July Weeks purchased a glass vase from a second-hand stall at a craft sale for five pounds. It was chunky and the right size for what she had in mind. Its blue base morphed into green, then became yellow at the rim. It wasn’t a spectacular item, but July loved its colour and shape. She knew exactly where she would put it and thought some tall artificial golden ginkgo leaves would look nice in it. After she paid for the vase, July realised she might have a problem transporting the thing home as she had arrived on her bicycle. She took out her phone and called her husband, August.
‘Can you come and get me, Darling? I’ve bought a lovely vase but it’s too big to carry while I pedal home.’
‘Not now, July! United’s losing to City and we’re well into the second half. Can’t you wait?’
‘No, I can’t. You can put the stupid game on the car radio. Just come and get me.’
‘I can’t, babe. I came in Dave’s car.’
‘Won’t he let you borrow it?’
‘I don’t like to ask. Look, don’t give me a hard time because I can’t make an unscheduled appointment with you. You knew I was watching the game today with some friends at the pub. Maybe … hang on, we just got a penalty … what was I saying? Oh, yeah. You should have thought about me going to the pub before you bought such a large item. How much did it cost anyway? Can’t you trade it back?’
‘I don’t want to trade it back. It’s perfect for that bare corner in the living room. It’ll add a flash of colour. Aren’t you worried about me riding home on my bike and balancing a large glass vase? Anything could happen, especially at that busy junction with all the bus stops. Don’t you care?’
‘Of course I … He’s nailed it. Good, we’re only three down now.’
‘Better you’re three down than me down under a bus. Please come and get me. How long can it take? I can’t be that far away?’
‘Babe, I’ve been drinking. Can’t you get an Uber, or something?’
‘Oh yeah, why didn’t I think of that. Get an Uber, put my bike in the boot, strap the vase and me in and pay, what, fifteen pounds, for the ride? That’d make this vase cost twenty pounds!’
‘I’m spending more that that in here. I’ll pay for the Uber if it means that much.’
‘That’s not the point, August. This lovely vase cost me five pounds. It was a bargain. If either of us adds costs, it won’t be the same. Can’t you see that?’
‘Nah, not re … shit! The idiot missed … what? Where are you anyway?’
‘I’m at a craft market in Jubilee Gardens.’
‘Jubilee Gar … that’s across the road from the pub, The Jubilee Hotel. Can you see it?’
July’s sprits lifted. ‘Oh, yes, I can see it.’
‘So come on over and we’ll put the vase in Dave’s car, he’s today’s designated driver, and you can either join us, or go home on your bike. How’s that sound?’
As July neared the pub’s front door, a group of disgruntled United fans pushed through, shouting their disgust at the referee. Two of them collided with July and knocked her to the ground.
‘Noooo,’ she screamed as the vase shattered.
‘Shit,’ said one as he swayed.
‘Fuck,’ said the other as he threw out an arm to right his balance.
‘Imbeciles!’ screamed July as she saw the shards of glass around her. She looked for cuts on her hands.
The drunken pair became instantly apologetic and helped her to her feet.
‘Are you okay?’ asked one. ‘I’m really sorry.’
‘You hurt?’ asked the other.
‘I’m alright,’ she said after patting her legs and rear for injuries, ‘but you broke my vase. It cost a small fortune.’
‘How much wash it?’ slurred the first as he shoved his hand in a pocket to get his wallet.
‘Ninety-seven pounds,’ she replied, bending to pick up the largest shard to demonstrate the damage they had wrought. She wondered if she’d overdone the price.
‘Look, let me pay you,’ said the man with wallet now in hand. ‘I’m really sorry about this.’ He fumbled in the brown leather folds and withdrew some notes. ‘Here’s a hundred. Will that do? I’m so sorry.’
About the author
Peter Lingard, plingaus@bigpond.com, born a Brit, served in the Royal Marines, was an accountant, a barman and a farm worker. He once lived in the US where he owned a freight forwarding business. An Aussie now because the sun frequently shines and the natives communicate in English.
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