Postcards to America by Patrick Ingle Read Free Book Online Page B

Liam….
    ‘I like my sex to be regular. You know…. When I am doing it. I want it to be like the ticking of a clock. You know, with a regular beat.’
    “Punctual” Mary opened her eyes to find the doctor’s medallion inches from her face. The doctor pulled back and added to his notes.
    “Punctual” Mary looked at her watch and noted the time. The session finished, she slipped off the lounger.
    Dr. Myers stood and looked at his notes before speaking. ‘Serious “chase”. Good start made. Many sessions “feeded” before we find a cure. My receptionist will give you your next “assignment”.
    ‘Your next appointment is in two weeks.’ The receptionist handed “Punctual” Mary a card. ‘Your time is on the card.’
    “Punctual” Mary turned to leave.
    ‘You don’t have a cigarette, do you?’ The receptionist glanced at the inner door.
    ‘Sorry,’ “Punctual” Mary replied.
    Out on the pavement “Punctual” Mary threw the appointment card in the first rubbish bin she spotted.

Chapter 4

Bobby Byrnes
    The white car – with its lights on and windscreen wipers working despite the day being bright and dry – turned slowly into the street and parked outside the large shed that bore the legend. “QUALITY VEHICLES”. The sound of banging coming from the interior of the shed drowned out the sound of the vehicle’s engine. The middle-aged woman driver hooted the horn and wound down the window of the car.
    Bobby Byrnes emerged from the interior of the shed, his face wreathed in a smile. ‘How are you this morning?’ Bobby spoke as if he meant what he said.
    ‘I am not happy. I am not happy at all,’ the middle-aged woman replied. ‘As I told you in our telephone conversation last evening when I made this appointment to see you, I paid you good money for this car and it’s not working properly. I have done a hundred and twenty miles since I bought this car from you and the mileage gauge has not moved. Are you sure the mileage shown on this gauge is correct?’
    Bobby’s face displayed deep concern that such a question could even be formulated. ‘Of course the mileage shown is correct. I stake my honour on it. Bobby reached through the open window and tapped the gauge. The needle did not move.
    As Bobby tapped the gauge a black car pulled into the kerb a few feet behind the white vehicle. The driver of the black car kept the engine running.
    ‘If you don’t fix my car to my complete satisfaction then I am going to go to the newspapers.’
    ‘No “saner” said than done.’ The sound of the word “newspapers” made Bobby say “saner” instead of “sooner”. Anyway, the events of the next few minutes would make her forget all about the newspapers.
    ‘Bring the car back in the morning and my mechanic will fix the problem for you. The gauge should only take a few minutes to put right. We are fully booked up today; otherwise, I would look at it straight away.’ Privately he reminded himself to give the mechanic a telling off for not setting the gauge properly.
    The middle-aged woman did not look happy but she said, ‘I will be here at nine in the morning.’
    Checking her seat belt, the middle aged woman drove away from the kerb. Behind her the black car pulled away from the sidewalk and drew alongside the white car just as the white car entered the traffic lane. With a crunch the white car slammed into the door of the black car.
    The young man exited the black car and began shouting. ‘Call the police! Call the police!’
    The middle-aged woman did not move. She was in a state of shock.
    Bobby stepped forward and intervened. ‘No need to involve the police. We can settle this like adults. Is that what you want to do?’ He asked the shocked woman through the still opened window.’
    The woman nodded assent.
    ‘Come in and I will make you a nice cup of tea. It will calm your nerves. My mechanic will move the cars off the road. No need to involve the law.’
    Bobby directed the woman