Suspicion replaced by fondness

Returning to Westmead I felt that I deserved to treat myself to a pork pie, which I duly purchased from Ruben Marsden Master Pork Butcher. To this day I continue to be curiously confused as to why a Jewish person is selling pork pies. Nevertheless, I gobbled it down knowing that this could be the highlight of my day.

Chris, in the meantime, was phoning Richard regarding the types of engines that he had in stock but first he mentioned how solid and sound the chassis was. “You were right, Richard, that chassis was a belter, it hardly needed any welding” buttered Chris.   “Oh, by the way mate, have you any Spitfire seats as well as engines?” posed Chris. “Yes I’ve got a cracking 1300 spit engine plus a pair of immaculate 60’s seats” lied Richard. “No, we don’t want ‘good’ we want ‘bad’, we want to re-con ourselves” Chris pointed out. “Oh, I’ve plenty of crap on shelves and even more crap boxed up” replied Richard openly. “Make sure that you have plenty of tomato soup on the boil for when we come over; just like last time: it was the highlight of the day especially when prepared by your colourful assistant” chuckled Chris the joker. “I’ll go and put the saucepan on straight away; I’m glad to hear that you are making progress, take care and have a good day” was Richard’s parting exchange. I am sure that we are both warming to all the eccentrics that we are constantly meeting during the project. Suspicion and doubt has been replaced by fond amusement with tolerable acceptance. 

Just as we were leaving for the office Colin rang to ask how the day had panned out. He was in a very different mood from the day before when he sounded arrogantly abrupt. Ingratiatingly he humbly expressed his delight that we had cured the ills of the windscreen ‘expanding’ his initial design. “That sounds like the perfect solution,” grovelled Colin, attempting to clean up his nest. “Shall I come tomorrow to finish the chassis?” No, just fuck off.

Later in the evening I received three phone calls from Chris. Each one gaining in incoherency as the 8 pints of Stella kicked in: the final one being total gibberish. “Oh I’ve forgotten what I wanted to tell you, remind me” burbled the ‘tidy drunk’. “You’ve thought of a way of fixing the body panels?” I questioned. “No, not that” “You’ve thought of another way to fix the screen?” “No, not that” “You want me to pick up a car?” “No” “You want another pint of Stella?” “No, don’t be daft” “You’re going to grow your hair long?” “Now you’re being stupid” “You’ve sacked Colin and stuck some angle iron up his arse? Alan’s paid off his debt? WAJ has paid off his debt? Slippery Hampson has described a car accurately? the taxman has given you a rebate? the police have apologised for wrong full arrest?” “No, no, no, my brains gone, listen, listen, I’ll phone you tomorrow!” “Ok” I replied.