‘I want sausages.’
‘No you don’t.’
‘Yes I do!’
‘Temper temper. You’re too old to be stamping your feet.’
‘Nan gets me sausages.’
‘This isn’t Greggs.’
‘She doesn’t go there.’
‘Birds then.’
‘Not there. Tescos. I get chips there.’
‘A baked tatty with beans. Okay?’
‘No!’
‘Zero, what have you got for this awkward sod?’
‘A thick ear.’
‘Ha ha, bloody funny.’
‘I’ve got a Veggie Burger that tastes like undercooked beef I can dress up with wedges.’
‘Okay, and I’ll have the same. If he sees me eating it, he might eat it too.’
‘With his attention span, I promise you when he sees it he’ll think he ordered it himself. How old is he now?’
‘A rising five. He looks seven already. Starts school next month. Can’t wait to have some extra time to myself, then.’
‘Are you still on the game?’
‘Cheeky sod! Gave that up when I met his dad. A bad decision that.’
‘What? Retiring or marrying Phlegm? How is he by the way?’
‘Getting an electric mobility scooter so he can run about on his own and the Council have adapted the house. They done a good job.’
‘That bad is he?’
‘Stable says Dr. Chang, his consultant. He’s a good bloke. His parents run a chippy in Long Eaton. That’s where he grew up. Phlegm likes him. Listens to him.’
‘He always was the runt of the litter. Remember him at school. Not a week passed without him having a day off.’
‘It was that bloody awful pit house that did it. Damp everywhere. There was no point in bothering with wallpaper. It didn’t stay up and the privy was always backing up.’
‘It’s amazing how he’s made it this far. It’s your hands he has to thank for that.’
‘Thanks. Twice-a-day in the lean-to, all set up with a table. I have to give Madam that. She trained me well. The community nurse says I’m a natural. Haven’t told anyone before, but on my day off I’ve been going to college in Loughborough training to be a sports physio and I’ll get a diploma next year, then they say I should go for a degree. Me! That’s what I’m going to do, so I can help others like Phlegm.’
‘You really love him don’t you?’
‘The best. Clemmy here’s an angel at home. It’s my mum who spoils him rotton. She’s the problem. Sausage and chips I ask you? What chance do I have when she’s about? The good news is she moving in with her boyfriend next week and he lives in Cleethorpes.’
‘I didn’t know that. What are you going to do for help?’
‘We have benefits and my carer’s allowance so, as I say, I’ll try and work from home.’
‘I’ll tell my Joyce. Always doing something to herself in the garden.’
‘Never asked before, but how did you get the name Zero?’
‘Because I played it thick at school. Too bright and they crucified you — hence the nickname Zero because, as far as they were concerned, I had nothing between my ears, but here I am, running this place.’
‘Well, I’d be lost without you. I’m sure Phlegm will be coming in once he’s got his scooter.’
‘Welcome any time you know that.’
‘Tell Joyce regular massages help prevent problems. When Ernie brought Phlegm to Madam he had other ideas about what she might do for his little brother. Instead, she gave him to me and he had his own ideas. He was the first man I met who didn’t want ‘a hand massage’ as she called it. ‘I want you to loosen me up and help me with my exercises’ is what Phlegm said, so I went to the Library and borrowed some books. Madam was great. “So long as he pays, I don’t care what you do, providing you don’t get me into trouble”.’
‘She retired didn’t she?’
‘Moved to Manchester and went legit. Said there was a fortune waiting to be made. Never knew until then she was a qualified physio.’
‘Never. The things I find out running this place. Something new every day.’
‘Mum, I’m hungry. Where’s my sausages?’
‘Sorry about that Little One, clean forgot about the order. I’ll do it myself. In the meantime I’ll bring you a veggie sausage roll.’
‘I’ll tell Dad you’ve been talking about him.’
‘You see what I have to live with — a 4 year old blackmailer!’
‘What was that about him being an angel?’
‘Just kidding.’
‘I’ll be straight back I promise… Elsie, a veggie roll table 8 right now. Make it two on the house.’
‘Thank you Mr. Zero.’
© Robert Howard, 4 August 2020
Comments
Post a Comment