Riotous Retirement (6 page)

“As we passed the building site I suppose,” mumbled Gabriel. At least that’s true, he thought! “Anyway it’s pitch black and I didn’t really notice.” Looking at Daisy’s pink coat brought home to Gabriel how difficult it would be to clean the carpets that he had so thoroughly soiled.

Gabriel tossed and turned all night and thought of the myriad of possibilities that would surely happen on the morrow! All of which had the potential to cause him excruciating embarrassment. He rose very early, even earlier than Brenda, which was most unusual, and managed to retrieve his shoes from outside the door and drop them into a rubbish bin. One piece of incriminating evidence disposed of, he decided.

At the village office Helga and Alex the caretaker were discussing the break-in to one of the houses the previous night. Nothing had been taken apparently but the carpets would need an industrial clean, Alex explained to Helga.

“It was either someone with a key or perhaps the door was accidentally left open but whoever it was they were large, or at least they were wearing large shoes, and they had a small dog with them,” explained Alex.

“I have a theory. Have you got a theory, Alex?” Helga asked.

“Sure have, and take a look at what I found this morning,” said Alex, turning towards the door of the office and then coming back in immediately with a plastic bag. He deposited the bag on Helga’s desk.

As Helga peered into the bag Alex explained further. “In the bins nearest to the Bovary villa this morning when I was getting ready for the collection.

“Bloody Gabriel— just as I thought. He has been hassling me for weeks about the new villas.”

“So how do you intend to handle this, Helga?”

“Right, here’s what we will do. Give me the shoes and I will get an opportunity to give them to Brenda without letting any of the other ladies know about this. We can’t take any official action without upsetting everyone, particularly Brenda, and we don’t want that. The last thing I want to do is embarrass her; I’ll just let her have the shoes. That is one astute lady and she will know how to handle Gabriel. I bet she has coped with similar situations many times before.”

“My God he won’t half cop it!”

“Serves the bugger right!” Helga replied.

That very afternoon at the craft group meeting, where all the ladies engage in their particular skill and at the same time contribute and share information of things past, present and even probable events in the future, Brenda’s suspicions were confirmed in the worst way. The main item of news today had come via Alex the caretaker, an impeccable source that could not be doubted. All members of the craft group were talking about it.

“Well, Alex told me that at least one of the new villas had been broken into and that a person had been walking around inside the house with a dog,” the koala toy maker said. “They left footprints everywhere, apparently.”

“And I bet there are fingerprints of course,” added a knitter.

“Well at least you can’t get DNA off a footprint, ” stated the jewellery maker. “Probably just someone wanting to have a look around. Good on ‘em I say. It’s ridiculous all this secrecy!”

Oh my God, Brenda thought to herself, he’s really done it this time. But Brenda bravely stuck it out appearing as normal as possible in the circumstances, and continued with her cross-stitch until 4.00 pm. Brenda said less than usual of course and she couldn’t help but feel that one or two of her friends were also adding things up in their heads, small dog, large stupid husband—who was always poking around where he wasn’t supposed to! Perhaps it was just her imagination but, as Helga motioned her to come in as she passed the office on the way home, Brenda’s heart sank.

Brenda walked home slowly carrying Gabriel’s shoes as well as her cross-stich bag, her mind turning everything over. She was embarrassed but mostly she was angry, very, very angry.

Brenda had been adding everything up since early that morning. Gabriel was up at the crack of dawn—most unusual. He had been stressing about the quality of the new villas and had talked of nothing else for weeks. He had befriended Bryce and paid him way over the odds for the jobs he did. She now had Gabriel’s shoes covered in red mud, received from Helga no less, and they owned a pink dog that most certainly derived her colouring from the powdered brick at the building site, as had the shoes. Brenda had been thinking about this all day but had not tackled Gabriel because first she wanted to find out more. Well she certainly had all the information she needed now. Added to this, Gabriel had done nothing all morning except watch television—and without talking to it as he always did during any sport or political broadcast.

As soon as she got through the door she put her cross-stitch gear on the coffee table, marched straight to the television, switched it off and turned to face Gabriel who was in his usual horizontal position. He didn’t say a word and neither did she. She just threw the bag containing the shoes right into his lap. His body jerked.

“Right Gabriel,” she said in a calm deliberate voice that he recognised immediately, “tell me exactly where you were and exactly what you did last night and do not mess me about.”

Brenda knew her husband well. She knew when he was exaggerating, when he was telling the truth, when he was lying slightly and when he was lying completely. They had been married a long time and she also knew that he knew that she knew exactly what he was thinking, and most especially if it concerned a guilty secret. In this instance Gabriel shifted awkwardly in his chair and Brenda could read in large print on his face, as his eyes looked directly at his feet, ‘I will tell all, and I’m really glad to get it off my chest.’

Just as Helga and Alex had imagined would happen.

The Pink Dog

A man of renown
Is seldom put down
But Gabriel had to confess
His mischief created the mess
Making him feel such a clown

The Water Leak

Alex had many jobs to do around the village and one of the most important was fixing up the minor complaints residents had about the condition of their houses, particularly just after a house was purchased.

Anne had recently moved to the Burnside Retirement Village and so Alex was under instructions from Helga to keep her happy regarding any little complaints she might have about her new home.

“It’s the cupboard under the sink Alex—something’s leaking,” Anne explained, “could you have a look at it, please?”

“Certainly Mrs. Matthews,” Alex said as he took off his work boots and entered the house. Alex was very careful to cultivate and build a good working relationship with all village residents, especially those who were new—hence the ‘Mrs. Matthews’. In fact even with those he knew well and where genuine friendship had developed, Alex would still use the formal titles because he believed that this was key to good long-lasting relationships. It also went with Helga’s idea of offering an up-market service to complement her equally up-market village. Alex was quite aware of this and so, being the accommodating bloke that he was, he just went along with it.

Alex got to Anne’s kitchen and opened the door of the cupboard under the sink. He knew immediately he would have to inspect the connections from the sink to the S bend of the drain outlet, being the most likely cause of the leak. He took off his glasses and his cap and put them on the kitchen bench, and got down on his back on the floor, with his head under the sink looking up towards the outlet. He could see that where the sink connected to the bend it was wet on the outside and there was still a drop forming at the lowest point—cause diagnosed and problem easily solved, Alex thought.

“No worries Mrs. Matthews,” Alex explained as he carefully removed himself from under the sink and got up from the floor. “We’ll just put a small bowl, if you have one, under there until I can get a new part from the hardware shop later today and I’ll be back this afternoon to fix it.”

“That’s great,” said Anne. “Could you make it later in the afternoon because I’ll be at the leisure centre playing cards this afternoon until about four.”

“No worries, about four thirty then,” Alex replied and left.

Alex worked at his other village chores for the rest of that morning. As he worked he developed a slight headache, but nothing too bad so he just kept working.

At about midday he jumped into the village ute to drive to the hardware store. Leaving the village, he glanced up at the large village sign and noticed it was a little blurry. Bloomin headache, he thought to himself as he rubbed his eyes and drove on. It was then he noticed that all the signs in the distance were equally blurry and his mind turned to a leaflet he collected about a week ago. A lecture had been given to the residents about the early symptoms of stroke. Alex had picked up one of the give-away brochures and he distinctly remembered reading about sudden headache and eyesight problems. He pulled into the side of the road, telephoned his wife and asked her to make an appointment with the doctor for later that day. Better safe than sorry he thought.

Anne loved her time playing cards at the leisure centre because she was good at it. It wasn’t as relaxing a time as it ought to have been though, because a lot was expected of individuals by the others in the group. The games that were played were all taken seriously and woe betide the individual who made a silly mistake. Poor play because of the hand you were dealt was only just tolerated. There were less than ten regulars who played cards for two afternoons of the week. Whether playing as individuals or as a member of a pair, each was conscious of not letting the others down—particularly with regard to partners and the set number of players required for certain games. So if anyone was sick they were almost expected to take a doctor’s note to the next meeting—such was the pressure to be there and to perform up to standard.

Anne did not enjoy her card games this particular day. She knew she had let her partner down badly and they had lost practically every round. What is more Anne was very well aware it was her fault. She explained to her card-playing friends she had to be home for Alex coming to fix her kitchen sink and refused to stay for the post card game coffee as was the usual routine. But this was an excuse really because she felt so miserable. She was very glad to get home and not a little worried about her performance. She decided to telephone her daughter and discuss the matter with her.

Alex returned from Bunning’s with the required part and was also worried about his condition. No matter how much he blinked and rubbed his eyes he could get no relief and his headache persisted. As he parked the vehicle, the gardener was there trimming the surrounding hedge.

“Been to the eye man then?” he asked Alex.

“No. Just up for a part for the sink at No. 25.”

“When did you get the new glasses then?”

Alex immediately removed his glasses and looked at them closely. “For God’s sake, what a bloody relief,” he exclaimed as it all hit him suddenly. “These glasses belong to Mrs. Matthews and here’s me thinking … well, well!”

Anne had been at home for 20 minutes when she heard someone at the door. She opened it and was greeted by a grinning Alex.

“How was the card game then Mrs. Matthews, I hope you won?” said Alex as he removed his footwear and stepped inside carrying the new S bend.

“No, I did not,” she replied,” in fact my partner and I lost nearly every hand simply because I kept getting the hearts mixed up with the diamonds.”

“Well how about you try these,” said Alex, “and let me have the pair that you are wearing,” as he whipped off his glasses and offered them to Anne.

“Well I never,” said Anne as it gradually dawned on her why she had been such a poor card player that afternoon. “Do you know, I was about to make an appointment with my diabetic specialist.”

“Yes and here was me thinking I might be having a stroke!”

Anne put the kettle on for a celebratory coffee.

The Water Leak

For Alex – his day went astray
For Anne – her cards wouldn’t play
They both felt like wrecks
Till they swapped back their SPECS
The solution was simple – Hooray!

A Health and Safety Audit