October Prep 2023

Day 7 - Protagonists Background Story

Please note - my story has three protagonists.

Rain blattered down on the windscreen, which was steaming up despite the heater and the blower both being on full. Water streamed down the glass, and it would have been a hazardous drive if it were being conducted at anything more than a snails pace. A pretty arthritic snail at that. The slow queue of traffic inched it's way home through the oh so inappropriately named 'rush hour'.

A crash of thunder overhead, presaging the lightning that briefly cauterised the scene to the retina of all and everyone waiting patiently, (or impatiently) to get off the roundabout and start moving again.

"When shall we three meet again?" Intoned Jim, a small wiry man, who's leprechaun face belied his fifty-eight years.

Dave, who was driving, sighed. He was a heavy set man, who's ruddy complexion was now unimpeded by hair. He liked to joke that he'd never been handsome, but now he at least enjoyed the delicious good looks of Maris Piper.

"That would be Thursday, that being the day after tomorrow, for rehearsals." he replied with a heavy sarcasm he knew Jim would both ignore and take no offence from.

"I know, I know." protested Jim, "I was just getting in the mood."

"We aren't doing the Scottish play, nor are we going to see the Scottish play." Dave replied, without taking his eyes off the vehicles around him.

"We won't be seeing any play if we don't get out of this flippin' queue." Observed Richard, who was in the back seat.

"We'd move a lot faster if these pillocks in front of us would stop letting bloody Audi drivers cut in. Look, look there's another of them. We've been waiting five minutes to move and he thinks he can just swing around the side and... He's letting the bastard in, are you bloody stupid you..."

"Calm down mate, you'll burst something." Soothed Jim as Dave's voice rose to a high pitched squawk of indignation.

There was a bleep as Richard's phone announced the arrival of a text.

"Eh-up! Better see what your better half wants." Jim teased. It was a given that any text that Richard received was from his wife.

Richard peered at his screen.

"Gemma wants to know what time we'll be back." he told them.

"Ruddy hell, we haven't even got there yet." Dave replied, speaking over his shoulder as he finally managed to edge the car forwards into the slow moving, but definitely moving, line of cars.

"What shall I tell her?"

"Play's due to start at seven-thirty, and I'm guessing with an interval it'll be finished by ten-thirty or thereabouts. We should be back by midnight, the roads will be much clearer coming back." Dave told him, Dave was always the one that organised things, made sure that the three got where they needed to go, and on time.

"We'd better be, else his missus and my Montmorency will have something to say about it. He was quite sniffy about not being invited tonight" said Jim. Montmorency was his wire hair terrier, named from Jerome K. Jerome's canine companion to 'Three Men On A Boat', which not coincidentally was the play they were to see that evening.

Richard finished texting a reply to Gemma. A scant minute later there was another missive, instructing him 'Don't be late'.

Jim and Dave looked briefly at one another. Jim was twice divorced, and for Dave, once had been enough. They both derived some small amusement from Richard's interactions with Gemma, and they were in no doubt as to who wore the trousers in that household. Richard was a gentle soul and generally easily led, sometimes a little too easily.

"Shall we have a bit of music?" Jim asked.

"Yeah, sure." said Richard.

"If we must." Dave's concentration was now vey much on the road. He was a safe driver, given to shockingly observing the speed limit and making regular use of the indicator, even when doing such obvious manoeuvrers as making a turn or even negoitiating a roundabout.

There was a brief hiss and Duran Duran joined the trio on their journey up the M6 to Manchester.