The Island

          I had to get up at 5:30am this morning to get to a trial on the bloody Isle of Wight. This was no act of chance. The clerks were teaching me a lesson. They knew full well I wasn’t sick yesterday.

            I spent the day working on a miserable ASBO case. Imagine being sent all that way to deal with some little thug’s ASBO. The courts are in Newport, a city at the centre of the Island. So, as if it weren’t already bad enough that you have to catch a ferry to get to work in the morning, after a two hour train ride, you then have to get a connecting bus. What a joke.

On the way home, after an epic search, I finally found the correct bloody bus stop, complete with stationary bus and smoking bus driver. The driver was chatting to a girl with hair drawn sharply back from her face, I understand the correct term is ‘Croydon face-lift’.

            “Excuse me, is this the route 1 bus?”

            “There ain’t no other going from ‘ere mate.”

            He turned back to look at the girl again.

            “Ah, thank you… When do you leave?” I asked.

            “…”

            “Excuse me?”

            “…”

            “I’m sorry, I can’t hear you, I’m a bit deaf sometimes.” I attempted self-deprecation in the hope I wouldn’t be run over. The driver looked at the girl and rolled his eyes.”

            “Quarter past!” he shouted.

            It was ten past. After a couple of minutes the bus driver opened the doors and climbed in. The girl followed him. I moved forward to follow but the driver put out his palm to block my way: “over there mate” he pointed to a queue just down the road. I took a look at the girl and looked back at him. He remained impassive. I made my way wearily over to the designated spot.

            The bus pulled off and got to the queue before me. The driver let everyone on and started to close the door. I jumped on just in time and glared at him momentarily. Recovering my poise I asked for a single fare.

            “Two pound twenty.”

            “Here.”

            “That’s a fiver.”

            “Yes.”

            “I don’t take fivers.”

            “I just saw you take one from the last person.”

            “You couldn’t have, you only just made it through the doors.”

            “That’s a non-sequitur, and not a denial.”

            “What?”

            “Just give me my ticket please sir.”

            Grudgingly he took my money and gave me a ticket and change. I sat down. Fifteen minutes later the bus had emptied at various stops and only Croydon Girl, driver, an old lady and I remained. The old lady pressed the bell. The driver was gossiping away to CG. He went straight past the old lady’s stop without blinking. Eventually he noticed the ‘stop’ light and stopped at the next stop.

            “I pressed the bell for the last stop!” grumbled the lady on her way out, fairly.

            The driver grunted in response and CG glowered at her.

            So soon as she was safely off the bus, with the doors closed behind her, CG volunteered a brave remark:

            “Stupid old bitch. Doesn’t know what she’s on about. She didn’t press it at the last stop, don’t worry Gary, you didn’t do anything wrong. Stupid bitch.”

            At this I decided I’d had enough. This was just the sort of scenario that Ed would interrupt, and he’d be right to, although perhaps he’d’ve done it earlier.

            “Excuse me.” I said.

            Silence. Nobody looked at me.

            “Excuse me!” A little louder.

            After a few moments Gary replied, “What do you want?”

            “Well…” I started. “I have to say, you’ve no right to speak about a lady like that behind her back.”

            “Who the fuck…” He started.

            “No!” I interrupted him. “You just listen. You’ve no goddamn right at all. You must think yourselves so clever, the two of you.” CG jerked her head up; she’d been hoping to cow her way out of it. “You know your little bus route on your little island like the backs of your hands. A stranger comes amidst you and asks some reasonable questions displaying his ignorance of your little lives and you rejoice. The two of you look at one another, unified in your dislike of the other but just as ignorant of each other’s reality. You’ve no idea what goes on outside your tiny bus route. You’ve no idea what I do at all, nor who that lady is or has been. One day you might just need some help and you might find that the only person to give it to you can’t quite be bothered to explain what you just can’t understand. Show a little human decency and grow up. Face the world properly and stop teaming up on people you’d be too scared to even look at were you on your own. And let me off, this is my stop.”

            Gary had brought the bus to a standstill. He gazed absently ahead and pressed the button to open the door.

            I stepped off the bus.

            “You fucking pig.” Yelled Cf-lG, as the doors closed.