Fast Fiction: Eckford
So the bank manager parks his car, at Eckford’s suggestion, behind the bakery, where it can stay all day, free. But when he returns the car is not there. Read Richard Mallinson’s story, then decide whether or not the manager will regret his decision.
'Can you give me a lift to the bakery?' asks Eckford.
'Jump in,' I say.
'I'm late,' he says, settling his bulk.
'Are you a good baker?' I ask.
‘This is my first week.'
I pull up outside the bakery.
'Drive round the back,' he says, 'you can leave your car there, all day, free.'
'I may as well.'
After parking I walk down the street to the bank where I am the manager. I tell Hilda, my assistant, about leaving the car at the bakery.
'Why've you done that?' she says.
I tell her about Eckford and she says, 'I wouldn't trust him.'
Then she wants to know when she's going to get her pay rise. I say I will discuss it with her another time.
Then she asks whether I am going to tell my wife about us or should she.
‘That's blackmail,' I say.
At 5.30 pm I leave the bank and walk up the street to the bakery and round the back but there is no sign of the car.
I walk to the front and go in and say to a man, 'Is Mr Eckford here?'
'Nobody of that name ere, mate,' he replies.
Outside I see Hilda coming towards me with that strenuous walk of hers.
My mobile rings and my wife says that she is going away with Eckford and they are already on the motorway (in my car) and she hopes I'll find somebody else and I mustn't make a big fuss about all this.
'Well,' I say to Hilda when she reaches me, 'you can't blackmail me any more,' and she says, 'Does that mean what I think it means?' and she hugs me and kisses me, right there, in the street, with people watching.
