‘This is how it should look. Almost nothing left,’ said Allanson as he surveyed the shed. A large anchor and a crate of beer stood on the floor, and on the shelves were a couple of nets, some lifebuoys and fishing rods—otherwise it was empty. The bicycles had gone, as had the mopeds and the two snow scooters.
‘And to think that we got paid in euros just like we wanted. The kids’ bikes and the ten-gear jobs sold like hotcakes. The Estonians were pleased as punch,’ said Janson.
‘Yeah, and the mopeds sold well too,’ Allanson added. ‘Now we’ve got some space again. What about a new venture? Bikes and mopeds, for example?’
‘I think you might be on to something there. Could we start Saturday?’
‘I’m off work on the weekend and I’m going to visit my mum at the retirement home. It’s her birthday. But after that …’
‘You’re not going to bloody well visit her at four in the morning, are you?’ Janson smirked.
‘No, no.’ Allanson looked down at the floor. He usually got teased because he visited his mother so often. But he was fond of her, and she was so pleased when he came to visit—even though she usually forgot that he had been there the minute he walked out the door.
‘I’ll stay with her a while and drive over to meet you after. But I should get her a present. I can’t keep taking her chocolates and flowers.’
‘Flowers? She should get them anyway, but take this. It looks completely new and it’s only been getting in the way here.’ He kicked the black shopping trolley that was on the pallet.
‘The shopping trolley? But she is too old to go out shopping.’
‘Don’t you get it? Let her think she can. Things like that let people who are past it feel a bit younger. And you can always fill it with something nice.’
Allanson cast a critical eye over the shopping trolley, but then he brightened up.
‘She’s got one hell of a lot of blankets that she drags around with her. The staff at her retirement home have complained about it. Now she’ll be able to put them in the trolley.’
‘Exactly. Just don’t forget to take out the old newspapers first.’
‘Sure, but I should take her something to go with it,’ Allanson mused, still not satisfied.
‘You said that they had stopped serving cakes and biscuits at the retirement home. So buy some fancy buns and cream cakes for the place. And then you can get something tasty for us too while you’re about it.’
Allanson’s face lit up. ‘You always have such good ideas.’
Janson laughed, closed the doors and locked up the shed. They got into the car again and did the usual round past the skip and Lost Property.