accidents

Tuesday Tale 925 – Alarm

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 12 Comments

Oh Damn, isn’t it always the way, you call in to do a quick job and it turns out the customer is dead. Very thoughtful of her to leave the front door ajar. If it had been locked I could just have rung the doorbell and told the boss nobody was in.

Yes I am certain she is dead, face a strange colour. No I haven’t called anybody yet, would just be my luck to get the blame and I have twenty more homes to visit, twenty more carbon monoxide detectors to fit in the boss’s rental properties. If I don’t get them all done that’s a morning’s pay gone. Property inspection panic going on, so if I fit the alarm and quietly slip away, it will look like she died after my visit.

I suppose gloves would have been handy in case they call in forensics, but she doesn’t look murdered, just dead.

I thought I heard a creak upstairs, but can’t be anyone else here, surely they would have noticed a body in the hall? Maybe a cat, no the landlord doesn’t allow pets, except rats. What a place, she’s better off dead than living here I reckon. All his tenants would never believe their landlord is an MP, bet he would not let his mother live in a place like this, though I have seen worse, some of his other properties.

Today’s lark all started with a scare in the news, some do-gooding new MP stands up in The House and rattles on about the plight of her constituents in substandard housing. Family taken to hospital with carbon monoxide poisoning, calling for all landlords to have carbon monoxide detectors fitted in their properties. Anyway, the boss is worried his tenants might be alerted. They don’t know he is an MP of course, not any idea who he is. Big Dave deals with all complaints and they don’t usually complain again.

Oh damn, that’s the plaster crumbling, how am I supposed to get this bloody thing fixed on the wall?

Door bell? Hell, I’ve got to get out of here fast. Lucky the back door’s unlocked, bad luck I’m stuck in this four foot back yard. Stuck in this yard with an angry dog. Whoever is in the house is going to investigate furious barking. Only way out is over the fence, thank God everything in this property is broken. OW! Dog at my ankle, I’m going over. Can’t get my footing, dog attached to my ankle, we’re rolling down a hill, no a railway embankment and a train coming, how much worse is my morning going to get?

…and finally in tonight’s news a body has been found in a rental property belonging to an MP.   Police were called this morning by a shocked neighbour to a terraced property in West London. Police say there were no suspicious circumstances, but the death came to the attention of the media when it was revealed the dead pensioner was a constituent of the MP, who only two days ago stood up in The Commons to draw attention to the unsafe conditions many of her constituents live under. Our reporter spoke this evening to MP Marlina Pontefract outside the shabby row of terraced houses where the tragedy occurred.

‘Is it true that these properties actually belong to a fellow MP?’

‘I can’t comment on that as I don’t have the facts, but whoever is responsible for these properties has a lot of questions to answer.’

You have to laugh don’t you. I would love to see my boss, or rather ex boss, answering some awkward questions. Come on Marlina, I bet you do know who he is. Well I never got any more work done this morning, that’s why I got the sack. Ended up in casualty, lucky to get away with a broken ankle and a tetanus shot. The dog wasn’t so lucky, straight under the train. It was slowing down for the station, jammed the brakes on. You should have seen the driver’s face when I looked up from the track. All those rescue teams just for me. I told them I was trying to rescue my run away dog.

So here I am, foot up… travel news, wonder if…

There were delays at Paddington Station for commuters after an incident with a local train. A railway spokesman reminded dog owners that it was never safe to try and rescue your dog from a railway line.

‘The sad fact is, it is easier to clean up a dog from the line than a human.’

So that was my moment of fame, just as well they didn’t bother to mention me as I was not dead. Let’s catch up with the late night news.

…and we’re just hearing the MP Anthony Saint has been named as the MP who owns substandard rental properties where a woman was found dead this morning. We were unable to contact him for comment.

Meanwhile, police have confirmed that the unnamed woman died of carbon monoxide poisoning and they will now await the coroner’s full report...

There’s an irony, but at least they can’t accuse me of murder.

 …but would still like to speak to anyone who has visited the deceased or been in that vicinity recently. It is believed the woman lived alone at that address and had been dead for at least forty eight hours.

Can’t link me to her death, but it’s not going to look good if anyone finds out I was there this morning, oh damn…

Thursday Thoughts

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 26 Comments

The monthly coffee morning at our little local library is different each time. We never know who might turn up, how many or what we might be doing. Could be a talk, a quiz, scrabble on the table…. This morning there were some new faces including a small, lively elderly lady with a large son. She told us he was an autistic savant and asked which of us knew the day of the week we were born, but don’t say it out loud. Then we each told him our date of birth and he got the day right every time.

How? Was it memory or a mathematical formula. With 52 weeks in a year plus one day, we know our days move by one each year, except for leap years… It only took him a few moments to come up with his answers. I have to admit that one lady gave her daughter’s birth date and he said Tuesday, she said it wasn’t. Asked again he said Tuesday. I asked her what time of day and she said noon, which precluded a date vagueness around midnight… She was a new person we didn’t know; was she telling the truth, perhaps she misremembered…

He also remembered the football match results for any date you named, but unless you are a football fan that is not so interesting. His mother said unfortunately he couldn’t predict future results, only remember past, so winning the football pools was just a dream. Finally she said ‘Okay, he’s done his party trick we’re off now.’ And off he went with his eight library books.

Most of us, if we fly from a busy airport, probably don’t know the make, model and safety record of the plane we are going on. We don’t even see what it looks like on the outside. Perhaps there are apps and websites to go on, I haven’t flown for years so don’t ask me. I certainly know that members of my extended family have flown safely over most continents. If you had access to information that your type of plane often had lose bolts, just like the one whose panel and window fell / was sucked out, at least you could make an informed choice.

Also having a lucky escape were the passengers on the Japanese plane colliding on landing with a small plane which sadly wasn’t so lucky. Do you have trouble finding, doing up and undoing your seat belt when someone offers you a lift in a car you are unfamiliar with? That would be me on the Japanese plane. With my dyspraxic hands I would never get undone in ninety seconds let alone get out, down the chute, film what was happening on my phone and manage not to drop the phone on the way out. Find out the names of the cabin crew and book them for your next flight, they got everyone out safely.

Have you been to a cat café? My Aussie relatives have been on a mega Euro holiday. Having been on husky sleds and met the real Father Christmas, going to a cat café in London was one of the last treats for my great niece. Her aunty booked a table for afternoon tea and it cost £lots, but as cat lovers it was worth it apparently. Coincidentally I had just been down an internet rabbit hole to see what happened to the kitten that didn’t stop growing. Disappointingly it did not turn out to be an albino lion and eat the owner, but an affectionate very large Maine Coon. So I recognised the rather scary, very fluffy cat investigating their scones in the picture that appeared on my phone. Apparently it was not fully grown yet. I think I would rather eat my afternoon tea without a big fluffy cat on the table. At home the relatives’ cats are not allowed out; letting your cat kill the native birds and marsupials of Western Australia is frowned upon.

Ironically they were astonished how many eateries and pubs in England allow dogs in. I guess we have no need for ‘puppy cafes’ as our cafes are already full of dogs.

Have you been on a scary flight?

What is the strangest café you have been in?

Foolish Friday

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 21 Comments

You open a new page on your computer to go and visit your favourite bloggers or Facebook, but you never get there because you can’t resist clicking on to startling headlines about celebrities you have never heard of or, shocking events somewhere… you don’t know where till you click on to the item.

Why do you feel compelled to find out why the unknown celebrity, who appears on a programme you have not heard of, is so devastated with the news about …what? Obviously you can’t concentrate on writing your blog without finding out if that really is an alien ‘mummy’ or how someone choked to death on a marshmallow.

And where had that woman been for forty two years? Do not be tempted to go down rabbit holes as most of the dramatic headlines involve death sneaking up at the most unlikely times and places, under the strangest circumstances. Suffice to say anyone can be struck down by a mystery illness, the only symptom of which is sudden death. If you are amongst the lucky few to be in perfect health, do avoid alligators, bears, anything higher or deeper than two feet and best to avoid sleeping and eating as well.

Scroll down further and cheer yourself up by reading why you have ruined your joints and what you must never feed your dog. And look in the mirror and reassure yourself that you probably look better than the numerous famous stars whose appearance NOW will shock you, perhaps they were the Mexican mummies?

Tuesday Tale – A Stranger in 2022

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 8 Comments

When I finally woke from my three year coma everyone said I hadn’t missed much and proceeded to gabble on about Covid and lockdowns. i had no idea what they were talking about.

It seems they had been talking to me a lot ’once restrictions were lifted’, another mystery. I do not remember a single word they said, so that was a waste of their time. Only my dearly beloved had the sense to give up early on, no great loss, though apparently ironic as the accident was his fault.

They insisted on showing me The Facebook Page. How embarrassing, I didn’t know I had so many friends, or maybe everyone feared not being seen as caring. Celebrities, what was that all about? Why on earth would I want some gloating multi millionaire author pleading with me to get better and finish my novel? From what I recall it was a load of rubbish. As for the music, who on earth thought I loved Andre Rieu and Andrea Bocelli?


Anyway, all I wanted to do was get out of that hospital and explore 2022 on my own, the lot of them could go and get…. can’t even remember any swear words. What was I saying, oh yes, I had interviews with rehab people and got myself free three months, or was it three free months at Mellowmead sports centre. But it turns out ‘everything’s changed since Covid’. You can’t just walk in and ask for an adult swim and head off to the changing room. You have to go through the Portal, get the Ap, book on line. The Mellowmead Active website was a nightmare. ‘Just look for Mind and Body Studio and search wellness pilates and moving forward easy circuits’ said my physio.
At last I arrived with my new bright orange plastic Mellowmead Active membership card. ’I think I am booked in for 2.30 wellness pilates, where do I go?’
‘Just touch your card at the barrier, if it opens you are booked in’ she said, without looking up from her computer screen.

Sunday Short Story – Quarantine

~ tidalscribe.com ~ 16 Comments

When Lynne arrived at her bubble friend’s house for their morning coffee she was surprised to find Eleanor in a state of agitation.

‘Are you okay, the effects of the second jab?’

‘Yes, no… let me get the coffee and I’ll tell you my news.’

Lynne could not imagine what the news could be, not much happened in Covid times and certainly nothing to put her friend in such a state, but there was something different about the house. The usual vase of cut flowers on the hall stand had disappeared and so had the orchid on the window sill. As she followed Eleanor into the kitchen she was puzzled to see the cupboard door handles tied together with stout string.

‘Go and sit down Lynne, I’m just trying to remember where I put the coffee.’

‘Okay, I brought that jigsaw, I’ll put it on the dining room table.’

There was a strange crackling underfoot as Lynne walked into the dining room and she realised she was walking on plastic sheeting that covered the carpet. Eleanor hadn’t mentioned that she was going to have decorators in. The exquisite mahogany dining table, recently inherited from an aunt, was covered in a heavy duty plastic tablecloth, perhaps her friend was planning to do some messy crafts.

When Lynne moved into the usually elegant front room her confusion increased; it now seemed most likely her friend had been burgled. The fireplace looked bare, gone was the antique urn with its arrangement of dried flowers and the crystal vase Lynne had given her for Christmas was no longer on the windowsill. She glanced around the room and took in a bizarre scene. The glass cabinet had a heavy quilt secured round it and the occasional tables all had wodges of foam taped to their corners. The three piece suite was covered in throws that looked like they had come from Wilkos rather than John Lewis and there was no sign of the embroidered cushions.

Eleanor walked in with two scruffy looking mugs.

‘Sorry about the mugs, they’re the ones Anthony used to keep down at the allotment. I’ve packed all the bone china away. I’m afraid I didn’t have time to make a cake… well I have been baking, but not for us…’

Before any explanation was forthcoming there was the sound of frantic yapping and Eleanor went to open the back door for Covina, the little dog she had acquired from the dachshund rescue centre. The dog rushed into the room to greet Lynne.

‘You’re surely not moving house, Michael hasn’t persuaded you to go over there?’

‘Goodness no, I wouldn’t even go to that dreadful country on holiday; they’re coming back to England, out of the blue, arriving at Heathrow early afternoon. It seems they are allowed to quarantine with relatives, me.’

‘Oh that’s wonderful news, at last you’ll get to see the babies.’

‘Hardly babies, three and four now and if they are like Michael was at that age… my head spins just seeing them on Facetime. So I have taken a few precautions, I don’t want to be responsible for them ending up in A&E. Forty four years old and Michael still has that scar on his forehead from the fireplace at our first house.  I was going to ask, you know you said you would love to have Covina to stay if I ever managed to go on holiday, do you think you could possibly have her now?’

‘Yes of course, though I’m sure the children would be gentle with her.’

‘I’m worried she might bite them; the charity did say she was best suited to a quiet home with an older person. I remember that time with my brother’s dog when Michael was three; it was his fault of course, shoving his hand in the dog’s mouth.’

‘Covina’s hardly a pit bull, but I suppose tiny fingers could be a worry. I shall enjoy having her.’

Eleanor kept looking nervously at the clock, she had the hands free house phone and her mobile by her side.

 ‘Relax you’re all organised, except… perhaps now the charity shops are open again you could get a few toys for them…’ she looked at the expression on Eleanor’s face ‘or maybe order on line.’

As if in answer to that suggestion they heard the door bell being rung frantically.

‘Ah that will be the Amazon parcels; Michael asked me to get some Lego sets for them.’

‘Aren’t they a bit young for Lego, choking hazards?’

‘Oh dear, I hadn’t thought of that.’

Ten minutes later Eleanor had located the scissors she had hidden away and they manged to get the boxes open to reveal several brightly coloured Lego sets.

Eleanor examined the writing and pictures on the boxes.

‘Strange people and vehicles, but it seems only under threes choke, so that’s a relief. But really Lynne I’m getting too old for all this; you wait years to get some grandchildren, then they go abroad and then there’s a world wide pandemic and nobody gets to see their grandchildren…’

Two days later Lynne turned into Eleanor’s road on her way to the post office and was alarmed to see an ambulance outside Eleanor’s house. After all the precautions she wondered what mishap had befallen the precious grandchildren. She wasn’t being nosy, she had to walk that way anyway. As she got closer there was a further shock when she saw Eleanor on a stretcher being wheeled down the front path.

‘Oh Lynne, isn’t this embarrassing, Michael will tell you what happened.’

As her friend was loaded into the ambulance a frazzled looking man emerged from the front door with a wriggling, screeching child in his arms.

‘Nee Nah, Nee Nah, I want to go in the hambliance.’

The man’s voice was muffled through the child’s hair.  ‘Nice to meet you Lynne, I hear you have been a great support, but we’re here now; just as well now this has happened.’

‘What did happen?’

‘I’m not exactly sure; Mother was tidying up all the mess in the dining room after breakfast and she stood on some Lego and slipped on the plastic sheeting.’