Dear God by Josephine Falla Page A

in time. This time he just didn’t understand it. Was he supposed to ask the Social people about the past or not? The problem wasn’t solved, so he shrugged his shoulders and temporarily forgot about it. He settled down for a prolonged afternoon sleep; his life seemed to have become more exciting and interesting of late, he thought. Perhaps he had God to thank for that but it was certainly tiring. Ginger joined him and they enjoyed a comfortable doze on the sofa.
    Later, he and his umbrella went to the pub and again had a pleasant session. Jimmy was there and had to be filled in with the police episode and William recruited several people to help him with his mobile phone, which was just as well as he had apparently set the alarm to go off at 3 a.m. Choosing which ringtone he preferred occupied most of the regulars for at least half an hour but he got the hang of it all after a while. He even found out how to switch it off. There were one or two games on his phone which intrigued him, but it was disappointing he couldn’t take pictures. Up until now he had no idea that people could take pictures with their phones, anyway, but to find that he was one of those who couldn’t annoyed him but there it was. At least he could phone people now.
    He came home very pleased with life in general, slightly tipsy but not as much as usual, went to bed and slept well.
    The next morning he made a good substantial breakfast, which Ginger joined in with appreciatively, and decided to go and buy a paper, as he wanted to catch up on what had happened in the scandals he had been reading about. However, before he could do that, Ed Smithers turned up to look at the garden.
    “How much do you want done Mr. Penfold?”
    “All of it,” said William. He was in no mood to haggle over bits and pieces.
    “Well, it’s not a very big garden, so it wouldn’t cost that much. You’ve already got quite a few large plain slabs outside your kitchen and toilet end of the garden. Do you want herringbone pattern, or to continue the large slabs or crazy paving? I’ve got pictures here.”
    William considered the illustrations. “I like the crazy paving,” he said firmly.
    “Want any more spaces left at the edges for a border or in the middle, for plants?”
    “No,” he said firmly.
    “Well, we’d have to charge you for taking away all the rubbish. There’s a lot to clear, you realise. What about the shed?”
    “I don’t want it. Take it away. And what’s inside it.”
    Ed Smithers fiddled about with his pencil and brochure. “Could do it for £580.”
    William was shocked. £580 for covering his garden area with concrete! “£250,” he said, sticking his chin out belligerently. “There’s a proper lawnmower in the shed, and a spade and so on. You’d get all those.”
    “Not worth anything. Four fifty for plain slab paving,” said Ed Smithers, “ that’s my last word.”
    “Four hundred,” said William. “That’s mine.”
    “Gawd,” said Ed. “I’ll do it next week. Monday. What’s that plank doing there?”
    “It’s for the cat,” explained William.
    “You need a cat flap,” said Ed. “One of my men’ll put one in for you in your back door. Can’t have that plank there.”
    “Alright,” said William.
    “£420 then,” said Ed. “Plus cost of cat flap,” he added hastily.
    He and William shook hands and William offered him a drink as they went back through the kitchen. William had to give Ed a deposit, which he managed from the £1,000 he still had left from the lorry driver. He put the remainder in his wallet. The conversation seemed to have suited both of them and they parted amicably.
    Well, that’s going to make a hole in my £1000, thought William. On the other hand, it would solve the garden problem in one go. “You can’t take it with you,” he said philosophically, as he considered his purchase.
    Well satisfied with his morning’s encounter, he returned to the front room. Before he could make himself