The Dig Street Festival by Chris Walsh

Author:Chris Walsh [Walsh, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Contemporary, Humour
ISBN: 9781916112308
Publisher: Louise Walters Books
Published: 2021-04-14T23:00:00+00:00

35

A CALL TO MARBELLA

Having safely stowed the lawnmower alongside its shining friends, I headed to the front of the store. It was seven fifteen – easily enough time to make a couple of calls ahead of the arrival of The Mob, as Dave liked to put it.

I walked on tiptoes to the empty customer services desk, took out my wallet, and drew out a scrap of paper with Tim’s number on, and the yellowed business card Mr Kapoor had given me when I’d first moved in. Who to call first? I decided upon Mr Kapoor, that being the more difficult. I’d call Tim for dessert. The ring tone struck me as odd; more of a buzz. It went on for some time before someone picked it up.

‘Yes?’ said a far-away voice.

‘Hello,’ I said, ‘it’s John Torrington, from Clements Markham House.’

‘John!’ said Mr Kapoor. ‘How is my graduate?’

‘I’m OK.’

‘What can I do for you, Mr Torrington?’

‘It’s about Clements Markham House.’

‘How are the building works progressing? Do you like the design?’

‘I was thinking, what I’d like to do…’

‘Hang on a second, Mr Torrington…’ I could hear him in the background ordering coffee, croissants, and orange juice.

‘Sorry, Mr Torrington,’ said Mr Kapoor. ‘Where were we?’

‘Where are you, Mr Kapoor?’

‘Marbella,’ he said. ‘So, Mr Torrington, what can I do for you?’

This threw me – as well as having realised I was bank-rolling the building works, it was now also clear I’d secured Mr Kapoor a city-break in the sun. I continued. ‘I… I want to buy Clements Markham House.’

‘You do?’ said Mr Kapoor. ‘Hang on a second, Mr Torrington, let me just put my phone on loudspeaker so we can discuss this further with my associates.’

The call wasn’t quite progressing as I’d imagined. I realised now that I hadn’t imagined the call at all. But had I, it would have been a simple case of me telling Mr Kapoor that I wanted to buy the house – Mr Kapoor would say yes, and I would thenceforth be the proud owner. I grew hot and embarrassed at the hard light the actual call was throwing upon my poor knowledge of how the world worked. How did people find this stuff out? Why didn’t I know it? I knew lots of other things. I knew, for example, that one of Kaiser Wilhelm II’s ministers died of a heart attack while performing a pas seul for his master, wearing a tutu.

‘Would you repeat your offer for my associates, please, Mr Torrington?’ asked Mr Kapoor.

I cringed. ‘I was just saying that I’d quite like to… make an offer on Clements Markham House. Please.’

There was a torrent of laughter.

‘He did say please!’ said someone.

‘Is it the one with the poems?’ asked someone else. Mr Kapoor said it was.

‘And how much are you willing to offer me, Mr Torrington?’ asked Mr Kapoor.

‘Three hundred,’ I said, thinking leaving off the thousand might be talking their language.

More laughter.

‘Three hundred pounds?’ said Mr Kapoor. ‘Mr Torrington, I shall have to consider your offer very carefully!’

‘Thousand!’ I supplied.

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