Free Bob of Small End by David Hockey Page B

had decided
about next year’s holiday. Rose was very interested to learn that
Jenny had sold three sets in two weeks and Jack told him that he
would have to enlarge his workshop if he was going into
mass-production.
    “ I’ve
been thinking about that. Do I need planning permission to make the
shop longer? By about ten feet?”
    “ Naw you
don’t,” said Jack. “But you won’t hav’ much garden
left.”
    “ That’s
okay. I won’t be doing much gardening in the future if my sets
continue to sell.”
    The
conversation shifted to discuss their friends. Jack said that
Bonnie had not heard from Claire. Joe looked at Bob when her name
was mentioned and noted a faint flicker in his eyes. ‘So he still
thinks about her, though I think his infatuation, if that’s what it
was, has diminished.’ He mostly thought that because he’d watched
Bob flirt, in a tentative way, with the unmarried women they met on
the Portugal trip. He told Jane on their flight home that Bob was
beginning to get over Betty’s death and explained why he thought
so. Jane thought he might be right.
    Sunday was a
rest day for Bob. He didn’t go to church. He never had, his parents
were not religious. He just needed a break from his week of work.
He did his laundry and gave his house a good cleaning. That took
most of the morning. After lunch he walked along the Tusset for a
couple of miles, stopped to tell Betty, as he usually did when he
walked past the tree where he dropped her ashes in the river, what
he had been doing since his last visit. Then he took one of the
foot paths that would return him across some fields and through a
couple of woods to Small End. It was a fine day, warm for February
and he enjoyed using his legs after a week in his workshop. The
five miles took him three hours. It would have been less if he
hadn’t stopped to talk to the two farmers he met. He was happily
tired when he arrived home but had enough energy to cook the
salmon, potatoes and peas. Betty’s cookbook stated that grilling
the salmon in the oven was the easiest way to prepare it, so that’s
what Bob did. It was sweet and tasty but too dry. He’d have to make
the sauce that they suggested next time. After supper he watched
television and drank a glass of port.
    Bob woke at
five thirty on Monday morning and lay in bed, asking himself again
if spending most of his time making toys was the right thing to do.
He couldn’t decide so told himself he’d just try it for a while.
He’d increase his toy production and keep a careful record of how
many he made, what they cost to make and how much money they
earned, then, maybe during the summer, decide if he should
continue. Did he want to start a business and travel or did he want
to retire and read? He wouldn’t enlarge the shop until he had made
up his mind about his future.
    During
breakfast he made a To Do list. The first item was ‘Make twelve
train sets,’ thinking that should be enough to last until the
summer. Then, ‘Make ten village sets.’ Then he added, ‘Ask Jack to
design labels for the farm set and the village set.’ Until now Rose
had just sold the farm set in the boxes like the ones he’d bought
without a label. But Jenny, and Rose now, might want something
better. He hoped that Jack would have enough time to do both
labels. One more item went on the list, ‘Ask Rose to order another
hundred boxes.’ That should be enough to last him all year.
    Breakfast
done, Bob began work. He decided it was easiest and quickest to
make all twelve engines first, then make the thirty-six carriages.
That should be quicker than making one set at a time. By five
o’clock he had cut all the engine parts and they were piled in the
cardboard boxes on the shelves. The wheels, boilers and chimneys
were cut from different sized dowel rods. The base and coal boxes
of the train were cut from planks.
    After sweeping
the shop he put a village set in a plastic bag and walked to the
gift shop. Rose and Jack were both