
Growing up in the 50s and 60s we had the ‘gas cupboard’ under the stairs. It doubled as a cloakroom and shoe cupboard. So, giving me inspiration for this short story. A comedy/tragedy
Baz Baron
Hangin’ round’ ere for three weeks is no fun I can tell you. It’s not as if I can see what’s goin’ on either. Pitch black in here.
Not like, Andy to keep me locked up out of sight…well can’t blame ‘im – it’s mother! She put me in ‘ere – out of sight, she always complained, “Andy, for ‘eavens sake, tek that grimy cloth cap off will yer”.
Well, thanks, mother! I used to get right peeved off at that, we might not be able to move about on our own or do stuff. But, we do have feelings y’ know. “The minute, you stuck me in this gas cupboard you crossed the line. There, rant over.
Now, where was I? – Ah! Yes.
Allus been good with the doms as our, Andy; cors I ‘ad a birds-eye view as always. Never teks me off his head, ‘cept mebbe when he has swill, even then. It’s onny forra minute or two. We wer at Wheel Tappers y’ see, aye… Go on Andy, get that double two darn and you’ve cracked it.
Sid’s no two’s left, Bob’s no threes, so your last card’s a three-two. Gonna get you the ten bob, me owld lad. He whistled all’ t way ‘ome he did. Said to mother when we got in, “ere yar chuck, go ta chippy, we’ll have a right owld fish supper tonight sev you cooking”.
‘Ey up, doors opening, what’s to do, mother? Nah ven, where you tekking me? Mother why you pushing me into your face like that?
“I say old bean don’t fret, everything will be fine, you’ll see”.
That’s easy for you to say, you’re a ‘toff’ anyway, and how come I’ve not seen you hung up in the Wheel Tappers.
“Don’t worry old chap, it’s quite painless I should imagine. All you have to do is sit tight ’til we get there”.
Get where…Where we going, what’s going on? Andy, where are you when I need you?
My, these chrysanths smell sweet, Andy’s favourite, mebbe we’re off t’ flower show, where’s Andy though?
Ey up, now what’s to do, who’s this lot dressed in black, why are they crying?
Hey, Toff, why’d your man put me on this box?
“Don’t worry. Now sit there and be quiet…pleeease”.
What’s that bump? Why we sliding?
Gone black.
Argh! We’re on fire. Andy…help!