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NEW AUTHORS SHOWCASE
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31-03-09 6M P3 |
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Second Class by G. Reid |
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Sample. “I hope he stays Pen. Casuals come & go,& hardly any of them stick it, either that or,Gill ‘n Clem don’t let them.” Kevin’s eyes catch Babs‘, Babs gives him a smile & a big windmill wave. Kevin looks round him, points to himself & wiggles his fingers back before Roy nudges him, annoyed at such importance being interrupted. Kevin jumps & nods at Roy, looking seriously at his knot tying abilities. Babs covers her mouth giggling then looks down at a one-eyed staring Penny, “I see, early December and the temptress Blackkirk Babs weaves her evil spell.” “Weeeeeellll” protests Babs “Pen. I’m young… still. I work obscure hours” “Is there any other kind?” “I’m approaching my sexual prime according to Neopolitan Magazine, I want to meet people my own age, in broad daylight, sober. This place is getting monotonous. Someone watching Countdown.” “Oooooh, big word.” “I’m serious Pen. It’s getting boring round here. I’m fed up being chatted up by the same old wankers!” Just then, mistletoe appears above her head & John’s pucker lipped face appears. Babs eyes stares at him as she sniffs the air & groans, “Oh, hello, John. We were just talking about you.” John stops his slurping pucker to grin. ”I knew it. You can’t stop talkin’ about me. You can’t stop thinking about me. I bet, when you go home, tucked up in yer little bed, with your sexy red lonchaney on, you can’t stop dreamin’ about me!“ “Only in nightmares, I blame that cheap Ahzed cheddar.” Undaunted, John puckers up again, “Come on Babs, kiss me for sexmas.” “No. It’s too early,& bad luck, especially with you?“ “That’s right.“ agrees Penny, umpire in the middle, ”Its only early December… Why, the shops have only been filled with decorations, crackers & puds since.. August!” John slumps his mistletoe arm as Babs chats to Penny about the cost of xmas. John smiles & goes down on one knee,. “Then let ME end your future financial burdens Babs, Marry me Babs, come on, Why won’t you marry me Babs,” After the initial shock, Babs growls, “Well, two reasons, for a start” “Name one.“ “Well…. You’re married for a start.” Babs grins, arms folded, hoping he‘s finally took the hint, John ponders in kneeling position for a minute then asks, “And, ,the other, , , ,?“ Babs sighs & grabs Roy as he passes, “Roy, be a dear & fix it for me to stand beside the new guy durin’ sorting this afternoon could you, pretty please, old pal, old son?” Roy looks at his grabbed arm & lightly shakes it loose, replying authoritively, “Well, my names not Jim, but I’ll see what I can do.” “Oh tanks Roy, you’re a real treasure.” “Careful Roy, I think she means she wants to bury you,” warns Penny. “Preferably in her treasure chest” mutters Roy. Babs glares at Penny then gawks at Roy, “Roy, you off all people!“ “I’m sorry dear, Sometimes the low wage humour in here gets to even me sometimes.” Roy smiles & walks off, his arm is grabbed again but this time, he is pulled face to face with John who growls deeply. “Hey ,she’s mine.” Roy stares blankly at him, then flicks his arm away,& handcombs back his brylcreemed dark hair, walking away with a slight smile & dignity intact. John then glares at Babs & stomps over to mutter right in her face as she leans back from his breathe. “Tell yer boyfriend, I’m watching him” As John walks off, Babs checks her nasal passages are still operational & shouts, in belated retaliation,. “Which one?” “All of them” shouts John stomping off. Penny breaks off from reading the notice-board to mumble,. “That should narrow it down to a phonebook.” Babs glares at a mouth covening, slightly apologetic, tell-her-face, Penny. A few of the new casuals now gather outside Gill’s Office. Thomas, a fat ,dark-haired guy with a permanent dopey expression,. Jason, a glasses-wearing, perm-haired, permanent grinner & Mary, with tinted specs, almost like a Roy clone, though one of them’s a girl, all wearing shirt ‘n tie under various degrees of clean thin jackets, managing a muttered ‘Hi’ to each other as they look round them boredly. Before two men get out the lift & frogmarch to the portakabin office, one tall skeleton figure in old dark suit, looking like Chalkie from the Giles cartoons with dark pudding bowl hairstyle, parted hitler style, Gill. Behind him in sick pattern tie & chosen-for-him shirt is Clementine, Noel Edmonds in need of a haircut & shave, They storm through the casuals, into the Office, slam the door like there’s been an emergency & close the blinds. Jason watches agog like the others, then grins, hands in pockets, nodding towards Office… “I think that’s them.” Pause.“Who” asks Thomas. “Our bosses” “Yep” says Kevin. Pause. Then they jump as Mary states in her monotone strain,. “I think the tall one’s Mr Gill & the short ones Mr Clem-en-tine, I saw them when I went for my preliminary interview.” Jason nods, not caring less, till he realises, ”You’ve… had an interview?” Mary nods as if she did something wrong. Jason points to each Casual, “Have YOU had an interview?” “No” said Kevin. “Have you had an interview?” “NO” says Thomas eventually. “Then, how did YOU get the job” says Jason, finger back at Mary. “I applied for it through the Job Centre vacancies, which I attend five days a week” she states. “You,” ..points Jason. Kevin pauses in mid nose-wipe pondering “Uh ,my brother Bob’s a head postman, here, he,.. put my name down for it,& though unnecessary, my mum made me send a c.v. & an application form to the ad in the situations vacant page of the Chronicle, ‘Mums Scots accent—‘In case the bamstick forgets!’ “ Kevin chuckles, slowly dying at the blank faces & Gills speccy eyes, noisily but briefly appearing through the blinds. Jason points to Thomas looking at the ceiling. “You.” “What.” “Did you um…” says Jason, pointing to Kevin. “No.” “Then how um?” “Dunno.” The Casuals look at him. Even Kevin admits,“You MUST know how you got here.” “Well my dad knows Mr Gill….” “Whose your dad then?” says Jason “Councillor Dennis West MP?” “He knows him too, but no, my dad surname, is Cardinal.” Jason nods, then joins everybody in staring at a nonchalent & usually seems-non-compus-mentus Thomas. “Mr Cardina1.. THE Mr Cardinal, of Cardinals Supermarkets. Biggest small chain in Morecashire?” “Yep!” “And he sent his son.. to be a postman?” Enquires Mary. “Not quite. You see, I didn’t want a career in retailing, its all part time, changeable hours, full of working mums, a demanding & unhappy public, threats of violence, robbery, no real future in it for a guy, changing technology & fierce competition inna!” The others nod, then Thomas spoils it by adding, “Anyway, dad said I was crap at it, so,here I am.” The casuals stare at him, then look round as the blinds noisily open and Gills eyes once again peek through. Inside Clementine stands behind him, arms folded as he stares out.. “Well, there you are Mister Clementine. This year’s Christmas turkeys to the slaughter, what do you think of them?” “The usual boss. They’ll never last. Look at them, if ya have to. Kids today are all the same, no spunk, no backbone for hard graft. Just pay ‘em the most to do the least. This lot’ll never amount to anything. I mean, come on chief, you musta had reservations about some of the casuals you have had in the past?” “Only the once, Mr Clementine.” Clementine gawks, slightly flustered as Gill smugly sits down. “Now look..” Deep ponder pause. “I got to where I am today by lots of hard work..” Gill coughs out a “Phugh.” “Annd.. A little luck.. I admit.” Gill reads some papers asking “Are you sure it wasn’t the other way round, Mr Clementine?” “I got the job fair and square. I was appointed Assistant..” (grimace at job title) “Inspector on merit. That lot out there will never be full time postman, let alone..” Before Clementine can get stumped, Gill sighs a reply, “I..have never liked this idea of letting unbiased, unknown outsiders from Head Office, choose the ‘ most suitable candidate‘, quote, unquote, never done in the GPO days.” “Yeah” grins Clem, “Well, the GPO’s gone, old man. This is Regal Post. This-is-the-future and I’m it!” “Don’t scare me Mr Clementine, I’ve just had my Allbran.” sighs Gill in his usual emotionless monotone groan, looking out to notice “ At least one of them’s bothered to wear a suit. Lady exempt of course, first impressions, Mr. Clem-en-tine.” “Yeah.” growls Clem watching Kevin, “I’m watching him too.” |