The Bus Driver. Part 5.

Attempting to bring in some of the different characters here and explore Agatha. This is my attempt to bring in some of the back story to her but not saying much at the same time. Who is this person and why has she taken this role? Hopefully the aim has come across.

—Toffee—

Today was a Wednesday. Agatha sat there at the dining room table with her cup of tea looking at the headlines of the paper, the spark was slowly going each day but it still gave the local news. The soft cushions Andy had added to the chairs didn’t distract her from noticing the developments in the garden, but the thought meant he would be given a day’s reprieve, for now. At least the sun seemed to bring hope to the day ahead as it bounced around the room, the cutlery shined, the picture frames reminded her of happy times and the breeze brought in the smell of cut grass with the summer weather.

‘How long you thinking of doing this job then as a bus conductor?’ Andy would appear to many to be showing support, but the tone resembled the same one that he used when Agatha had tried to take up growing flowers to sell online. 5 years, a lot of the garden taken over and a huge compost pile was the result. Some ideas just didn’t seem to get going after retirement. Something about this idea though was different, which unnerved Andy as he saw the look in her eye.

‘My new career will take as long as I am able’. The reply was as tart as the pie was for dinner the previous evening, but at least the pie had an ending. Andy wondered if this time it was worth trying to hide the new plants arriving at the door, 3 hours early, or just accept that today was not going to be his day.

The last thing he saw of his loving wife that morning was her trip to the door after the doorbell rang and the loud grab of her coat from the banister. He did feel bad, not only were the plants early, but the company sent all his orders in one go, sensible from their part, but having an already annoyed wife see 7 small conifers, 4 bushes, a flat pack table and chair set along with the assortment of flowers for 5 , albeit small, 5 different beds, all arrive at once and being unpacked onto their front lawn. It was going to be a long night after his long day.

He could understand why he was probably going to need to have a warm cup of tea constantly on the side with a new pack of éclairs on table just for the off chance she does come home that day.

Agatha left with thoughts of her husband disappearing for a discussion that would happen later as she pulled into the local shop for what was an undiscussed tradition. It Del would not really speak to her, then she would feed him her favourite sweets, while explaining why they were her favourite. All the ways she has found them across the country from different types of styles, sizes and combinations, to really show why she felt they would brighten up someone’s day.

Her arrival at the yard was much the same as yesterday. Although this time she made a comment on the fish smell to Tom and suggested that the uniform should be washed before given to new members of staff. His response, ‘Just make sure the pockets don’t shrink!’ seemed to suggest a different focus.

Never had Agatha ever met someone so obsessed about pockets. What difference would it make she began to wonder, however, she had a plan for the day and that mystery would have to wait.

Agatha strolled up to the bus, which, as the day before, was ready and the radio was on. The jeans were the same but to some surprise, the t-shirt was changed. Shortly after they pulled away, she turned to him to begin her plan for the day and began to share her sweets with him. This seemed to give no response apart from a hand appearing sometimes to collect a few more before pulling away for the next stop. Progress was progress, and it should never be ignored.

After some time, it was time for part 2 of her plan. ‘Del’, Agatha whispered, ‘how good are you at keeping secrets?’

To her surprise it was this comment that seemed to have broken the silence. Slightly hurt that he didn’t seem interested in the way people make toffee on the coast of Cornwall but pleased to have some when she first arrived at the bus. ‘Secrets are best kept if people don’t share them’. It may not have been words to write home about, but it was only 10.30am, already better than yesterday.

‘Well’, she continued, choosing to ignore the implied I don’t care in his tone. ‘I am starting to think that Tom has a point about the pockets. Once you get used to where each coin goes it is quite a good little system to keep order.’

The pause seemed to stretch as far as the last 3% on a phone battery. Agatha became increasingly aware that the bus pulled into the next stop in the usual ease and nothing was changing.

‘Tom has always liked order.’ To her surprise Del was now sitting facing her, eye to eye with a sense of warmth to his look. It was clear that Del took pride in describing Tom. ‘He has always liked to make things work, to add up. Don’t get me wrong, the guy is a complete nerd. No seriously, he collects figures, paints them and sets them out on display set distances apart. If you move one he won’t speak to you for a week.’

Del continued air of mischief, ‘if you really want to see him lose it, move 3 of them and turn one of those 3 around 45 degrees. However, because he can’t do things as odds, he will search until he has found a 4^th that is out of place. Which there won’t be’. Del sat back ready to pull away from the bus stop as the new passengers joined the bus. His smile seemed to show he had done this, more than once, and the response had never failed to impress him.

Agatha sat there, intrigued at what she had heard, she couldn’t work out if she was more shocked by the prankster Del had shown himself to be, that fact Tom was a collector as obsessed as her own brother, or that Del was talking. Either way she enjoyed the brief moment until he turned back to driving the bus and left her sat there on the front seat seeing the husk of a driver with all the mischief and joy drained away.

The new passengers were Jo and Tracy. Friends who appeared to have a very different dress sense to each other but were chatting the day away. It was again that Tom’s system seemed to work as the change came in and out so quickly.

The day continued much the same as the day before. Although, lunch was different. Yesterday, Del had driven back to the bus station and sat on the bus on his own. Today he found a spot by the local hills looking out. There was a quiet stream trickling past and a bench sat where the stream meandered round a boulder. Del sat there eating his sandwich without saying a word. Looking out to the view as the time ticked by. His thoughts looked out to the horizon, almost past what was there.

Agatha sat on the seat. For the first time since joining the bus she didn’t try to speak. With the sun high in the sky the water glistened under the clear sky. The space filled with the quiet spot and as she closed her eyes she began to remember the scene from years before. Memories merged with dreams for a moment, she was there again.

‘Agatha?’, the words shuddered her from her sleep as if she stumbled into the boulder outside. Del was standing there checking she was ok. She realised her packet of crisps was over the floor as she had fallen asleep in the moment. She quickly picked up her crisps and tried to quietly wipe her face clear in the chaos that had happened in the quiet moment.

The afternoon passed uneventful as both driver and conductor continued completing their jobs in silence. As the bus drove into the station Agatha told Del how many tickets she had sold and walked off the bus before Del even turned off the engine. She handed in her change to Tom and took the jacket home to wash. Neatly folded on the passenger seat she drove home on the quiet streets.

It was as she drove in that she found Andy sat on the floor planting the final shrubbery in the front garden looking tired and sweaty. He prepared himself for what he had been fearing all day. Knowing the chairs and table hadn’t even been unpacked and most of the flowers were still in their containers in the back. The washing up hadn’t been done as he had slept through lunch needing a midday nap and dinner was only just starting to defrost. Agatha walked over to him leaving the gate open, knelt down and hugged him.

There had been times when he knew that comments, pokes or silly actions were not needed. He didn’t need to worry about the soil covering his hands getting into her hair, messing up her top or the fact that he clearly had overdone it today, again. He knew he would be told off eventually. Right now he just hugged her back and waited until the right time to go run a bath and put the kettle on. He didn’t need to ask, he knew why she began to cry. He would never say ‘I told you so’, but this is why he feared he the moment would find he to say it.

Continue the story with Part 6.