He looked at it and beamed. Ear to ear, not just a little grin this one…
What a beauty. Wait till they all see this down the golf course. And Steve’s face! Fucking hell, I can’t wait.
He had wanted this for a long while. Call it a teenage ambition realised. Call it a treat for years of hard work. Call it want you want! Some people (her included) can just get SO jealous these days.
She hated it. What a surprise. Always questioning my judgement. Sometimes I do think she does not want me to have any excitement. Prefer it if I spent all my time with the old conies down the local. Drinking beer, getting fat – talking shit!
I really do think she would have been better marrying her bloody brother Dave. Am sure that’s still legal in some American states. Actually, we should have moved to the states like I suggested a few years ago! Bound to be at least one state where that sort of shit is legal. Another dream quashed.
Back to the task at hand Marcus’s inner monologue barked. Don’t let her negativity spoil this moment. She tried her hardest for you not to have it. After all those arguments, may as well enjoy it now.
Click, flash, click flash, click flash.
His latest fresh-out the-box iPhone had picked up every line. Marcus was determined to put his best foot forward – of course.
He had got all the angles he think he needed, including a dozen selfies. Now onto the hard part – editing! Some shit-hot filters on this bit of kit he hummed to himself as he switched the light off and returned triumphantly indoors.
He grunted something about tonight’s tea as he waltzed past his wife Alison, daydreaming of witty social commentary.
A week earlier
“Do we really need another vehicle?” she gently pleaded. “Especially with Tom’s uni fees going up.”
It wasn’t a nag. It was genuine concern, not said in an aggressive way at all.
“Am getting a bonus next quarter you know,” Marcus snapped back. “You worry too much.”
His glaze from the macbook didn’t avert.
Alison let out a gentle sigh. Have not got the energy for an argument tonight anyway. Plus, he will only go and do what he wants – like he always does.
But, fucking hell £20k is a LOT of money!
Wasn’t like this in our courting days.
Alison continued to lament.
He does have some good points and since the op – well, what am……. Don’t go there.
I best start thinking about clearing out the garage!
Alison snapped out of it.
Three weeks later
“C’mon,” Marcus pleaded, “have got cash on the hip. Ready to go!”
“That’s a full £3k under list my friend.” Came back the expected reply, “and what do you want one of these for at your age. You’ll kill yourself.”
It was said to buy some more thinking time, more than anything else. This perma-tanned old fuck is clever, smarmy clever – but clever. The lad almost respectfully acknowledged.
“Hey, don’t be fooled. Plenty and I mean plenty of life in this old dog yet young man. Believe me!”
“Yeah, yeah – but cash is cash. My Mrs is having a baby. I’ve got an extension to fund. You gonna help with that?!”
“OK, OK, we all have our priorities. Am just saying it will save you a lot of time dealing with wasters. Get it all done, go start building then.”
Banter and barter passed – a very good deal was struck.
Off Marcus flew, happy, very happy. Like a hunter/gatherer that had secured his beloved prize at a knockdown rate.
Wait till I show Steve……
Six weeks later
Marcus didn’t want to come to the wedding. Kept her happy, so he thought he had best ….and always an upside……
“OK, Mr flash bastard,” laughed Steve. “It’s very nice, looks better in real life than in all the pissing photos you took”
“Especially the ones with you flexing ya guns – you daft twat!”
Marcus beamed.
“How much then?” Quizzed Steve.
Alison tapped him on his shoulder, “Coming in luv, speeches are starting soon?”
“In a bit hun.” Came back the auto-pilot reply.
Back to real business.
“Let’s just say young Steve. You know me with my gift of the gab – it was a bargain!”
Present day
Marcus looked at his phone. Big crack down one side. He’ll get that fixed next month he thought. Mate down The Crown owes me a favour….
This guy best actually turn up!
He needs this cash. Show Alison he has changed. Give Tom back that money he owes him. Fuck.
His phoned buzzed. A message appeared. Right he’s here.
“Nice bit of kit this. Yeah, am interested.”
“You have certainly looked after it – looks in bloody showroom condition.”
“I bet she’s fast”
The platitudes kept coming…
“Ok – we got a sale then?” Marcus asked, almost nervously, desperate.
“We could have old boi, just one thing.”
“The price?”
A bolt of of deja-vu hit Marcus like a truck. Mind flashed back to when he was about his age. Cocky, haggling for a trinket he didn’t really need…
After a long pause – which was starting to unnerve the young buyer.
Marcus replied.
“The price?”
“Or what it cost.”
Pl@tpav - Telling Stories 