All this would swiftly change once the heat of the sun got to work. Toby caught the bus to school, it was too far to walk and there was nowhere in Nan’s place to put his bike. Something his Mum and Dad had been talking about over breakfast was niggling away at the back of his mind. He just knew that it was important, but he simply couldn’t recall what it was or why it was important. He’d remember in time.

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