Have not really found a suitable title so just made this one up.
Please be aware of copy write laws, if you wish to have this reproduced elsewhere or in part please ask for my permission via pm.
Characters:
Richard is 23 years old, single,lives in a bed sit and drives
as though there is no tomorrow. Always short of money
as he usually spends it on nights out and females in the hope of bagging a score!
Bill is fairly large build with scraggy greying hair,
married for thirty years to Mary who is around 5ft 5ins
of medium build with dark short hair and a slightly rounded face.
Bill has been a HGV driver since he was 22 years young, enjoys
evenings at his local and regularly plays darts
with his mates whilst Mary is more than happy to sit at home
watching TV.
Harry is around forty years old married, often keeps himself to
himself, says very little but takes in a lot of what is going on
around him.
Sid is the only mechanic in the company, in his fifties small round tubby body large bald
patch on his head with very short dark hair on the sides,
does not like to have his daily schedule changed at the last
minute and is a bit lazy when it comes to keeping the garage tidy but
is an excellent and competent mechanic.
Mark is seventeen years old and has been taken on initially
as a work placement trainee mechanic and if he proves to come up
to scratch may be considered for a full apprenticeship with the
company. Mark does not have a lot to say and often seen when he has
nothing to do wandering around with hands in his overall
pockets and his head slightly bowed looking at the ground.
Alec is the traffic clerk extremely competent and organised though often
becomes frustrated when John who has taken over ownership of the
company from his father after his retirement tries to take over his job.
Other Characters not yet included.
Now for the story:
DAY ONE
Along a row of terraced houses’ the wet roof slates glistened from the lights of the street lamps it was a cold windy morning in February. Through a gap in the curtains of one of the terraced bedroom windows the light from a lamp cast a soft orange glow into the room. Heavy breathing coupled with the occasional snore drowned out the gentle rhythm of a clock ticking nearby on the bedside table.
Shortly the peace was shattered by the shrill ringing of the alarm clock, the two occupants of the bed remained still until the body of a male gradually began to move under the bedclothes turning slowly towards the side table where the alarm clock stood - slowly an arm rose upwards, the hand and fingers fumbling along the top of the bedside table first one way, then the other, at the same time moving up and down as though half trying to swat a fly. Finally it found its' target and his attempts to switch off the alarm only ended when the clock fell off the table and crashed to the floor.
A second body moved, slightly at first but soon appeared from underneath the sheets into an upright position and with a deft movement elbowed the half sleeping figure next to her instantly prompting a verbal reaction!
“For Gods’ sake turn that bloody alarm off,” said Mary. The arm descended to the floor and once again followed the same procedure as before. Mary pulled herself out of the bed and switched on the light before moving across the room to silence the alarm, which was by now well into its death throes.
“Come on Bill, get up, its half past three.”
“Alright, alright, I’m getting up” he groaned.
Mary put on her dressing gown went downstairs to the kitchen and put the kettle on as she knew full well that it would be a good half hour or so before he would be ready to leave for work. Very slowly Bill now coming round from his deep sleep inched slowly out from the warmth and comfort of the bed and sat on the edge rubbing his eyes whilst trying to stifle a yawn before moving towards the chair where he had put his work clothes ready the night before.
Bill is well built possessing a larger than average stomach that he continually denies being caused through his love of food (mainly fry ups) and the occasional pints of beer and packet of crisps!! He certainly was not of this stature when he married Mary who is of medium build with dark short hair and slightly rounded face.
Mary walked back into the bedroom with two mugs of tea whilst Bill was having his usual quick wash. On returning he stood by the bed. “Is that rain I can hear?”
“No dear - it’s the fairies’ wanting to come in out of the cold!” she replied sarcastically.
Muttering a few inaudible words he started to dress. Fifteen minutes had elapsed since Mary brought up the tea, but to her it seemed ages as Bill shuffled around the bedroom gathering up his belongings for work.
“How much longer are you going to be?”
“Not long luv, just finish my tea then I will be off,” he replied.
“Well why don’t you finish it downstairs so that I can get some sleep before having to get up for work.”
Mary has a part time morning job in a supermarket which means getting up at seven o’ clock.
“Alright, I’m going,” he replied grumpily.
“Oh………..and before you do, just make sure that you have everything - I don’t want disturbing like last time,” she added.
Picking up his bag, glasses and mobile phone, Bill trundled down the steep flight of stairs to the small kitchen to finish his tea.
On opening the front door he was met by a bitterly cold wind, the rain stung his eyes as he walked to his car. He fumbled first in one pocket then the other for the keys. Realisation then hit him..............the keys for the car were somewhere in the bedroom and not as he thought in his pocket!
“Oh sh*t!” he thought looking up at the bedroom window to see whether the light was still on. All was in darkness, there was no question about it, he was going to have to go back inside for the keys.
Gingerly he opened the front door and very carefully tip-toed in so as not to make a noise, creeping up the stairs a loud creak emitted from one of the steps.
“Is that you Bill?” Mary asked in an anxious voice.
“Of course its me, can’t find the keys to the car, sure I put them in my pocket before leaving.”
He knew this wasn’t true but it made it sound better rather than to owning up that he had forgotten them.
Switching on the bedroom light he crept over to the bedside table where he thought they might be, but unbeknown to him, in his efforts to switch off the alarm, he had knocked the keys from the table to the floor and were laid just behind the table.
Mary had put her head underneath the bedclothes in an attempt to try to ignore his presence, but this was becoming increasingly difficult especially as he began to talk to himself trying verbally to jog his memory into recalling where he last had hold of them, turning his head to where Mary lay, he asked apprehensively “ Have you seen my keys anywhere”?
By this time her patience was beginning to run out, the bedclothes shot back and, getting out of bed, walked across to where Bill stood - immediately and sensibly he moved out of her way.
After searching through the drawers she noticed them lying on the floor. Picking them up, she turned to face Bill and held out her hand. Very carefully, he reached over and at arms’ length took hold of them. Climbing back into bed, Mary pulled the bedclothes up over her head whilst he stood for a while wondering whether to say anything but, deciding not to push his luck any further than was necessary, he quietly made his way out of the house and drove to his place of work which was only about a 15-20 minute journey.
Bill is a long distance truck driver and works for a local haulage firm Fisher Haulage Ltd, a small family run business in Lincoln employing six drivers’ one mechanic, one trainee mechanic on a work placement and a traffic clerk. He has worked there since he was 26.
Now aged 58 he still enjoys the freedom of being on the road though the one thing that he could quite happily do without is having to spend 2-3 nights a week away from home, he would much prefer to spend the nights in the comfort of his own bed instead of in the back of his cab.
Unlocking the large metal gates to the yard, he parked his car and walked over to where his Mercedes truck stood climbed inside and after placing his night kit on the bunk bed started the engine.
He was happy with his truck as it was only nine months old and instead of the usual straight eight gearbox his old one had this had sixteen gears and very easy to use.
On the dashboard an indicator showed what gear the truck was in and whether or not it was in high or low ratio, to change up a gear the lever situated to the left of the driver was pushed forward to the stop and then the clutch would be depressed then released, down a gear the lever was pulled back and again the clutch used, to change from say fifth high straight to seventh high and as long as the revs were above 1500rpm a button on the top of the lever was depressed (known as the Function Button) at the same time as holding the lever towards the stop and when the clutch was used it would go straight to seventh gear, when slowing for a roundabout the lever could be pushed to the left with the function button pressed and using the clutch the correct gear for the road speed would be selected automatically there was also another switch about three quarters up the lever facing forward, flicking it up selected high ratio whereas down selected low ratio and would only operate when the clutch was used. As Bill completed filling in his tacho card which is a round disc that inserts into the tachograph and is incorporated into the speedometer records by means of a trace the speed of the vehicle, distance it has covered, the time when the journey commenced, when breaks are taken which have to be selected manually and of course more importantly, the correct time.
The yard itself is not overly large but easily accommodates the six lorries and ten 40-foot trailers’ that the company own. Around the perimeter a six-foot high wire fence protects the property. The surface of the yard is uneven and is made up of hardcore with a number of potholes scattered about that were now filled with muddy water. Across from where Bills’ lorry stood is a building that houses two rooms; one is the bosses’ office and the other the traffic office; behind is where the drivers' rest room is complete with coffee machine table positioned in the centre of the room with six plastic chairs around it . A sign hangs up outside the building Drivers Report Here, through the door is the counter where drivers go for their next schedule, entrance to the office itself is through a separate door to the right of the building. To the left of the traffic office 25 yards away is a garage constructed of corrugated metal with a lorry wash to the side.
Bill carefully walked across the yard avoiding the water filled holes to the drivers’ rest room, on entering, he switched on the light. As soon as he had deposited 20p into the slot of the coffee machine, another driver walked in.
“Morning Bill, just in time - mines a coffee.”
Bill looked up; it was Richard, a lean young man of 23 years with short black hair.
Being the youngest driver with the company he has made a bit of a reputation for himself among the others as a bit of a womaniser and also the fact that he drove flat out where-ever he went.
“’Av’nt got any more change, just used my last twenty pee” replied Bill.
Richard looked at him straight in the eye. “It’s the same every time – only have twenty pence, not exactly the last of the big spenders are you” as he put his own money into the machine.
“Where you off to then Bill”?
Bill was in no mood to be talkative for he still felt tired from his late night at the pub playing darts.
“Up to Newcastle for a nine o’clock drop”
“Bit early aren’t you? Only a three and a half hour drive there you know”
“I know” replied Bill “but I like to take my time not like some people who tear- arse all over the place just so they can get back to scr*w their girlfriends”
“You’re only jealous just because you’re past it, anyway, haven’t got a steady one since she finished with me” replied Richard.
“I’m not surprised, we’ve all heard how she caught you with your pants down in the car park with another woman at the local”
“Well how the hell did I know she would come to the pub that night, said that she was staying in and washing her hair.”
Bill was now on a roll; for it made a change for someone else other than himself to be on the receiving end.
“The best bit was when the other girls’ boyfriend found out a week later and you took to wearing your sunglasses even when it was raining.”
“Haven’t got time to sit around listening to you taking the pi** I’ve got to get down to Bristol”, responded Richard moodily, he then walked out of the rest room coffee in hand to his truck and drove out of the gates, engine screaming before changing gear.
Finishing his coffee, Bill walked to his lorry and drove out of the gates with his load of fertilizers for a Garden Centre. Within 30 minutes he had reached Markham Moor Roundabout and drove north up the A1 at 50mph, for he was in no hurry. The rain continued to pour down; the wipers were doing their best to keep his vision clear. He switched on his Citizen Band radio to ask for a traffic report.
“Any Breaker give me a ten thirteen northbound to Scotch Corner?”
Nothing came through even though there were a number of trucks southbound, on trying again the radio crackled into life
“Breaker for the ten thirteen northbound clean and green to Scotch Corner there was a Smokey square wheeled just south of the M62 on the northbound side but should be gone by the time you get there”
“Thanks Breaker, can’t help you southbound, only just come on but if your heading to Cathedral City you got a green light all the way through”.
“Thanks good buddy but I’m making for London. You have a good day.”
He was not worried about the police car as he was staying well within the speed limit and he knew that they would not bother him.
By seven thirty, he pulled into a Transport Café Truck Park at Scotch Corner.
It was still dark and although the rain had by now eased, the wind still blew cold air from the north. He switched off the engine and rubbed his tired eyes. Just as he was about to make a move to get out there was a loud bang on the side of the drivers’ door. Nearly jumping out of his seat he looked down to see Pete, a driver from Newcastle whom he had known for some time as their paths crossed on many occasions. Pete was a tall lean man of 48 years, with short curly black hair and thin facial features.
“Christ sake Pete you put the shits right up me then” as he opened the door. “Have you just come or are you going?”
“Just arrived, come on, get a move on and I’ll buy you a cuppa” Pete said in his strong Geordie accent.
“ Hang on a minute, do you know where Simsons’ Garden Centre is in Newcastle? save me looking at the map”
“Simpson Garden Centre? Never heard of it”
“On Clayton Road, surely you must know it.”
“Lets have a look at your delivery note,” said Pete who has lived in Newcastle all of his life and knows the area intimately. On taking a look he peered up at Bill still sat in his cab then down again at the delivery note before taking a deep breath trying his hardest to stifle a grin.
“Ah, an easy drop to get to, exit the park, head south on the A1 and your best bet is to go on the M62 then south on the M6”
“Wh…wh...what do you mean go to the M62…...what the bloody hell are you on about?”
“Well...................putting it in a nutshell this delivery of yours' is for Newcastle under Lyme - not Newcastle upon Tyne” Pete could no longer contain himself from hiding the very wide grin he was now wearing.
“Here, let me look”. Bill snapped and snatched the docket from Pete's fingers holding it under the cab light and adjusted his glasses, the colour in his face drained away as his jaw dropped open, all feeling of tiredness disappeared and put his hands up to cover his face.
“Oh bloody ‘ell what am I going to do? It’s got to be there for nine.” he said despairingly.
“ It’s no good worrying pal, you’ll just have to get it there when you can, the best thing for you to do now is to phone your gaffer tell him what’s’ happened and pray that he has had a good week-end and is in an equally good mood.”
"Oh bloody 'ell!" Bill began to feel extremely anxious at having to make the call and looking at the tacho clock he saw that it was now 07.40hrs and knew that Alec the traffic clerk, would be in the office and with any luck Mr Fisher the owner would not arrive until later.
With much apprehension building up inside him he picked up his mobile phone. Much rather Alec deals with it before the boss gets in he thought.
Pete was still standing by the cab and was now more interested in finding out how Bill was going to dig his way out of this than go to the cafe' for breakfast.
Not wanting an audience Bill snapped “I’ll see you in the caff ” then slammed the door shut.
Much to his relief Pete walked off towards the café when Alec answered. “Good morning Fisher Haulage how may I help you?”
“Alec it’s me, Bill, got a bit of a problem”
“What’s up?”
“Well…. don’t quite know how to tell you this, but……………….”
Bill walked into the café, went to the counter then sat down opposite Pete.
“What did he say?” asked Pete with great anticipation..
“Said he would call back but in the mean time I am to get there ASAP,” mumbled Bill
“Well, now't you can do until your rest period is over and then make a move, anyway, since you're not willing to elaborate how you are going to dig yourself out of this hole to your boss how’s the wife?” Pete asked.
“Still going on about wanting a bungalow in a village, keep telling her that we’re better off in the city, not too far from her job and close to my work, anyway, I don’t want to live out in a village, they’d be nothing to do there”.
“What you really mean is that you’d be too far away from your local” replied Pete grinning
“ Well there is that but, we’ve lived at our house for the past thirty years and I don’t want to move - simple as that.”
“Bacon sandwich?” came a voice from the counter. Bill got up and went over and collected his order, on returning Pete said in a surprised voice. “Bloody hell not like you to settle for a bacon buttie Bill, are you on a diet?”
“No; just lost me appetite.”
Back at the yard, the door to the traffic office opened and John Fisher walked in; Alec looked up in surprise, “you’re in early.”
“Going to a meeting this morning,” replied John who had taken over the company after his father retired last year.
“Had a nice weekend?” asked John
“Did until now.” John sensed something was amiss “OK, what’s happened.” Alec told him.
“For Christ sake did you not tell him on Saturday where he was going”?
“Well, er yes, told him Newcastle, didn’t think for a minute he would be stupid enough to go to the wrong one. Its’ written quite clearly on the delivery note,” trying to pass back the buck.
“Bloody hell, don’t need this first thing on a Monday, where is he scheduled to go after that?”
“Across to Birmingham, pick up a load then to Stains after which, load up at Sidcup.”
“What have you got on that load sheet, Ah! Harry - he’s in for service today¬ has Sid started it yet?
“Don’t think so” replied Alec
“Ok - you’ve got him down for Macclesfield then onto Wrexham, we’ll postpone his service until later in the week. Get him on his way now so that he can do Bills’ load and send Bill up to Wrexham when he’s tipped. – That should at least recover some lost ground. Oh, by the way, give the garden centre a call; tell them that Bills’ had a double blow out on his trailer or something believable and that he’ll get there as soon as he can; whatever you do - don’t tell them what he’s done.”
Alec was beginning to lose patience as being the traffic clerk he could quite easily have worked this out for himself than being told.
Alec rang Bills’ mobile and his exasperation grew when there was no answer. He opened the hatch to the driver's rest room where Harry was sitting drinking a cup of coffee.
“Your service is cancelled, I want you to get off with your load and then run to Birmingham for a delivery to Staines. Soon as you have tipped, call me.”
"Why is my service cancelled then Alec"? By now Alec's patience was running thin, "Bills' cocked up and went up to Newcastle instead of Newcastle-under-Lyme now just get on with it" he snapped.
Without another word Harry picked up the delivery note then left the office to get his tractor unit that had just been driven into the garage by Sid, after handing back the keys to Harry he walked across to the traffic office. Following him was Mark, a 17 year old on a Work Experience Placement with the company and who always walked around with a vacant and expressionless look on his face, kept his head slightly bowed as though watching the ground and when seen wandering around has his hands inside of his overall pockets.
“Alec, what do you mean by taking Harrys’ truck off its service and just what are we supposed to do for the rest of the day with no trucks in the place to work on”? John had just returned to the office and overheard what was said.
“Well, for a start you can get the garage cleaned up, its’ a complete bl**dy mess in there and when you’ve finished you can start filling in some of the potholes in the yard, I am fed up of seeing and hearing the trailers bouncing around like horses in a rodeo when they are towed around the yard ”.
Sid muttered a few inaudible words before skulking out of the office now wishing he had kept his mouth shut.
Inside the garage were two bays; one containing a pit, the other a ramp. A large wooden worktable stood at the back and on the work top there were a number of tools scattered about along with some oilcans and a couple of playboy magazines, their pages marked with oily fingerprints. The smell of oil and diesel filled the air, the floor was filthy with debris littered around and marks of dried oil were embedded into the concrete. A barrel stood in one corner overflowing with discarded rags, paper and old oil filters.
Sid turned to Mark who was gazing at the floor with both hands in his overall pockets.
“Right young man, you make a start by clearing that rubbish off the workbench, then empty the bin and sweep the floor. After you’ve done that, put some neat de-greaser down, leave it for an hour then scrub it off with that brush over there.”
Slowly Mark raised his head looked around then looked at Sid, his expression was one of expectation.
“Well, get on with it then", snapped Sid, "I’ve got a lot of catching up to do on the paperwork side of things probably take me all morning. Let me know if you have any problems and remember, knock before you enter.”
Sid strolled across the garage to a small room in the garage that doubled up as an office and rest room. On closing the door, he sat down in a worn out oily stained fabric covered chair picked up the newspaper and started to read. Mark looked round the garage with a disheartened look on his face muttered a few words under his breath and started clearing the rubbish off the work bench.
