Chapter 1 as in solo

A lovely Saturday of tranquility was ahead of me as I woke up in my small cottage or so I thought. Life couldn’t get any better as I lay on my bed thinking what I had now achieved in life. A retained firefighter, a special constable and a side hustle as my very own pest control officer. Started my first company and came up with Hubbly Bubbly Pest Control so no one would forget it. I would get work from high society because I was living the high life and body swerving the riffraff who would drag me down to their level. I was even thinking of an image coach to spruce my image up to a higher level and take up some keep fit, like cycling, jogging or yoga. My finances were in great shape due to what I got told when I was three years old. Multi streams of income was drummed into me and help anyone who is in a position of power or better still, someone who will soon be in a position of power.

At age three, three words were drummed into me and those words were ‘Law of Reciprocation’ where I had to sit down and write out the meaning ten times every day, before I went to bed. It’s a fantastic recipe for a good night’s sleep. Once I had wrote it out a thousand times I was allowed to move on to another natural law principle. 

 [The law of reciprocity, also known as the principle of reciprocity, is a social norm where individuals feel obligated to return a favor or kindness when they receive one. This norm is widely observed across cultures and influences various aspects of human interaction, including social, commercial, and diplomatic contexts. Essentially, it suggests that a positive action is met with a similar positive action, creating a sense of balance and obligation]. 

It made me research and think before I took on any new work in life. I had to discuss all my work with gran to see if the customer fits our profile and the task would be achievable without strings attached. My gran used to be a private lecturer to many leaders of industry and above her office door in the grand mansion stated ‘Professor of Human Behaviour in Business’ and I had to clean the brass plaque every day until Autistic Alan came to live with her. Now he is the resident polisher when he is not working at the fire station. He doesn’t need the money with benefits he gets but it gives him a sense of meaning, where he feels wanted. In life, deep down, we all want to feel wanted, either by a love one, a business, a work crew and most of all a party when one enters politics. I suppose it’s called a team player now or one’s vibe attracts one’s tribe.

The next or second principle I was forced to write down was from our old pal Sir Issac she often mentioned. This principle involved a swing, where one push resulted in another push in the opposite direction, which we notice when a swing moves back and forth. Same as before I had to write down his three laws of motion. It was his third law that gran paid particular interest with, which went like this; [For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction] I had to write this down ten times every night before bed and show her in the morning or I got made to do it all over again. The other two laws she didn’t seem bothered about but like before I had to write them down five times after principle two was complete.

His first law of motion; [An object at rest stays at rest, and an object in motion stays in motion with the same speed and in the same direction unless acted upon by an unbalanced force] This was mainly to do with politics when a change of government happened. She would mysteriously turn her allegiance to the new party after turning her back on them. She would now sing their praises and forget everything she had said in the past. It was totally bizarre but slowly made sense as time went on. Nothing actually made sense at the time and still doesn’t but her famous words, “time will tell”.

Sir Issacs second law of motion [The acceleration of an object is directly proportional to the net force acting on it and inversely proportional to its mass] I think this meant that if you kick two footballs at same force then the lighter one will go further. In the end I couldn’t get my head around it and decided never to head a football and let it fly over my head. Just as well, because as time would tell many football players would suffer head injuries trying to prevent the acceleration of the ball meaning their brain would take the net force inversely related to its mass, resulting in brain fog. Good old Sir Issac had told us this centuries ago, which is now become apparent. 

Gran’s third principle related to a guy called Vilfredo Pareto who was an Italian economist. He discovered that approximately 80% of the land in the Kingdom of Italy was owned by 20% of the population. So, with this knowledge he studied other things in life and began to see a pattern emerging. That pattern he called Pareto’s Principle and Pareto’s Distribution or as we call it the 80/20 rule. So, I had to write down before bed:- [Adage of business management that "80% of sales come from 20% of clients] The way I saw it was 20% of effort resulted in 80% of income or 80% of effort resulted in 20% of income. This meant my days as Benny Hill’s Ernie the fastest milkman in the west was well and truly over before it even began. Especially after it reached Christmas number one in the UK charts. Getting forced to listen to this song every night made me never, to cry over spilled milk and I had no choice but to chase single cream, double cream and even clotted cream till the fat lady sung, which she did on our walkie talkie.

                                      Chapter 2 dinki doo

My tranquility was interrupted by a rich expressive sound coming from the walkie-talkie. This was gran’s way of contacting me through our two-way system (a pair of walkie-talkies) so no one could record or listen to what we were discussing. She told me I like to use the saxophone because it makes a rich, expressive sound that can vary depending on the type of saxophone and the player's technique. It's a woodwind instrument, but its tone is often described as warm, human-like, or even emotional. The sound is produced by the vibration of a reed against a mouthpiece, which then resonates within the saxophone's body. Every time it sounds, I think of Gerry Rafferty’s Baker Street song. I think gran knew him from growing up in Paisley’s Underwood Lane.

Hi gran, Hi Michael, can you come up to Friarshall (name of her mansion) for lunch today, I have a few things I want to discuss with you. Okidoki, see you then I have just got out of bed. I have some strawberry tarts for you to try out. Thanks, make sure no one eats the strawberry’s out of them like the last time. Okay, I’ve screwed some stainless-steel screws into every big strawberry so we will know who has eaten them this time. Great see you then, bye. Now my mind was working overtime because she always waits till I have bitten into my first strawberry tart and drops the bad news that involves an act I have to perform to save someone’s bacon. Last time it involved dressing up like old Michael and entering a court. Next thing I knew, I was being dragged into a procurator fiscal’s office and being torn apart by some high court judge. She had timed it perfectly so her, old Michael KC and a few court police would enter the same room when he had his hands round my neck and was just about to strangle me. The police had to restrain him and when he saw the real Michael KC the penny dropped but at that moment, he knew he was finished. Gran made him retire on the spot or I would press charges and that meant, immediate suspension, trial, sacked and lose a big chunk of his pension, so he had no choice but to jump. He could never infiltrate our life again. I never did get to the bottom of it nor the reason but gran assured me she would tell me tomorrow. Slowly I came to realise that tomorrow never comes so I asked her, why me and she said young man, you have nothing to lose in life and the only Michael I can trust to undertake a mission to perfection. Deep down I understood this all too well, I would always be the fall guy for my four brothers and in return they would have no choice but to standby me even when they didn’t want to because gran was running the show. Like show business, our family was just another business where we all had a part to play. Play your part and the show would continue, fail to play your part and the business would slowly disintegrate.

I now had four hours to play with, before an interrogation would be held in my honor or like before a covert operation was being meticulously put into place by the fat controller. In times like this I have no choice but to retreat into my office and take hold of the Oracle of Delphi (tarot cards) to predict the future. I could also give my monthly readings and once happy upload them onto the internet. It was the sign of Taurus I would be paying particular attention too. So, I decided to leave this sign to the last, this would give me time to focus on the cards which would relate to the mission on hand.

After a few hours completing 11 signs, I only had my own sign to do and I knew it would take it out of me so I decided to have a large strong cup of coffee and a few Tunnock’s biscuits. This would raise my sugar level, set me in motion and relax my nerves of steel or aluminum due to how much flexibility I had achieved in life about decisions. Ordinary folk don’t realise the power in decision making and why folk at the top of the tree get paid well to make these decisions. It’s only when one has a hard decision to make that one realizes that it may not turn out well and one will be held accountable for that decision for the rest of one’s life. By studying Prime Ministers I have noticed that they all make the decision that will provide stability even if they have said otherwise many months before or better still, before they have taken office. 

My first card out was the three of swords and it’s probably the worst card in the tarot or second. Although I had a good idea what it meant, I had to look up the meaning of the card just in case I missed something. (The Three of Swords tarot card typically represents pain, heartbreak, and sorrow. It often symbolizes a difficult experience, such as a broken relationship, a painful loss, or deep disappointment. While the imagery of a heart pierced by swords is prominent, the card also carries a message of resilience and the potential for healing and growth through difficult times).

It was hard for me to understand this card because I was single and no heart break in sight. So, I sat there meditating on the card and why I had to become a special constable. Slowly the picture began to appear, it must have something to do with Magic my brother who was always getting involved in love triangles at work. The last one that springs to mind involved his personal assistant who was a fairly young married woman. She was deeply unhappy in her marriage and their affair instantly took off. Her husband found out and caused a scene at the police station and she was forced to resign or her father would have been out of a job. Her father worked in her husband’s family business so even if she left her husband her father would be out of a job. The poor girl was trapped in a loveless marriage that her father had orchestrated so he could keep his high paying job.

The next card was the tower which appeared next to the three of swords. Light relief had now come because it was telling me something has to end and probably before it had even begun. So, like before I searched for its full meaning. (The Tower tarot card, a Major Arcana, typically depicts a tower struck by lightning, symbolizing sudden, dramatic, and often destructive change. It represents upheaval, loss of control, and the shattering of old foundations. The card's imagery suggests the need for a complete reset, letting go of what no longer serves you, and facing unexpected challenges). I was beginning to see more of the picture emerging.

Like before, I sat there mediating on why Magic had quickly disappeared and was now working for Interpol. Something was going to come out and I would have to take the can for him and then once the dust died down, he would slowly return. I would probably be made to impersonate him by wearing the uniform, then found guilty of something and be booted out again. This was a pattern I was becoming all too familiar with as I grew older and wiser, connected to the commission. So, it all came down to the last card and I guessed it would be something to do with structure so I made for my major arcana small deck.

The third and last card was now upon me and the Hierophant popped out sideways. (The Hierophant, the fifth card in the Major Arcana of the Tarot, symbolizes tradition, conformity, and established social structures. It often represents institutions, religious beliefs, and the pursuit of knowledge through established channels like education or mentorship. The Hierophant can also signify moral righteousness, ethics, and the importance of following a structured path). Well as they say the cards don’t lie and I could now see the full picture. Magic had been caught red handed and I was the only one who could get him off the hook, well Gran because she would have to put her plan in place and use me as the decoy. I could now relax and wait till it was time to go up to the hall.

                                 Chapter 3 as in triangle

My peace and quiet was interrupted again by the saxophone resonating all through the cottage. This was my plug to make my way up to Friarshall, so I tempted fate and swallowed down a few paracetamols to ease the headache that always comes on me up there. Grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and began drinking on my way out the door. As I walked up the driveway, I had one eye on the front door and another on the carpark to see what unusual cars were there. I have found this is a nice heads up to prevent an astonished look take hold of my face when the door opens and someone famous walks out. There was one car that stood out because of the small police sticker on the front and back windscreen to allow parking at their training college.

The moment I reached the spotless sandstone flared walls and inset sandstone steps; the wide double margin door opened like Downing Street. Gran expressed her put on astonished look to Mr Livingson who was now departing the mansion with a distinct chip in his front tooth. She then said “Hello Michael, what a surprise to see you”. I replied “Yes, it’s amazing what the cat drags in”. Panda (white Persian cat like the one in James Bond films) the house cat decided to strike while the iron was hot and beat me to the front door. Panda was always very fond of me because I knew where the cat biscuits were hidden and would follow me around, till I found them. Then she would sit on my lap and I would feed her a biscuit or two while digesting gran’s medicine of procedure.

Gran was a mysterious old woman who always had a slightly astonished look like Charlie Chan because of her eyebrows. She was once told that Marilyn Munro had the most desirable eyebrows in the world. This led her on the eyebrow mission to copy them. She must have thought that having the same eyebrows would make her irresistible to men. I don’t think she realised Marilyn’s age and figure had a lot more to do with it. After getting her eyebrows lasered she decided on a technique called cosmetic eyebrow tattooing to achieve a consistent, natural looking eyebrow shape. To me it looked ridiculous and meant she always had an astonished look. To her, it meant everything and made her eyes more appealing, or so she thought.

The three of us went in and made for the sitting room and I made for the vase that held the cat biscuits and grabbed a handful because it was likely to become a long day. The moment I sat on the luxury Chesterfield single chair, Panda jumped up on my lap and pawed my hand for a biscuit. Gran sat down on the same chair opposite me; the room was that big there was half a dozen of these chairs scattered about the place. She said “It’s nice that you and I can have a wee cat? I meant chat”. I replied “Of course it is, why not cut to the chase and tell me the real reason I’m being summoned”. “Okay” she replied “But I need to bring in the tea first”. I left the biscuits on the chair for Panda and made my way to the table at the big bay window where she takes afternoon tea with guests. This protocol must have worked once before because she would use it all her life. Observing the table I saw a few used tea cups and two strawberry tarts and two homemade scones missing. My deduction told me her and Livy both had one each.

In she came holding the China teapot with a tea cozy wrapped around it, there was steam coming from its spout meant the tea was boiling. I immediately grabbed the tart with the biggest strawberry in it and began to meticulous inspect it for screwnails. She told me she had removed the screws bar one which Livy consumed. He was in a rush due to a round of golf he was playing in the afternoon. The moment I bit into the strawberry she revealed her plan. I was to call a young blond cop and pretend to be our brother Magic. I was not to retaliate and would have to allow her to vent her anger and find out what she intended to do. We only knew that she was leaving the job and trying to work out who she would take down with her. Gran had my script all wrote down and she would be sitting next to me and listening to her every word. I was made aware that the phone call was getting taped so I could not react in the slightest way. After going through a few scenarios with gran I was good to go so I ate another strawberry tart as a confidence builder.

                               Chapter 4 as in square

Gran handed over the mobile that Livy must have dropped off and told me its ringing. A sweet young female voice answered the call and I replied “Hi Blondie its Magic I’m in gay Paree on holiday, how you hanging?” 

“Hold on” she replied and moved to somewhere private. “Right, arsehole (screaming down the phone), I have found out you are still married, you had no interest in marrying me and just led me on. I have told all the authorities about you grooming me for sex in the panda car and they have taken samples which contain your DNA. I am going to resign after the disciplinary and you will be sacked. I never want to see you and your love nest ever again. I hope you rot in hell; you have totally destroyed my life never mind my reputation ever since I was a trainee. You are evil but I will have the last laugh when you are forced to resign, drop dead”. then the mobile went silent and I handed it back to gran and said “charming”.

Gran was holding an air sealed evidence bag and told me to pop it in there. This is a nice present for Livy who I will text that a tart has been left so he picks her, I mean It, up on his way back from the golf. I answered “Maybe he will be lucky and get an arse, I mean hole in one today”. Gran replied with a cunning smile “This is better than a hole in one and you my boy have just saved Magic’s career and the forces IT system, I always knew that not being able to tell your voices apart would come in handy one day. I still couldn’t get my head round it but it would all become apparent in the fullness of time. Panda was now showing me it was time for us both to leave by rubbing her body against my leg. Gran showed us both out and I was still a bit raw, confused and unable to think clearly which meant I did extremely well. 

When I reached the bottom of the stone stairs I turned round and bent my knee for Panda to make two pounces up on to my shoulder. She always liked the high life and had achieved this strange obsession lying on my right shoulder when we headed back to the cottage. Something made me turn round and study the grand entrance to Friarshall which was the name of the house. I think it was the main residence where the monks once lived before the house next to the Abby was built. The front door resembled two doors joined together so it would not look out of place. We see this when a very wide door is needed and two doors would only get in the way. It’s a nice practical solution to an awkward situation which has been redesigned in bi-fold doors.

Panda and I now headed for the cottage where she knew I would have a spare tin of tuna fish waiting for her. Although it was the hall’s cat it seemed to spend more time down at mine’s due to the attention I gave her. She was white as snow and had little black patches on her feet, hence the name Panda. The black patches looked like 4 small boots she was wearing; folk would often take a photo of her to quench their curiosity.

When we reached the cottage a flash of thought entered my tiny brain and it was the famous words ‘Hell hath no fury as a woman scorned’ and I had to automatically Google this saying. But then, I knew I would be pestered all day by a small furry thing so into the kitchen I dashed, grabbed a tin of tuna, opened it up and left it on the floor. I was in too much of a hurry that I left the sharp round top of tin attached. Panda wasn’t bothered because her face was now inside the tin and I was hesitant to remove the danger but my feet took me straight into the side of the kitchen door. Reached for my hankies in my pocket and tore a few strips and stuffed them up my nostrils. Now my eyes were watering but I was still heading for the laptop, where I sat down and a fantastic sense of calmness had come over me, like reaching my final destination. I call it ‘McQuaid syndrome’, which all the family suffers from. Me being Knowledge resulting in making money, Magic being blonds or gambling, old Michael being artifacts, SDO Michael being engines which Deepfry helped build and Michelle being the human mind.

The laptop now opened and me rubbing my hands profusely meant I only had to bump in ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’ and wala, bloody nothing. With both hands hitting the side of my head and still staring at the screen, meant only one thing, my internet was down. From hero to zero, I could have cried because I had built up my hippocampus. This is the part of the brain that involves memory and learning and it was desperate to learn the definition of an angry woman and all that had happened, I was now an angry man, like the law of reciprocation it had come round full circle, again. I was then going to check all the connections to get to the root of the router but Panda had now come in with the tin of tuna stuck on her head. I bent down and removed the tin and her nose had received a cut from the sharp edge that I failed to remove and was bleeding.

With first aid kit on one hand and the other holding the cat I decided to retreat to the south facing patio. This angry thing had turned into a nightmare and I wasn’t even angry but just by getting involved drags one down to their level and slowly rubs off on you. Now I was beginning to remember wise words from the countess many years ago when I was doing some handyman work for her. She told me “Never get angry” because if you do then you will do or say something silly and live to regret it. I now knew exactly what she meant. We both took up position on the large south facing bench and I opened the first aid kit. As I thought all the small elastoplasts were gone and the kit was full of big ones. One on my nose and one on Panda’s nose and we both fell asleep on the bench with the sun beaming down on us.

                                      Chapter 5 as in Pentagon

A few hours later I was awakened by the squirrels in the trees munching their way through beech nuts because it was a beech mast year. They were obviously taking advantage of all this food and were even storing it in a crevice between a large branch and the trunk of the tree. The wise old squirrels or hardwired DNA were telling them that this bounty will not last another year made them think of the future. My mind was now thinking about what the bible was saying regarding 6 years of growing food followed by one year of fallow. This practice helps restore soil fertility, manage pests and diseases, and improve overall soil health. So, like before I headed into my cottage to see if the internet was up and running as I had a few things my mind was desperate to know.

Opened up the laptop and wala the internet was back up again and I was ready to go, full steam ahead. First phrase was ‘Hell hath no fury as a woman scorned’ The internet came up with; (No one is angrier than a woman who has been rejected in love. This proverb is adapted from a line in the play The Mourning Bride, by William Congreve, an English author of the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries). So, Magic must have promised this young girl that he was going to marry her and then she found out he was still married. So, it made perfect sense, all her dreams of getting married, raising a family and living happy ever after was a romance scam. I did feel truly sorry for her because she was young, naive and now realized men tell lies or men tell them what they want to hear. 

With that one now put to bed, I was on to my other new phrase which consisted of why the number seven is so important in the bible. (In many spiritual and religious contexts, the number 7 is associated with completeness, perfection, and spiritual awakening. It's often seen as a symbol of divine order and the culmination of a cycle). In the end there was that much to take in regarding the number seven in the bible that I was slowly getting the picture. Things never stay the same it’s only the cycle that stays the same. In life, when one breathes in then we expand and when we breathe out, we contract. So, everything seems to follow this procedure of expand and contract in life. That’s probably the reason our economies continue to follow boom and bust cycles even when we know it’s going to happen but don’t believe it. We would rather be a part of the crowd rather than be an outsider looking in, the emotion of feeling wanted again. Even when we have all the money toys it still can’t shine a light on real love. So, the next word to be bumped into the internet was the definition of love.

The internet came up with; (An intense feeling of deep affection or a great interest and pleasure in something or feel deep affection for someone or like or enjoy very much). Feeling seemed to be involved so I looked up the definition of ‘feel’. (Be aware of a person or object through touching or being touched or experience an emotion sensation which can lead to excitement). I was now getting to the bottom of human beings being emotional animals who react emotionally and can’t really stop themselves from reacting emotionally. Gran had obviously stumbled on this experience and was now in a position to exploit it for the good of her family but she needed me to act out her methods.

This deep affection reminded me of my young days when I worked as a joiner on building sites around Strathclyde. Big Bob one of the workers was single and never had a good word to say about woman. I must have discussed it with gran and she told me he must have been rejected in life and never got over it. Being young, I asked him if a girl had let him down when he was young and in love. He almost hit the roof with anger and from that moment on had taken a great dislike in me. Fairly soon he was spreading gossip about me, trying to manipulate other workmates to hit me. I didn’t understand what it was all about till decades later and I realized he could never accept their love was over and he chose to live in bitterness. I had caused his memory emotional pain so he was trying to inflict physical pain on me, just to balance his mind. God help the poor man because he was a great joiner and wasted his life languishing in bitterness.

I could now get myself a large mug of coffee which consisted of bone Chine. Before I left, I always wondered why it was called bone China so like before Google would find me the answer. (Bone china is a lightweight and durable ceramic. Its unique properties come from the materials it's made of. These materials include bone ash, feldspar, kaolin, and clay. Bone china is renowned for being translucent but incredibly strong. The bone ash came from animal bones). With my conscience resolved I made for the kitchen to make my coffee from New Latin beans with a roast strength of five. I could now relax and wait for the saxophone (horn) signal from gran telling me Livy had been and gone and I had to head back to the hall again.

                                         Chapter 6 as in hexagon  

It was now getting near dinner time and I still hadn’t heard anything so I felt in limbo. Five minutes later I heard an electric gate closing and I knew what to expect. I didn’t need to wait long when the horn sounded and gave me the signal to pop back up again. Panda and I made our way back up the monoblock driveway and half way up Biggles the hall’s black labrador was heading down the way. The moment he met us he turned heels well paws and headed back up with us. I now felt like Johnny Morris from Animal Magic program being followed by my two furry friends. If one continues to feed them then one will have a friend for life, I began to notice. The moment the food stops then they are off a bit like supermodels in the gossip columns.

Just like magic, the moment my foot was on the hall’s first stone step the big entrance door, would swing open and gran sporting her usual Charlie Chan expression. “Hi Michael funny to see you again” Gran said. “Yes unbelievable, I feel as if I’m playing the Hokey Cokey” I replied. We all went in and I headed for the kitchen to give Biggles some dog biscuits and Panda disappeared into the living room to get her seat before anyone else took it. I made a cup of coffee and brought it into the living room before I received my orders regarding the next plan of attack.

Gran was sitting at the tea table again so I decided to sit on the lovely Chesterfield again next to Panda because I knew this wasn’t going to be a five-minute chat. Gran threw over a set of keys and I starred at them waiting for my instructions. You have to take a taxi to police training centre tomorrow (Sunday) and get measured for your special new uniform. Magic has a medium size van with a towbar parked there and you have to drive it up to his home in the Highlands. While he is away, he has decided to have a small extension built and the builders need a mini digger. On route you have to pop into the fire service training centre where you will find a trailer and a mini digger on it like before. All you have to do is hitch it onto the van and away you go to Magic’s love nest, sorry I mean home. See how simple is that, and what could possibly go wrong.

A lot, am I insured for the van? How do I buy fuel for the van? Do I have the keys for his house? Do I have the keys for the mini digger and do these keys fit the van? “Why do you worry about all these trivial things” Gran said. I replied “Because I remember the last time you sent me on a nice little trip with the mini digger for old Michael. Drove for three hours down south to take it to his archaeology dig and ended up at the wrong one, and then when I got to the right one, I didn’t have the keys for the mini digger and ended up having to hotwire it”. “Well at least you fulfilled our objective and look on the bright side, SDO Michael told you how to get it started without a key”. I answered “Yes, but I don’t like having my fingerprints all over the key barrel, they may think I’m up to something” Gran replied “Just say they are SDO Michael’s because the five of you all have the same fingerprints and he is in charge of training and has to train cadets when they get a vehicle on fire or mini digger”.

I replied “Righty ho, so I take the trailer up to Magic’s home and leave it there, and then what”? Gran answered “All you do is drive the van back to the police training centre where Deepfry will be waiting with your van, and wages then all you do is give him a lift home”. I replied “It sounds too good to be true but should be a nice little earner so I’ll need to think about it”. Gran butts in, “Don’t think too hard because all it will do is give you a headache, all it comes down to is an easy way to trouser some money”. I stood up and decided to head home for my evening meal or vigil mass and Biggles had swapped places with Panda who was snoring her head off on the other luxury Chesterfield. As I made my way down the sandstone steps I decided to turn round and look at gran who was now smiling and wiggling her fingers at head height which means take care danger is all around you.

Biggles and I now headed back down the monoblock driveway to my little cottage in the corner, next to the newly fitted electric gates. Gran got them fitted by some blacksmith who was doing work for the fire service and she never paid a penny for them. I think an old fire station was getting replaced and she managed to rescue the gates which by chance, would have it, were only fitted a year before and she was involved in their design. I remember when she visited the old station, she told the mechanics not to tighten the bolts because they might have to be removed when the station gets renovated. In the end it never got renovated but demolished because the Firemaster decided to build a new station in-between both stations and knock down both of them and sell off the land which made perfect sense. Handy for gran because she received the new electric gates which were surplus to requirements. I knew sometime in the future I would masquerade as Paul the Painter and be made to paint those bloody gates with fire brigade black hydrant paint. There was a pattern emerging from gran, she never paid for anything, due to her influence or contacts or probably both. She could make your life hell if one upset her, so nobody ever tried too.

Back in the cottage I opened a can of dog food for Biggles to devour. Then I decided to get ready for church because I wouldn’t make it tomorrow and I needed all the Devine Inspiration that God could fling at me. I would need to head up early so I could squeeze in half an hour of praying for a peaceful day tomorrow. I decided to take my small Berlingo van which was nice and clean from yesterday’s hour at the fire station and let Biggles saunter back up to the hall. You can always tell when one works at a fire station because their car is always spotless or van in my case.

The moment I got into church I headed straight for the sacristy to hopefully bump into father Bacon. The priest and I had a good chat regarding who had died, who is suffering from sickness and most of all who has won their weekly raffle. Most of it is in their bulletin but sometimes they forget and leave things out and I end up chasing my tail trying to arrange a funeral. With the business side completed, I decided to kneel down in my usual pew and pray that my adventure tomorrow would go without a hitch. Then I realized I would be hitching up the trailer so I decide on plain sailing. Then I realized I would be traveling over a dodgy bridge so I scrapped the idea and decided to listen to the hymns that the church was now playing. Deep down I knew something would go wrong and when I get that feeling it generally does.

After church I headed for McDonalds for my three-course dinner, I could keep the receipt and gran would refund me through her expenses. She was in charge of petty cash at the hall and as long as I provided a meal receipt she could refund me the money. I don’t think I have every paid for a main meal due to gran’s diligence in her art of bookkeeping. I like to take in the scenes when I was eating out so I decided to park next to the helipad near the city center. I have found a way of listening into radio frequencies on my scanner that was broken and the fire service binned it. Lucky I was on hand to rescue it, and hand it over to Magic to have a look at it. He managed to fix it and gave it back to me so I could hand it back to the station but I had a memory lapse and forgot what station it came from, so I kept it.

It was a very quiet night for a Saturday so I looked up to the sky and saw why. There was a new moon in the sky which meant everything was just beginning and wouldn’t be full for another two weeks. The show was over for another night and I decided to head home and have an early night before the early start tomorrow.

                                   Chapter Seven as in heptagon

Next morning I was up like a lark because one was singing its head off. A quick shower and I was ready to call a taxi to take me to the training centre. As I was standing outside, I remembered to wrap my keys in a plastic bag and place them in my van’s exhaust for Deepfry to find them later in the day. This was our operational procedure when we had to deliver and retrieve vehicles. As I stood outside the gates the taxi pulled up and it was Peter the pilot who was driving it. He was also a retained firefighter and his official job was flying holiday passengers abroad. He only seemed to work half the time as ordinary workers because of the total hours he was allowed to fly in a year. He was telling me that he had reached 450 hours which was half his yearly total, so driving the taxi filled in his gaps. Before he dropped me off, he was saying he and Ramond the roofer would be at the station tomorrow night for our weekly drill night.

I waved him goodbye and entered the training centre where a few of the crew from nightshift were still working or sitting drinking coffee. One of the guys let me try on some shoes, shirts, trousers and a jumper to get my sizes to process my new uniform. With that complete I was good to go and headed out to the nearly new van that was awaiting me. As I switched it on, my eyes narrowed in on the fuel gauge which to my delight was nearly full. Away I went to my next stop just up the road to the other training centre to hitch up the trailer and check that the mini digger was working. I noticed the nail file was still in the barrel so I didn’t even need a key and to my amazement it started first time. Nipped into the station to fill my flask and tell the guys I was good to go and they waved me good bye. Everything seemed to go like clockwork but I still had the A9 in front of me.

The moment I reached Perth I decided to pull into a layby and take a coffee break so I could stretch my legs. Nice morning was developing and it was the start of summer, looked at my watch and it was just before 8am. I decided to look in the back of the van and there was an old toolbox, small camp bed and a small folding stepladder then I realized Magic used to take this van down to race meetings. He probably stayed the night in the van rather than book a room for the night. We all could never understand why he was so fascinated with racing and trying to make it as a bookie. I thought bookmakers always win till he employed me as his runner. I spent all day at the race track logging all the prices so I could hand them over to him. At the end of the day we had made a miserly tenner, what a complete waste of time and energy I thought and never visited a race course again because I understood that was the only way to win and I have won ever since.

The A9 was quiet so away I went, I had 90 miles in front of me because his luxury home was just beyond Aviemore. I reckoned I could get there in less than two hours if all went well. There was one tricky bit which involved a narrow bridge, which was always getting its sandstone walls bashed by long vehicles. Their satnav would take them a short cut but never told them that the bridge could only handle one way traffic at a time. Many a time the side of a lorry would scrap along the wall to make it over the bridge. It saved the driver over an hour so they would take their chances. Most of the A9 still had to be dueled and I would be driving on at least three sections so there was no point getting angry. I just had to sit at a steady 50mph and everything would be fine. It was now 10am and everything had gone well, I was now coming off the A9 and heading up a B road where the narrow bridge was built.

I could have screamed; there was a large boat on the bridge. As I got closer, I began to see the problem. Some character towing a large boat had managed to wedge it on the trailer on top of the bridge. I parked up and went over to see him who was now scratching his head. The trailer was actually fine it was the side of the boat that was jammed between the sandstone walls. He was in a precarious situation because no matter which way we moved it the boat was getting damaged. After a good look around it all came down to the top course of the sandstone wall, if it had been six inches smaller, he would have made it. I decided to get the flask out again and have a strong cup of coffee because we both needed it. Hamish and I sat on the wall drinking our coffee staring at the beautiful boat.

Returning the flask to the van I remembered the toolbox in the back of the van. I decided to have a rumble inside it and like a miracle there was an old mash hammer and a long cold chisel. With a big smile I grabbed them and told Hamish, you are lucky that in my last life I was a stone mason. I managed to get round the other side of the boat and hammer away at the copping stone. It took me about ten minutes to remove the first stone and I had about twenty to dislodge. The moment the first one came loose I gave it to Hamish and told him to put it in the back of my van so I will fit them back in a later life. Hamish was now smiling like the cat who got the cream and his boat would soon be free. It took us two hours to remove all the copping stones and the traffic began to build up. In the end we received a standing ovation when the boat was set free. I received about twenty sandstone copping stones and away we went our separate ways.

Although I see myself as a bridge basher, everyone else seen me as the Pontif or bridge builder because they could all safely drive over it. At last, I reached my final destination but the gates were closed. Got out and opened Magic’s gates and decided to reverse the trailer up the drive at the side of his house. Reversing was not my strong point so old JR came out and decided to guide me. It took us half an hour to get the trailer in the exact position. Then JR went round the trailers tyres and deflated them which seems to be the standard procedure in the Highlands to deter thieves. I then showed him inside the van and asked if he wanted any sandstone copping stones but he had more stones than a Japanese rockery. He must have felt sorry for me and asked me inside for lunch so I could tell him the story regarding the bridge because he had been trying to get it modernized for years.

He had a lovely house and we took lunch out on his south facing patio. I was telling him how the boat got stuck on the bridge and I had to remove all the copping stones on one side of the bridge to free it. He then began to tell me an armful of stories regarding that bridge. I was even thinking it was haunted and why the council had never upgraded it. It all came down to where all the councillors lived. Not one councillor lived anywhere near that bridge and were lucky to travel over it once a year. So, it was way down in their list of priorities and the cost was way up in their list of non-priorities, which meant it was lucky it was there in the first place. Next minute JR nipped in the house and came out swinging a tennis racket, trying to bat a seagull. He was telling me they are the bane of many people’s lives up here. Due to the wild life act no one was allowed to shot them now and they were breeding like rabbits. He was trying to get the capercaillie numbers up which meant he had also taken an instant dislike to pine martins.

Then he moved on to black grouse numbers and were currently classified on the red list species, indicating high conservation concern. If was now becoming obvious that he was an ornithologist or away with the birds so I just kept nodding my head to keep him happy. I suppose there’s not much to do up here bar study wild life, trees, fish or dabble in making alcohol. Anyway, my mission had been accomplished and the digger was safely stored behind his large metal gates, all I had to do was wrap a chain round them and fit a padlock. Give JR one key and put the other key through Magic’s letterbox and I was free to meander down the road again.

                                    Chapter 8 as in Octagon

Well, it was 2pm and I reckon I would make it back to the training station for a tad over 4pm if all went well. As I approached the bridge again, I couldn’t help admiring my handy work. The moment I got over the bridge I heard a bang so pulled up at the same spot as I had before. I got out and looked around and all I could see was a flat metal plate that bricklayers use. It must have come from the copping stones I had removed earlier. After looking around I checked the underside of the van and could hear a low hissing sound. The pattern was slowly emerging and the back tyre was slowly deflating just like my ego. My front tyre had flipped up this metal plate and it had struck the side of my back tyre and made a slight hole. All I had to do was look for the spare wheel and swap them over.

I looked over the van from top to bottom and no spare wheel. All I could find was a can of tyre foam sealant for temporary repair and a plug-in contraption that inflates tyres. I decide to call the AA until I realized I didn’t have a phone signal. No wonder gran calls this place the back of beyond, nothing seems to work. I couldn’t even call the Samaritans for spiritual guidance because they had closed their call centre up here and my chance of someone coming to my rescue was next to zero so all I could do was use my imagination. This was telling me I had to continue to carry my burden even if I had to stop every five miles or so. I got out the tyre inflator and let it do God’s work while pressing my thumb on the tear to try and stop the leak. Once it was full of air I had to fill the tyre with foam. Slowly some foam appeared from the tear and I was good to go.

Feeling elated with myself I headed for the A9 again and I didn’t even get round the corner and the tyre had run flat again but at least I had a one bar signal on the mobile. I decided to call the AA and see how they could come to my rescue. The signal was coming and going so I decided to take matters into my own hands and climb on the roof of the van and place the small stepladder on top. This made a great difference and I told them exactly where I was, south side of Tulloch bridge, the one where all the vehicles get stuck. The girl knew exactly where I was and said she had a recovery vehicle on the north side of it. It was only a matter of time that the fourth emergency service would be coming to my rescue. Before I descended from the roof of the van, Hamish my new friend gave me a wave as he drove by still pulling the boat.

The moment I got back down to terra firma a shocking thought shot through my mind. It was a vision of Hamish getting stuck on the bridge again. I shook it off and jumped into the van to relax and listen to the radio. After a short while I received a call from the AA guy who was telling me some clown had jammed a boat on the bridge and he couldn’t get over. I told him not to worry because it will be set free fairly soon. I decided to reverse the van back up to the bridge and put the radio volume up to cancel the road noise. I felt a sense of Déjà vu when I went to collect the tools from the back of the van. I also had a quick look at where the tyre used to be. It was now torn to pieces and a new tyre was the order of the day.

Made my way to the bridge and Hamish was happy to see me and even more so when he saw the tools I was carrying. The boat had now become stuck on the copping stones on the other side of the bridge, so like before I began removing them and Hamish began to fling them into the back of the van. The AA guy now came down to see what was going on. We all had a good laugh when we told him we have experience in removing copping stones by pointing at the other wall on the bridge. This time it only took us an hour because we knew what we were doing. Fairly soon Hamish was on his merry way and I would be happy if I never saw him or his damn boat in this lifetime. 

The AA guy drove over the bridge and parked in front of my van. He lifted out a trolly jack and pulled it over and under the van. Within minutes he had the wheel off and then began to look around. I asked what he was looking for and he said the spare wheel. I handed him the can of foam tyre repair and he launched it into the bushes. He thought it would have been a five-minute job and now he had to take the wheel away to a tyre centre for a new made to measure tyre to fit the wheel. He was not a happy chappie because he had a prior engagement later on or so he thought. Away he went cursing and swearing and all I could do was stare at the smaller bridge and think this is truly cursed. I decide to call Deepfry and let him know I was going to be very late and he would be better waiting till I called him before travelling. Away I went with eyes down for a one bar signal.

A nice easy day had now become a nightmare and it was getting near 5pm so not much would be open especially on a Sunday. I thought at least if I’m stranded, I always have the camp bed in the back to get my head down. Hour after hour I waited and still no sign of the Michelin man then my phone rang. It was him to tell me he would be there in half an hour. So, I decided to go for a walk back to the bridge and stare down at the water which was crystal clear. They say that’s the reason us Scots make the best whisky. I thought it was more to do when peat is burned in the malting process of single malt whisky production to dry the barley and impart a smoky, earthy flavor. The burning peat releases phenolic compounds, which are absorbed by the barley and contribute to the characteristic smoky taste of peated whiskies.

Alleluia, the AA guy was now back carrying a spare saver wheel and telling me I was lucky to get it. Someone had left it at an airport when storing luggage in the back of their car, so he dropped by and picked it up. It was the same dimensions as the spare so it would need to do. It meant I couldn’t exceed 50mph and with all the copping stones in the back, I didn’t intend too. We both went our merry ways and the A9 was now in front of me. The moment I drove down the slip road onto the A9 I felt I was nearly home or nearly away. It was now going on 8pm and I had at least a two-hour drive ahead of me. Surely nothing could go wrong, it was a new van and still had half a tank of fuel in it.

I made a pitstop at Perth and called Deepfry to meet me up at Balfron railway station in an hour’s time because I have some copping stones I need to unload. These could be used for a small landscape job we had planned in our station’s front garden before our annual flower show. I never even made Balfron because a pair of rutting stags had other ideas. I was a mile from the station when I drove round a blind bend and hit one of them square on the head. The other stag bolted and I was left with a dead one attached to my bumper and grill. I remembered there was a hacksaw in the toolbox, so I fetched it and cut through the antler and pulled the poor animal to the side of the road, maneuvered the van onto the grass verge and called Deepfry to drive up as soon as possible because this is now become an emergency. 

The moment Deepfry appeared I told him to give me a hand and we both flung the animal straight into the van. My train of thought was cash and any butcher would take it off our hands and we could make a few bob in the process. We both decided to sort out the copping stones in the morning because the antler was still wedge in the bumper and it had even pierced the radiator. Removing it meant the van would overheat so we just left it in place and headed for the police training centre. The light was fading fast and so was the fuel gauge which was now on red. When we reached the centre, Deepfry had opened the gates and in I went to park the van. Wasn’t sooner out the van that I heard strange noises coming from inside the van so I opened the back door and out staggered the stag. I thought I was dreaming but decided to leg it into my van and told Deepfry to put the foot down. I told him I wasn’t hanging about for the steward’s enquiry and we will discuss it tomorrow night at the drill night.

The next day I hadn’t heard anything and thought the stag must have headed for the hills and no one was any the wiser. At the drill night the usual suspects were all there, Peter the pilot, Remy the roofer, Deepfry the mechanic, a detached guy called Paul the plumber and myself. We first took a tea break and discussed what’s the program for the night. The TV was on the wall in front of the table and the news is always on but no one pays much attention to it until the news presenter mentions a bizarre event. He was saying that the police training center opened up to an unusual visitor this morning. A stag missing one antler which was strutting around their carpark. On further inspection the other one was stuck in the grill of a van which was parked in their carpark. To top it all the van was full of sandstone copping stones. So, if you are a shepherd who has lost a one antler stag or a landscaper who has lost the top of your wall then you know where to collect them from. Good night. We all looked at each other and burst out laughing.