And the Bus Stopped

So I got off. I got off because I was hungry, obviously. Every happenstance has a cause, a reason to be. Let me explain, I was very hungry, I had started work at the Royal County Hotel before dawn; now it was 6:03 p.m. My mind was remembering pieces by famous poets and altering them, trying to distract my attention from my rumbling stomach. I was thinking, “Stands the clock at 6:03; there are no buttered scones for me.”

I had not eaten. Today was a Monday and tips were always bad; BAD, on a Monday. Not eaten, well this wasn’t quite true. I had eaten a slice of pizza and some garlic bread left by the couple in No. 26 who were married, but not to each other! Also, some curry from No. 12; left by a buyer from Mumbai, who was here to strike some new trade deals. Now that Brexit had finally occurred and the pandemic had faded away, trade was picking up fast.

Lastly, I had found three crusts of bread – not very stale. I had used them to mop up gravy left by ‘Little Sexy’ in No. 38. But you cannot call that eating. So why was I not eating? I had money – £205 plus a handful of change I had liberated. This came from beds, litter bins, showers etc. as I changed sheets, cleaned toilets and hoovered an enormous number of rooms. ‘De management’ thought this was a reasonable cleaning target to be worth minimum wage, which, thank goodness, had risen to £12/hr on 01/01/2022.

However, I had promised Mrs. Lett the £200 back rent I owed from last month. This left me the handful of change gleaned from the hotel rooms and the surprise £5 tip ‘Little Sexy’ from 38 had given me for helping her when she came struggling up the corridor with her case. That was a surprise encounter, in several ways. Firstly, I was not aware that she was leaving.

So when I saw her struggling along with her case, I deserted my hoover and went to help her. I had given all the regular hotel customers a nickname and hers was well deserved. Just over 1.5m tall, shoulder length honey-blonde hair, blue eyes that radiated warmth, set in a beautiful face, totally blemish-free skin and as near-perfect figure as I had ever seen. Sadly, she had ‘visitors’. An older chap, in his 40s, came daily. I had nicknamed him PIMPly Joe, for two obvious reasons, and a stream of young men, I called ‘the renters,’ came in the evenings!

Carrying her case, I accompanied her into the lift, across the lobby of the Royal County and out of the door. Then the second surprise. “I can manage from here”, she said, thrusting a five pound note into my hand! Before I could react, her arms wrapped around me; soft lips were pressed against my face; then for a second my lips and I was overwhelmed by the Chanel ‘Chance’ perfume that she was wearing. “Thank you Robert”, she said,” I know you were aware of what was going on. I wish circumstances could have been different”. With her case now on its trolley, she dissolved into the crowd, hastily pulling on her facemask.

So, I was dozing; when the bus stopped, the jerk brought me back to the present. The stop was opposite the fish and chip shop, in front of Kempston Village Hall, and tonight it was open. It wasn’t always, so I decided that it was an omen. I rose to get off. Surprise! ‘Sexy’ went by the bus, pulling her case on the little wheeled trolley; another omen; enough was enough! I went into the chip shop.

There was a big queue this cold evening. The overcrowded inside was steamy and warm. A night to be inside, I thought. I wondered what was ‘Little Sexy’ doing here? She was not from Kempston. I was a local lad, if she had been around while I was growing up, I would not have missed her. Kempston is the biggest village in England, but a woman as attractive as Susan Michelle, to use her proper name, is difficult to miss. While we are at it, who am I? I am Robert Sole, son of Rachel Sole and the absent Ronald Sole. The youngest of three R. Soles, the last in town, mum having disappeared with her latest conquest months ago.

So I was penniless and renting Mrs. Lett’s spare room for £200 per month! Counting my change again, I must not break ‘Sexy’s’ £5, it had to last. Then I dropped some, I knelt down; at my feet was an envelope – full of money, tucked into a little black book. I meant to hand it in, I really did, my excuse – hunger. No address, just 4 words written on page 1; 230 Kempton North runner.

Suddenly two tunnels were in front of me; my life split into these tunnels, which one I took was my choice. So I made my choice. Later while I was eating an enormous dinner there was a knock on the door. It was Susan. The chip shop staff had told her where I lived.

“What made you think of me Susan”, I said as I made some coffee. “I didn’t”, she replied. “When I got a hotel envelope out of my bag to show them what the one I lost looked like, the lady asked if I knew you and said that you lived in her mum’s spare room”. “Oh”, I said, “I was in there earlier and I didn’t see her. That was Grace Iris Bethany Lett, her initials are nearly as unfortunate as mine”. “Why”, said Susan. “Because”, I said, “they are GIB Lett” and I laughed. She didn’t. “What is up?” I asked. “I am in a bit of a mess”, she said. “When I heard where you lived, I came here because I have nowhere else. Please can I stay here tonight?” I put my arms around her. “Of course you can”, I said.

Then I pushed away from her and continued. “However, has your sadness anything to do with this?” I reached into my pocket and dropped the book onto the table. It turned out that PIMPly had left it in her room and she had decided to take it and run. We talked for a while; then she fell asleep on my bed, so I cuddled up with her and slept. In the morning we looked at the book and I realised that it wasn’t the number of a bus to Kempston as she had thought, it was a tip for a horse race; 2:30 p.m. at Kempton – a horse called North Runner, odds of 4:1. We decided to return PIMPly’s money and pretend that when he dropped the book it had fallen into her bag which she was carrying because she had decided to stay at my place overnight! A tale so ridiculous that to my mind it had to be believed! Susan added that I was her cousin, because she said, “I am not supposed to have any other blokes and he won’t believe that I stayed with you and we didn’t unless we are relations”. She was obviously terrified of him, which bothered me.

Since some of the money was gone we had decided on a daring plan, we would bet on ‘North Runner,’ and replace the missing money out of the winnings, simple! We went to the betting shop. Waiting at the counter, I had a thought, “What we need are three more horses”. “You’re crazy”, retorted Susan. But her attitude changed when the horses for the first race were led into the paddock. One of them was named Susan Michelle! We studied the remaining races with renewed interest but nothing caught the eye until the door was flung open by the assistant from the hardware shop next door. “Fred,” he called, “’ere is the bag-o-nails you wanted, he dumped the bag on the counter. “Pay me later” and he ran back out”. Susan pointed a shaking finger. A runner in the 2 p.m. was named Bag-o-Nails!

Frantically we searched the lists; nothing leapt out. “We will have to place the bets in a minute”, I said. Suddenly I was pushed. “Sorry”! I turned. A bloke, obviously drunk, had staggered into me. He mumbled something incomprehensible. “What?” I asked. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained”, he said, and he left.

“Robert”, Susan’s voice was urgent. I left the queue again. She pointed. Last race, last entry was NOTHING VENTURED, NOTHING GAINED at 40:1. “This is weird”, I said, but we bet anyway, lucky 15. At 5.15 p.m. we left the shop, shaking with shock. With PIMPly’s money, our stake money, and $20,000 profit!

PIMPly counted the money 3 times; he had not expected to see it or Susan again. I didn’t want to upset him so we had split the money between us on the way back. After we gave him what he considered to be his, we left ASAP and got on separate buses in opposite directions. As I climbed onto my bus, I decided to go back for her; I glanced to the right; Susan was standing on the stairs on the bus on the other side of the road! She was coming back too, for me!

Suddenly our eyes met, she smiled, lighting up her face like an orchid freshly watered, when the early morning Florida sun first lifts, revitalised from the Gulf of Mexico. Yes, I thought, now I know where $20,000 will take us. The buses drifted past each other; our eyes were locked together. Then a Jaguar pulled out in front of Susan’s bus. It jerked to a halt; mine followed a second later as a couple wandered into the road. So we both got off. Then in the middle of the pathway, we stood there face-to-face an inch apart. “Here”, she said, pushing her 10 grand into my briefcase. “I can’t take this, your bet won it”. “Don’t be silly”, I answered. Your body earned the stake. “That was my fault”, she said. “I should have never fallen under his influence”. She turned away! I couldn’t let her leave; I snatched all 20 grand out and thrust it into her pocket! “You need this to get away”, I shouted at the top of my voice. “I can’t take all this”, she screamed, “Why have you given me all this, what do you expect me to do?” Then my mouth opened and out came, “I gave you it because I love you! Not that it’s enough, I could never have enough; there isn’t enough in the whole world to pay for your love.”

Suddenly an ugly grunting voice intruded and said: “So you bet with my money and forgot to give me the winnings, eh tart?” He pushed up to me. “You can’t have this bitch, boy”, he said. “You’re nowhere near man enough for her!” Something started to churn in my stomach.

Then he turned and said, “I don’t suppose your two customers here will mind if I teach you to do as you’re told first”! Something snapped in my head. I pushed in between them, drew back my left arm and flattened his pimply nose; in fact I hit him so hard that his feet left the ground as he flew backwards. Then he was lying on the pavement, flat-out. Susan was bouncing up and down clapping her hands. “Excellent! Excellent!” she cried.

Later, on the bus, arms wrapped around each other, she said “but where shall we go?” “I have nothing here,” I said, and she said “I have nothing anywhere – tell you sometime”. “OK”, I said, “Well we can go a long way with $20,000. The bus stopped, and we stayed on, obviously!

The End