A different perspective

 

‘Showtime!’

He got out of the car, grumbling something that sounded like: ‘More like curtains”, but I couldn’t be sure because the howling wind cut his voice into slices and hurled it at the other travellers. Hunched against the wind, Teddy held the door open for me, his face a flat façade.

‘Thank you, Teddy. The will be all.’

‘Very good, sir.’ Door closed. No flourish. ‘Will you be wanting me later?’

Teddy had this way about him. Always had to put his stamp on a conversation. Bloody irksome habit. Had to have the last word. You know the sort of person I mean. I found it – well, let’s say I’d always had a hard time swallowing it down. Like bile.

‘Kind of you to ask, Teddy, but I have an old score to settle so I’ll stay at the hotel.’ I took the overnight bag from his fist but Teddy managed to unlock the telescopic handle of the small, black suitcase and stand it in front of me. More bile in my throat.

‘Goodbye, sir.’

‘Goodbye, Teddy. And stay out of trouble.’ Couldn’t resist that one. Teddy was trouble. Capital-T trouble. We both laughed. I watched him step around the car and open the driver’s door, hefted my bag and boarded the ferry. Curtain up!

I knew Teddy was watching, head in his hand at the window, frustration scratched across his crevassed face. An infinity of watching eyes. A double-act.

I delivered the consignment without mishap. In my line of work, ladies and gentlemen, it’s prudent to switch one’s routine. But Teddy wasn’t to know that, was he. No one to tell him, not even you.

But he, being Teddy, silly bugger, decided to come and pick me up on the ferry the next morning. We bumped into each other at the stern as she steamed back across the Strait.

Imagine my surprise. You can, can’t you? Dead surprised, I was.

‘Good morning, sir.’

‘Morning, Tedster,’ I quipped. ‘What do you know?’

He was moved to pause, just slightly, and frown. ‘Only what I need to, Sir.’ His placating smile forced the bile to rise again. ‘I took the liberty --’

‘And what liberty was that, Teddy?’ I wasn’t smiling.

‘The liberty of saving you the trouble of --’

‘No trouble at all, my dear Edward. As I said, score to settle.’

So, dear reader, you must understand that it all lined up perfectly - sun, sea, sky. Even the red bullseye. Perfection sprinkled all over it. Photographers call it the rule of threes. I couldn’t miss, wouldn’t miss the opportunity. Not this time. 

So, just as the sunlight burst into the sky, I raised the tool of my trade and followed the rule. One. Two. Three. End of conversation.

You know, a clear view from the stern of a boat does wonders for perspective.