See The Phone book

That probably had been a pretty foolish suggestion from me. “Why not phone the shopkeeper?” I can’t believe I said that. How stupid was I? But in some ways I was counting on the fact that my mother might think the cost of the phone call not worth it. But no. She thought that it would be worth it. There was a phone in the kitchen now. There used to be just the one down the hall, but as the girls got older, an extension was put in the kitchen. Namely, so the girls over-extended calls could be curtailed, simply by picking up the handset and starting to dial. A severe electronic clicking occurred in the earpiece, as the dial returned to it’s starting position. This would immediately be responded to with screams of “I’m on the phone!” Followed immediately by the reply ‘Then get off it!” from whichever parent wanted to use the phone.

My mother stood up and went down the hall to the other telephone. She picked up the phone book and returned to kitchen. “What’s the name of the store?” She asked. I responded immediately. “I don’t know…Walls Store isn’t it?” She looked hard at me. “I don’t think so.” my mother looked down at the book. “No” she replied. “That’s the name of the ice cream they sell”. “Oh.” I said disappointed. “Isn’t it Harley’s?” One of my older sisters spoke out clearly and smiled sweetly. She looked at me innocently. Sure innocent. She knew something was up and didn’t want the fun to end. “I don’t think so.” I said. I looked angrily at her. “Yes”. My mother said looking through the phone book. “Here it is.” My heart sank. She walked from the kitchen and down the hall. The other children were staring at me. My oldest sister looked curiously at me. She wanted to ask, but didn’t. I went to wait at the doorway. I heard my mother dial the number. A short pause and then she hung up and came back. “Go and finish your dinner before it gets cold.” She said to me. I moved around the table and sat down at my dinner. Certainly not as appealing as it had been when I first came in from the cold.

The brief silence was broken by my older sister’s question (the same one who claimed to have had the flat tyre, no lights, and had eagerly provided the shop name). Leaning forward in her seat, and looking at my mother. “So, is the bread seventy cents now?” “Just eat your dinner” My mother said, looking at me as I slowly chewed my first mouthful. “The phone was busy”, She added. Relief. A stay of discovery. All likelihood then that she wouldn’t bother to phone again. I took another mouthful a little happier. “I’ll try them again in a moment” My mother said. I coughed on a mouthful. It may have been a give-away, or, it may not. But my mother looked at me sharply. My situation was about to spiral rapidly downwards in a crash and burn. One phone call, a few short rings away, from yet another self imposed disaster.

(Continued tomorrow)