Italian Job 3/Dawn 1 – The Airport

I got to Heathrow airport in plenty of time for my flight to Rome which was at 10.50. I did the old automated check in and as going well until I ran the gauntlet of British Airport security. What a load of old bollocks that is. I will give British Governments their due, and this is a cross party statement, they certainly know how to fuck about and increase the fear factor where it does not need to be increased. I was searched, if that’s what you can call it by some officious prick aged about 976 who told me it was in my interests. I have fuck all idea why he told me that, because I had not said anything to him. Clearly a case of answering the question that had not been asked. As it is anyone with half a brain could down and aircraft with very little effort. Still nice to know the DW and his allies are going strong on terrorism. I asked an American Politician about how this all stood with the help and aid that the IRA got during the 70’s and 80’s fromm the States. His reply was “That was different they were fighting an oppressive regime” – To which I replied “You mean the regime that is doing a lot of the dirty work for Uncle Sam now” He clearly did not know what the fuck to say so he did what all politicains do and ignored it.

Anyway, having been declared safe to travel by Old Father Times Granddad with my Aftershave, toothpaste and deodorant securely sealed in a freezer bag I was airside. Time to get some grub. I had a fat boys breakfast and a pot of tea and read my magazine Mercenary World or whatever it was. Its one of those mags that “Builds up into a fascinating library for you to keep and treasure and pass on to your loved ones. Free severed head with issue…..” all in all the world was looking a very rosy place indeed.

It was Rosy anyway until my mobile bleeped o say I had a message from young jack my nephew. I did not know it but this was the start of my week going tits up. I listened to the message and he didn’t sound too happy.

For some reason my mobile would not connect for ages but eventually I got through and Jack answered the phone.

“Hello who is it calling please” said Jack in that very prime and precise way kids have of answering the telephone.

“Hello Jack its uncle Norman, how you doing?”

“You rang me!” He said in a croak

“Of course I rang you, what’s the problem, you didn’t sound too happy on your message.”

“Well I err …..Its silly don’t worry, but thanks for ringing me.”

“Hang on a mo young man, you didn’t just ring me for no reason, what’s up?”

“You don’t want to know your busy, I am sorry it was really silly”

“Jack” I said in my sternest UN voice “I do want to know, what is the problem”

“You wont be cross”

“I wont be cross”

“Promise”

“Jack if you don’t spit it out I will be bloody livid now what the ffuuuurrry animals is going on”

He laughed ” Naughty words get you in trouble Uncle Norman, I’ll tell grandma”

He went silent

“Well what is it?” I said

“I dreamt you were dead” He whispered “You were lying in the dirt you were wearing a greeny browny shirt like soldiers wear and the front was all torn and there was a hole and there was blood and and and there were these men and they werre laughing and one of them kicked you over and and and there was a bigger hole in you back and all the blood was coming out making mud in the dirt and there was bits and bone and and and and…….”I think he had run out of breath.

“And what” I said calmly

“I wet the bed Uncle Norman” his voice quivered and it sounded like he was fighting the urge to cry.

“Thanks for thinking of me Jack, I really appreciate it”

“But you were dead” he gasped still fighting the tears. In my minds eye I could see him in the hallway his little face all serious and biting his lip and does this thing of rubbing hisĀ  right leg with his hand when he is thinking or upset.

“Ah yes but only in your dream. You see Jack you were thinking about me and worrying about me. That’s good for me, but hard for you. I am sorry you wet the bed because of me, but I am really pleased that you think of me when I am away. If I am ever in a tight spot or feeling lonely, and I can tell you I do get lonely, I can look up at the moon and I will know that my mate Jack is thinking about me. How many people can say that?” He didn’t reply “Now then I am not dead am I?”

“No” He said

“I will be one day and so will you for that matter and there is sod all you and I can do about that, so best we dont worry about things we cannot control. Anyway I don’t intend to die for sometime yet”

“Humm”

“What did your mum say about the bed?”

“Nothing, that’s the really funny thing” there was a pause “Actually Uncle Norman its not funny, ……that’s the other thing I want to talk to you about” he went on hesitantly.

Now then I as I have explained in previous posts, Dawn, that’s Jacks mum, and I don’t really see eye to eye, in fact we don’t like each other. She is a self opinionated self righteous, shit don’t stink, grumpy cow….not to put too fine a point on it. I suspect she speaks highly of me as well!

She used to go friggin ape shit at Mad Jack the Bed Wetter when he had his little accidents. I know its a pain in the arse having to strip the bed and get the stuff washed and dried, but with washing machines, driers and plastic sheets, I just cannot see what the big deal is. He has done it at my place when he has stayed over with the others and so I have dealt with it, I am not just yakking from an observers point of view.

“What’s the problem with your mum then Jack is she OK?”

“Well I dunno” he said. “She spend ages at her computer, but in the last few days she has being crying a lot when she types and well I dunno” he sounded perplexed.

“Where is your mum now Jack?”

“She is in the study on the computer”

“Right then should I have a chat with her?”

“Oh I dunno”

“Don’t, T T T, its don’t know not dunno” I said through gritted teeth.

“Sorry Uncle Norman”

“Go and get her and I will have a chat to her. Hey before you go Jack, two things. I am off to Italy for a few days. Nothing dangerous just a bit of business and I will be home in a few days, how about I see if we can get together at Grandmas or do something the next weekend”

“Yeah that would be great, but what about the bed, everyone will laugh at me again?”

“Its not a problem my old mate, its a one off, you haven’t done it for ages have you?”

“No I haven’t” He said with some confidence

“Anyway” I continued “Grandma wont be bothered, but if you’re worried about the others you can come in with me and I’ll cover for you.”

“Wicked I’ll get mum” He enthused and I heard the phone crash on to the table. It was then snatched up again “Uncle Norman ….I am glad you’re not dead and thanks for ringing me back wherever you are. I will look at the moon tonight and think of you see ya”

“Yeah see you in the next day or so”

I heard him calling his mum and A few minutes later and I heard Dawn, Jacks mum, pick up the phone.

“Hello” she sounded really croaky and hoarse.

“Hello Dawn its Norman are you Okay?” I said as tactfully as I could. I expected a “piss off” or “I hoped you were dead”, but instead she started to sob quietly and gently down the phone.

“Hey up chicken it can’t be that bad” I said using my best consoling voice. I think I might need to practice the consoling voice bit, because apparently it was that bad and worse. Her quiet sob became a wail and eventually she wailed “OH Norman I have been such a bloody fool I have ruined everything”

Being a genius in matters of the human condition, I suspected that this was not good news.

One Response to “Italian Job 3/Dawn 1 – The Airport”

  1. John Humphries says:

    Sounds like a”Oh my god I must confess all” situation.

Leave a Reply

You must be logged in to post a comment.