The Bus Driver. Part. 2

The main focus of this section is the relationship between Agatha and Andy. Their routine and trying to bring in part of the story about how they have come to be there without actually telling the reader why they are in this new area of the country.

I have tried to use small items in the description to ‘show not tell’ about the morning, the imagery of what is happening and the two characters. I have no doubt that their relationship is based more factually on a few people I know that I care to admit, but one that I have always admired between people.

—The First Day—

One of the benefits of retirement is not needing an alarm clock. The peaceful breathing that arose from the bed, the steady rise and fall of each chest with the occasional snore had taken place in their bedroom to a routine that can only develop with the ease of two people who have been there for decades. Thankfully even with the recent move, Andy and Agatha had settled quickly to their new home. This morning that would be one difference, Agatha was awake. She watched the clock tick by as the seconds passed by.

Tick. Tock. Tick Tock.

At one point she swore the second hand paused, moved backwards and then paused again. She was about to get up to check the batteries but then it moved forward and 3 minutes had actually passed.

Even with the knowledge of the alarm they both jumped up before their bodies caught them to drag their bones back to the creaking of joints and sleepy muscles. Agatha was in the ensuite room before she realised her slippers were on the wrong way round. Andy sat there wondering what day it was and if it was too early for sarcasm. He was about to say something, but the bathroom door closed so felt the answer with the shaking of the walls.

Realising that the alarm had been set for at least 30 minutes earlier than needed, he set himself the challenging task of seeing that there were no new messages on his phone from anyone and felt there was little excuse to stay in bed that would have kept him out of trouble.

Downstairs the kettle turned on and a few rashes of veggie bacon began there warming process. Andy refused to say cooked as the bloody slips never seemed to even change colour. He may not have supported his wife’s new career choice, but he was not going to let her go out without something resembling a good breakfast. His own breakfast would be cooked after she left as the real bacon would get him told off and he had enough plans for the garden for that without the discussion of bacon to add to it. Andy may have missed this year’s growing season, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him preparing and sorting out the herb garden and the seeds ready for Autumn and to the broad beans to overwinter.

After the third expletive to come from upstairs Andy decided to make his way upstairs to see if he could help, however, before he could get to the door the stairs were being pounded as if a dragon descended.

‘Well that hair drier does not have the same power than it used to’

Agatha rushed into the kitchen, her hair half finished with a look that generally meant hold back sarcasm. She was about to start rushing around the kitchen when she saw the table had been laid. A glass of orange juice, one cup of lemon balm tea next to a ‘bacon’ sandwich with extra brown sauce were waiting for her with a knife and fork set either side. All on top of a flowery place mat. Agatha leapt into Andy’s arms to give him a hug. From Andy’s perspective, this hug meant a wallop to the face of wet hair with an earing poking his nose, but the sentiment was felt, with a slight twinge in his back.

Before they knew it, it was time to go. Agatha took a deep breath and went to walk out the door. Andy’s parting words stuck with her as she walked out.

‘You don’t have to do this’.

He had stayed strong with his support over breakfast , but when he kissed her cheek with those words he was unsure if he was going for sarcasm, annoyance or his brain slipped it out after being on his best behaviour all morning.

He knew she could not resist nor would he have been able to really stop her. It was by chance that the advert was there, and by the same chance that she got the job.

With the closing of the garden gate the bacon was laid in the pan and as Andy poured on the brown sauce, the garden centre delivery van pulled up.

At least that didn’t arrive before she left.

Continue the story with Part 3.