I was off work for a week. Compulsory workers compensation leave my boss and the unions called it. There'd been a near accident at work with me the near victim. Bloody fast reflexes got me out of the way in time and an equally fast tongue let that damned apprentice know what I thought of his chances of completing his apprenticeship in the next fifty years.
Turned out that the apprentice was the nephew of one of the union bigwigs and when mummy's boy went running to him he came barging in waving the health and safety act like a banner.
Finding out that his nephew had well and truly stuffed up, bigwig changed tack in an instant. Suddenly I was the poor employee who had faced traumatic stress due to lack of proper management oversight. The upshot was that, to keep the union happy and off his back, the manager told me to take a week of paid stress leave.
I didn't get any say in the matter but it didn't particularly worry me. There were things I could do at home with my sudden spare time. And this had the side benefit that the apprentice would have to kill someone else or be killed by them while I was away.
This explains why I suddenly had time on my hands. I was telling Andy, the guy next door, about the idiot apprentice and my week off when he suddenly piped up.
"Listen, Pete," he said, "if you've got time on your hands for the next week maybe you could do me a favour."
And maybe I couldn't. Depends on what he wants, doesn't it. People can be awfully generous with your time if you let them.
"Depends, Andy," I told him. What's the problem?"
"It's Gloria," Andy told me. "I think she's cheating on me. Could you sort of keep an eye out during the week and let me know what's going on?"
Gloria, in case you hadn't guessed, is his wife, and she's a real honey. Andy is paranoid about her and is always suspecting her of cheating. I've heard some of their arguments on this point but, to be honest, I've never heard of her actually stepping out on him. It all seems to be in Andy's mind.
I figured that he must be serious this time if he was asking me to keep an eye on her. Normally he walks alongside of her carrying a baseball bat to fend off any unwanted admirers. OK. To be fair, he doesn't quite go that far, but he probably would if he could.
So in the spirit of our common maleness, eager to be a helpful neighbour, ready to put Andy in a position where he'd owe me one, and knowing if I didn't agree he'd whine until I did, I assured Andy that I would watch her like a hawk and let him know everything that went on.
As soon as Andy walked away I naturally forgot all about watching Gloria. The next day I was working in my front garden, getting it up to scratch. I could see Andy's place and I idly noted the visitors that Gloria had. The mail man and a pair of Jehovah Witnesses. None of them got past the front door.
Andy came charging around to my place as soon as he got home wanting a report. Remembering what he wanted me to do I was able to tell him that Gloria was home all day and her only visitors were the mailman and the bible bashers. Andy promptly wanted to know how I knew they were bible bashers.
"Because they came into my place next and started yakking at me. After half an hour of having them try to convert me, I held up a hand and told them to excuse me for a minute as my phone was ringing, but not to go away. I'd be right back. Then I went inside and closed the door. They waited for an hour before they finally realised I wasn't coming back."
Andy nodded and toddled off home, and I could be sure if he was happy because I hadn't caught Gloria out or unhappy, because I hadn't caught Gloria out. I know that sentence doesn't seem to make much sense, but neither did Andy.
It was odd, but from that point on I seemed to bump into Gloria all the time. I'd go to do some gardening and she'd also be out in the garden. I'd go down the street and I'd meet Gloria while in the mall. It seemed to me that I saw more of her over the next few days than I had over the previous year, but this may have been due to my increased awareness of her.
It seemed that Gloria had noticed the same thing, because when I came back from a short walk, she was working in the front garden and stopped to chat.
"It's odd, Peter," she told me, "but I seem to see you everywhere the last few days."
"It's not really that strange," I pointed out. "I'm having a week off so I'm around more. Plus Andy has asked me to keep an eye on you to see if you're cheating on him. And on top of that I'm developing this overwhelming desire to take off those little ragged shorts you're wearing and, as they say in the romance novels, having my wicked way with you."
Gloria blinked as she slowly took that in.
"Andy thinks I'm having an affair again and set you to watch me?"
Noticing my amused gaze she reviewed her statement.
"I meant that he's thought it before, not that I've had an affair before," she amended, blushing. "You're actually watching what I do and reporting it to him?"
I shook my head. "Not really. I tell him that the postman dropped by and that bible bashers came calling and little incidentals like that. It keeps him happy and off my back."
The last half of me initial statement finally caught up with her, because Gloria gasped, blushed and then glared at me.
"You can't say things like that," she snapped.
"What? That the bible bashers came around? They did. They even came to my place."
"Not that," Gloria said, bristling. "That other thing you said, about my shorts."
"Oh, that bit about peeling them off you so you're effectively naked and then having sex with you? Why can't I say that?"
"It's just not the way you talk to a lady, and you know it."
"Really? Do you mean that no-one has ever propositioned you before? I can't believe that. You've got sex appeal laid on."
Gloria's face was a riot. It was all I could do not to laugh out loud.
"Of course I've been propositioned before," she muttered. "Just never so crudely. There's a way of suggesting that sort of thing so that it can be politely ignored, which is what I do."
