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Authors: David Hockey

Tags: #creativity in business, #romance 1990s

Bob of Small End (9 page)

BOOK: Bob of Small End
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At home, after
a quick ham sandwich and a mug of tea he went to his shop having
decided what he should do. He’d make two village sets, one for Rose
and one for Jenny. Then make train sets for Jenny. ‘She’ll probably
want some more farm sets so I’ll have to make more of them.’

He sat on the
stool and took his village sketches from the drawer under the
bench. The village sets he had planned would have five simple
houses, three larger ones, four shops with a single window and two
with a double window, one church, one pub, one post office, one bus
stop with a bench for waiting, and lengths of small and large
hedges. ‘All this may be too much,’ he thought, as he looked at the
drawings. ‘It’ll probably take too long to make. They’d have to
sell for twenty five or thirty pounds to make it worth while. I’ll
have to think about this.’ He took down a length of house-sized
wood, long enough to make ten small houses, and began shaping
it.

He stopped
working at seven. It was dark and his light was not really strong
enough for working on small details and he was tired. He’d done
enough for one day. He’d made all the houses. He made the larger
ones using the same production-line technique and just glued on an
entrance porch and a conservatory. The houses hadn’t been sanded or
painted but he’d try to paint at the end of each day so they could
dry overnight and he could add the second coat when he next
painted.

He decided to
have his supper at the pub. He could tell Len about his holidays
and that he was now selling his toys in Big End. That would
interest him.

Supper, two
pints, speaking to those in the pub filled the evening. At 9:30 he
said ‘Good night’ to Len. “It’s time for bed. I’ve lots to do
tomorrow.”

After Bob had
left Len commented to the two men they had been chatting with, “I
wonder what changed his mind? Before Christmas he was happy to be
retired and his wood-carving was just a hobby. Now it seems like
he’s a different man. He’s got more energy and drive. It’s like
he’s ten years younger.”

Bob was back
at his bench at seven on Wednesday with a table light taken from
Regina’s bedroom shining on his work. On the calendar that his
insurance agent had given him for Christmas he wrote “6-V” on
Tuesday’s square to note how many hours he had been making village
sets. He would also note how much wood and paint he used. ‘I’d
better do that to know exactly what each set costs to make,’ he
told himself.

With short
coffee and lunch breaks and no tea break, he was able to write
“10-V” on Wednesday’s square. Then he thought he should also record
what parts of the set he had made during this time and wrote
“houses” for Tuesday and “shops, church, pub and post office” for
Wednesday and put “2” in a circle to note that he had made two
sets. ‘I can probably finish all the other parts tomorrow,’ he
thought, ‘and I’ll sand them on Friday then start painting.’

He was right
about the time, he did finish the set on Thursday. The hedges still
took a long time to make but he knew they were important; they
greatly improved the appearance of the village when positioned.
Friday morning he took everything outside and sanded them. Luckily
it was a warmish and dry day; after lunch he gave the set its first
coat of paint.

He had given
everything a second coat of paint by lunch-time on Saturday and was
tired and ready for a break. It had been a very busy week,
something Bob had not experienced in the last few years. However he
had to do his weekly Big End shopping so he took the bus there
after lunch.

Since he
didn’t have the train or village sets to give Jenny he didn’t enter
the shop but looked in the window. There it was, one of his farm
sets, complete with animals, right in the centre of the display.
Two boys were looking in the window. Bob couldn’t see if they were
looking at the farm so he moved a little nearer to hear if they
mentioned it, but they were talking about the electronics kit; one
of them wanted to build a radio and was telling the other boy that
he had asked his Dad to buy the kit for his birthday.

Bob pulled out
his shopping list. Ah, yes, last night he had wondered if there
were quick-drying paints and had added “Art shop” to his list. They
might know if there was such a thing. If there was he might be able
to do all the painting in one day.

At the shop
the assistant told him about acrylics. “That’s a quick-drying paint
and it comes in many bright colours. Here, look at this box.”

Bob liked what
he saw and bought a cheap student’s set to experiment with. He put
the receipt carefully in his shirt pocket; he would need it when he
did his book-keeping and completed his income tax return. His next
stop was at the building suppliers. He thought he might be able to
make twenty farm sets, twenty village sets and twenty train sets
during the next two months and had made a list of the wood he’d
need. He gave them the list, paid for the wood and was told they’d
deliver it next Wednesday. His last job was to shop for the foods
he couldn’t buy in Small End. He went to the fish shop and was told
there wasn’t enough demand for them to carry fresh sardines so he
bought two salmon filets. At the supermarket he bought a package of
frozen white fish then caught the three o’clock bus home.

At the Crown
that night he told Joe and Jane what he had been doing and repeated
much of it when Rose and Jack joined them. Joe wanted to know why
he had decided to do so much. Jane wanted to know if he 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 there and watched as he placed
the pieces on the counter.


There’s
lots of different ways to make the village,” Bob explained. “It’ll
keep children busy for ages.”


Yes I
can see that. I like it and want some.”


Good.
Oh, Jenny told me she would like to sell train sets as well as the
village sets. Jack, could you design some sample labels for the
village and train boxes? I’d like fifty of each and this time I’m
going to pay for them. Rose, could you order me another hundred
boxes please, the same size as before. Oh, and some rolls of tissue
paper to wrap the small parts in. I don’t know how much paper I’d
need. Could you decide that?”


All
right. My, you’ll be busy! Are you sure you want all this extra
work? You’re very different these days from the way you’ve been
during the last three years.”


Yes, I
know. I was a bit of a slow-poke then and I seem to have woken up.
I feel more energetic now.”


I’ll
call t’train set
t’Small End Train
Set
, eh?” asked Jack.


Yes.
We’ll use the Small End tag on everything I make. Oh can you make
me a business card? Here is a sketch showing the information and
how I’d like it to be laid out. I don’t know if you can put a small
photo or a drawing of a train in the corner. If not don’t worry, I
just though it would be nice if you could add a picture of some
kind.”


I’ll
try som’in.”

Tuesday
morning Bob shaped the long blocks from which he’d cut the base and
the body of the carriages. He cut them into the parts for
thirty-six carriages in the afternoon and cut the wheels from a
large dowel rod. It didn’t take very long and he sanded everything
afterwards. Now the painting.

Painting
always took the longest for he had to paint the body, roof, doors,
windows and wheels of each carriage and the body, wheels, chimney,
coal and a few decorative lines on each engine. The problem was he
could only paint colours that didn’t touch each other. The ones
that met he had to wait until the first coating was dry which meant
he had to leave them overnight. However the wheels were quick to
paint even though there were a lot of them because they were only
one colour. Hopefully acrylic paint would be the answer.

He had a quick
supper then returned to his shop. It was time to find out how the
acrylic paint looked and how quickly it dried. He wanted to know
how long he’d have to wait before adding the next colour. He took
an old piece of wood from the waste bin opened the acrylic set and
painted six strips of red along the wood. He looked at the clock.
After five minutes he painted a strip of white on the first strip
of red. No, that was too quick, the red smeared. He waited another
five minutes then painted some white on the second red stripe. That
was much better. In fact there was almost no smearing and the
colours were bright, almost vivid and very attractive. After
another five minutes he could paint lines and strips on a red
stripe and they kept their shape. ‘This is great! Now what does
water do to the paint?’ It had to be waterproof since small
children would be playing with the toys. He put a few drops of
water on one of the red stripes and rubbed it with the end of his
paint brush. The paint smeared. ‘Oh no, that’s no good, but maybe I
put the water on too soon. I’ll let them dry overnight and see what
happens in the morning.’

The first
thing Bob did when entering his workshop Wednesday morning was put
some water on the previous night’s paint job. Keeping his fingers
crossed he scratched the paint with his finger nail. Nothing
happened. He scratched harder, pushing against one of the thin
lines. It wasn’t affected. Excellent! That meant he could paint the
base coats of all the carriages, then paint all the doors, then all
the windows and the roof and, with care, the paint wouldn’t smear
and it wouldn’t hurt if children wet them. He thought about how
he’d manage the work and soon decided he would place them in a line
and paint from left to right. Then return to the one on the left
and paint the second coat on top, in fact, he could add a third or
fourth coat, one after the other. That should do it and it looked
as if it would take only a half-day to paint all of the carriages
if he did that!

BOOK: Bob of Small End
8.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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