THE CHEESE AND PICKLE SANDWICH
“ Fourteen across; Mythical winged-creature can burn, six
letters.” said Doug.
“Yeah, that bird thing, a phoenix!” declared Fat Fred.
“No. That doesn’t fit with Goering…”
“Dragon,” said Col peering over his Morning Star. ”And keep it
down, I’m trying to read, you two should try it sometime.
“Yeah, thanks Col, that fits; phoenix.” said Doug contemptuously
looking over at Fat Fred.
“Cheese and pickle sandwich.” said Doug.
“How many letters?” asked Fat Fred.
“No, you plank, that’s what our Kath’s put in my lunch box. She
knows I hate pickle.”
“Thin end of the wedge old son.” said Fat Fred, reaching over and
taking the sandwich. “Waste not, want not,” he continued, spraying
bits of pickle across the loading bay steps they were sitting on, their
usual lunchtime haunt.
“What do you mean ‘thin end of the wedge’, you think it means
something? She has been narky lately. She’s started putting the
cap on the toothpaste and putting it back in the cabinet, she always
used to leave it off ready for me to use, with my toothbrush laid
next to it. And she’s not recording Eastenders on Tuesdays ‘cos I
miss it due to footie practice – what’s happening between Phil
Mitchell and the Branning brothers, I’ve no idea. Gonna make
practice this week Col, that ankle’s taking a long time to heal?”
“Mmm, sounds serious Doug, looking after her alright in the
bedroom department?” said Fat Fred, mischief dancing in his eyes.
“What, you think I’m not enough for her, she wouldn’t stray, not
our Kath. You know her well don’t you Col, she wouldn’t play away
would she?” said Doug, desperately staring at Col.
“No, no course not mate, faithful as a hound dog, your Kath” he
said, glaring over at Fat Fred.
“Well, what do I know?” said Fat Fred catching Col’s stare.
“Perhaps she’s just not feeling 100 per cent.”
“You thinks she’s ill, not cancer, she knocked smoking on the
head a few weeks ago, she’s a non-smoker like you now Col.
“Why does everybody say cancer every time someone’s ill it
could be anything, maybe she’s preggers” added Fat Fred.
‘No can’t be” said Doug.
“Well how do you know, she might be.”
‘I know alright. She’s not pregnant. He said staring at Fat Fred,
who was still munching on his cheese and pickle sandwich, crumbs
The hooter sounded and Doug and Fat Fred went back inside.
“Coming Col?” called Doug.
“Yeah, right behind you” he replied, glaring at the cheese and pickle
sandwich crumbs blowing across the steps in a sudden chill wind.