Two lads, William and Andrew are playing truant from school. They spent the morning lurking around the railway sidings until a workman told them to clear off. They loitered around the town centre, avoiding policemen and panda cars. They pooled what little money they had and shared a bacon bap from one of those cheap cafés that caters mostly for taxi drivers, claiming they had a dental appointment when quizzed about not being in school. Later in the morning, they loiter at a bus stop and wonder what to do for the rest of the day.
A lady who lives nearby notices them from an upstairs window. Twenty minutes later they’re still there and after half an hour, she’s deduced that they’re not waiting for a bus since three have gone past now. Knowing that they probably should be somewhere else, she dons her overcoat, exits her home and approaches them. She loiters as if waiting for a bus for a few moments before breaking the ice. “No school today boys?”
“Er… it’s lunchtime.” William claims.
“It’s barely eleven a.m.” she retorts.
“Er… the boiler broke, we all got sent home.” Andrew lies.
“I see… so why aren’t you both at home?” she asked.
Between them, the two boys delivered a string of excuses, each contradicting the last. They knew that she knew that they were playing truant from school and eventually, admitted it, claiming the school’s boring and they’d rather knock about doing nothing instead. “Well that doesn’t sound like much fun.” she says.
“S’all right.” Andrew shrugged. “Schools not much fun either.” he added.
“Aren’t you worried that a truant officer or policeman might see you?” she asked. “You are both in school uniform after all.”
“Err…”
“How’s about using your time more wisely?” she says. “I’ve got a couple of jobs that need doing in my garden and if you two did them for me, you’d be off the streets and out of trouble for the rest of the day.”
“How much you gonna pay us missus?”
“Well… if you do a good job, a pound each.” she said. Their eyes lit up. “And I’ll make you some sandwiches for lunch.”
“What kind of jobs?” William cautiously asked.
“There’s an old gazebo that needs breaking up and burning.” she tells them. “…and the autumn leaves need raking from the lawn and burning too, and my garden pond needs clearing.” she added. The boys agree. They get to smash up a gazebo, light a fire and get paid for it. “This way.” she says.
“Aren’t you waiting for a bus?” they asked.
“No… I live just over here.” she said, heading towards a detached Victorian house.
“Why were you waiting at the bus stop then?”
“I noticed you loitering, knew you were skipping school and decided to offer you something better to do with your spare time.” she replied, opening the gate and leading them around the side of her house.
The wonky old gazebo stood precariously by a small muddy pond. An area beyond it has been used for fires in the past, and the boys waste no time kicking the flimsy structure to pieces. The lady fetches them a can of pop each and asks how they’re getting on. They’re clearly enjoying themselves. She lights a small fire and begins piling the former gazebo on it. She advises the boys to feed the fire gradually, and that all the fallen leaves from the lawn need piling on, but not so many to smother the fire. She gives them rakes and tells them that the pond needs clearing too, which is littered with rotten twigs, mulch and half dead weeds. So far as garden ponds go, it’s not a very good one. It’s little more than big muddy puddle, but if you look closely enough, there is a small brick wall surrounding it.
With a belly full of fizzy pop, an exciting fire to tend, a lawn to rake and a pond to dredge, the boys approached their tasks with a giddy enthusiasm. They didn’t care if their school uniforms took on the scent of the wood smoke or got spattered with mud or slime as they pulled the broken bits of branches from its shallow stagnant murk. In fact they deliberately splashed one another and as only boys do, they turned a simple task into a silly competitive and overtly boisterous display. Unbeknown to them, the lady watched from the window. It was only a matter of time before one of them slipped or tripped.
