Tuesday 6 December 2011

Do Me A Favour, a short story in 988 words

My challenge this time was to write a short story (1000 words max.) on the theme of Timekeeping and this where I have reached so far - please comment!

Do Me A Favour

Alex Neville scanned the queue of traffic, noticed a prickly sensation in his calves, and suppressed the desire to leave the car and run, and keep running. He wondered whether he would have time to make a will before being executed.

Alex, known as Nev to his friends, was driving to a funeral. As joint owner of Neville Funeral Services, with his sister Rachel, he didn’t normally don the chauffeur’s hat but he was short staffed. He glanced in the rear view mirror to look at Mr Gambin and his sons. He could just about remember Mr Gambin’s father, whose unanglicised name had adorned ‘Gambini Ice Creams’.

Nev spoke into the intercom, “The radio says the Water Board are just finishing. We’ll start moving soon and we’ll be there in about 30 minutes, with luck.”

He heard Mr Gambin issue instructions in Italian, and felt the panic subside in an instant. This was it then.

Two hours previously Nev had driven his best black Mercedes up the Gambins’ brick-lined gravel drive and parked it in front of an even bigger model, wondering how many ice creams it was worth.

The Gambin boys, Georgie and Ricardo, were waiting for him.

“Hi Nev, how’s business?”

Georgie held out his hand.

“Good thanks. And on a glorious day like this it’s great to get out from behind the desk. I should do it more often.”

Ricardo slapped him on the shoulder.
“We’re off to the races this afternoon. Wanna come? Make a day of it?”

“It’s tempting, but no thanks. I’ve got to get back. Bodies don’t bury themselves you know.”

Nev started to apologise but Ricardo touched his cheek before he could speak.

“Pazienza Nev. Never mind. I’ve said the same thing a few times myself, you know?” He winked, stooping to get into the back seat, next to his father.

As the car inched past his old school Nev tried to contemplate his life without the Gambin family in it. If he had not been asked to bury the boys’ grandmother, back in the early days, he might never have learned how to run a business.

“Look” Mr Gambin had said, “you’ll be doing us a favour. A big favour. We don’t want strangers doing this for Nonna. You’re almost family. We’ll be very – what’s the word? Grateful – we’ll be very grateful.”

After that Mr Gambin had given him regular business advice. The family seemed to know everyone, and always recommended Nev when someone died, and no-one ignored advice from the Gambins.

That’s when he had earned his nickname, when he started the early morning jobs for the boys. They would wake him up, “Nev, can you do us a favour? We’ve bet this guy we can get his paralytic friend a ride home in a hearse. It’s a nice cash deal, and you’ll get your share.” They never gave him much notice so he had to get there quickly, and Alex Neville became Nev, short for ‘Never Late’.

He had quickly realised that his passengers were more dead than drunk, but by then he knew the Gambins’ lifestyle was paid for with a different type of Magnum.

With cars hooting all around him in a flurry of frustration, he remembered Mr Gambin telling him that punctuality was the reason he favoured him over his only serious business rival, Dalton.

“Being late is very bad Nev. It’s rude, it says that you think your time is more precious than other people’s. It’s something selfish people do. Non-caring people. Disrespectful people. Not people like me. Someone only makes me late once Nev. No second chances. Speak to the boys, they’ll tell you that.”

Nev suppressed the lump in his throat and started to plan the future of Neville Funeral Services. It was a sound business, and Rachel knew as much as he did about the back office, but she would have to get more involved with the public. Nev had always been diligent about promoting the business and Rachel had always been shy. That would have to change.

Her biggest problem would be Dalton, because he was a charmer, a presser of flesh, a smile for rent. He knew Dalton’s sympathetic sales pitch would have been more successful but for Nev’s reliability, because that was Dalton’s weakness. Being gregarious, generous, and forgiving to his staff led to regular slip ups. Flowers left behind, arriving late, taking days to reply to messages, these were small things but they did not go unnoticed. Dalton would certainly take a lot of business if Rachel didn’t up her game, and that wouldn’t be easy.

Nev drove past the cemetery, on to the wake at the hotel. He picked up his hat from the passenger seat but by the time he reached the back door, they were already standing in line.

Ricardo gripped his shoulders as he shook his head, “I am so sorry my friend, but you know how it is.”

Georgie held Nev’s head between his hands as he whispered in his ear, “For you Nev, it will be quick.”

Nev turned to Mr Gambin, held his gaze, and shook hands. “Mr Gambin, thank you for everything you have done for me.”

“Alex, I should call you Alex now, is there anything I can do for you before we say goodbye? Maybe it’s time for one last favour, this time from me?”

At that moment Nev realised what he must do. “Yes, there is one favour you can do for me. Don’t let Rachel arrange my funeral. No matter how much she insists, I don’t want her to do it. Tell her it would be too stressful. I want you to give the business to – Dalton. And whatever happens after that is in your hands.”

Mr Gambin raised his eyebrows, examined Nev’s face, and smiled. “Of course Alex. For you, anything. I will do as you ask. I understand - completely.”