Round 4 Cluedo Game.

Sorry for the delay in getting my contribution up. It been a tough week.

Note:

Knock off time – end of the working day.

Coldie – a cold beer

Local – the pub where you and your mates always go to have a drink.

Cobber – mate

Guy – fool/comic figure

xxxx

It was nearly knock off time on a Friday afternoon when an old truck with "Collo's Reliable Gas - no job to small" written across its side panel pulled around the back of the large fancy house.

The driver, a stocky bloke with a large shining face and a distinct paunch, leant back in his seat. It had been a long day and the only thing he was keen to move for was a coldie at his local.

"Righto young fella, they reckon this is a pretty simple job. Just a slight leak she said. You go in and take a look, let me know if you need us."

Young Hugh Collins, suppressed a sigh. It had indeed been a long day. His uncle and boss had spent a lot of it with his feet up drinking tea and flirting with housemaids whilst his apprentice had worked under verbal direction. Not for the first time, Hugh regretted his choice of going to work for his uncle instead of joining the Police Force as he'd really wanted. The problem had been his mother of course. Her late husband's brother Frank had promised to leave the business to Hugh if he came and worked for him. Hugh's mother, had worked long and hard to convince him that the financial security and safety of one outweighed his wish to follow in his father's footsteps.

His Uncle's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Come on cobber, get a move on. Beer's getting warm." Hugh got moving, climbing out of the truck and collecting his tool box from the back before stepping up to the kitchen door and knocking.

The sight of the vision that opened the door nearly had him drop the heavy box on his own foot.

"Gah!" He struggled awkwardly for a moment, trying to maintain his grip with trembling fingers, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, gasping for intelligible words.

"Are you all right?" The vision had the voice of an angel, soft and sweet. Melting like her beautiful brown eyes.

"Gah...Guday..."

"Who is it Dorothy?" A querulous voice sounded from the depths of the kitchen.

"I think it's the gas plumber Mrs Cook. I don't think he's very well." That bought Hugh to his senses. He quickly moved to assure the angel called Dorothy.

"No, no. I'm fine, sorry. I just uh... choked... um... I'm Hugh. I mean I'm Hugh Collins from 'Collo's Reliable Gas'."

"Oh yes of course, Mr Collins. I'm the maid, Dorothy Williams. Please come in." The pretty girl stepped aside, her shy smile giving no clue to the strange fluttering under the bodice of her grey pinafore.

She led him to the gas oven and explained the problem before returning to her seat at the kitchen table, where she had been preparing vegetables for the evening meal. There was a distinct feeling of anticipation in the air as the young man set down his tool box and set to work. Occasionally, one of them would try to start a conversation.

"Uh, it was a nice day today wasn't it Miss Williams?"

"Yes, lovely. The sky was very blue."

.

.

.

"Have you been a plumber for long Mr Collins?"

"Just a year miss. I apprentice for my Uncle Frank."

"Oh. That's nice."

"Yes."

.

.

.

Hugh looked around at the pretty maid with her milk and cream complexion, wanting to ask if she'd like to go to the cinema with him, but was unable to find words. He smiled instead and Dorothy smiled back. Hugh returned to his work.

"Um..."

.

.

As he tightened the replaced joint with his wrench, he mind was worrying at his courage. Suddenly Hugh stood up, wrench still in hand and swung round to point it at the startled young woman, all but shouting in his determination.

"Pictures!" He stood frozen for a moment before realising that he'd made a guy of himself. Blushing he lowered he arm and tried again. "Um, sorry... I meant to say... that is... do you like the moving pictures?"

"Um, yes... I enjoy the pictures." Her eyes were wide with surprise. Mortified, Hugh turned back to the stove and set down his wrench. His courage had now completely deserted him.

"Err, I better get moving. My uncle's waiting in the truck." He knelt down and packed away his tools. Acutely aware of the silent girl behind him, Hugh fumbled with the access panel to the stove which seemed to be stuck. Close to panic he gave it a violent shove, the vibration causing the wrench that he'd carelessly left on top of the stove to fall and hit him on the head. Poor Hugh saw stars.

"Oh Mr Collins!" Dorothy rushed to his aid. "Are you all right?" The young woman leant over him to examine his scalp. "You haven't broken the skin, but you're going to have quite a large bump."

Only moments ago, Hugh would have been thrilled to have her so close, touching him even, but now all he could focus on was the pain in his head and the sinking of his heart. For, as the girl had leaned down, a silver cross had slipped out from the collar of her dress and was now swinging in front of his nose. Hugh swallowed his disappointment.

"You're a Catholic."

"Sorry?"

"You're Catholic and I'm a Protestant."

"Oh." Dorothy was surprised to find tears prickling behind her eyes as she understood his words. She stood up.

"I'd better go. I'm sorry." Still dizzy, Hugh scrambled to his feet and collected his tool box.

"Of course Mr Collins." Dorothy recollected herself. "What do we owe you?"

"One and six should cover it Miss." Hugh responded automatically, desperate to get away. He accepted payment and tipped his cap before making for the door.

"Wait!" He spun back to her so fast that he almost fell. Dorothy was standing holding out his wrench.

"Thank you Miss Williams." He accepted the tool and paused. "I..."

"I know Mr Collins... Goodbye."

As he left, they both couldn't help feeling that the world was somehow a sadder place.