On the Brink of ...

The other week I had a very lopsided week that balanced out overall, through a particularly demanding Friday.  This week has been totally different, but merited the same headline, "Mustn't Grumble".  Having used it so recently, though, I felt I couldn't be so boring, so instead, I'm looking forward to my holiday, which is why this post is published just a little earlier than usual.

The boss has been on holiday this week, so a different mind has been controlling my activities.  Though equally efficient, this chap has a totally different way of working, and in many ways this week has shown me just how 'typecast' one can become to he who is doing the casting!  Certain jobs that come up regularly and which have often been my lot have disappeared from my job sheet, although I'd be willing to bet (if I were a wagering sort) that they've been done, but by someone else.  Instead, I've had a varied and interesting, if demanding, week, in which I've earned more in four days than in many a five-day week.

The week began with the men's breakfast at church, which I've had to miss for two weeks because of an early start.  I had been given a job, but it was a 9.0 collection in Cambridge for Luton, so I was able to make it in good time after leaving my friends.  As soon as I was back from this, the change of controller was obvious.  Instead of the customary comfortable wait until the next job should come along, I was immediately whisked off to collect, with the instruction, "ring when you're loaded", which usually carries the implication that, if there's room in the van, another job will be forthcoming to accompany it.  Thus it was that I then set off for Maidenhead and Dorchester, from which I returned just too late for bellringing practice.

This set the pattern for the next day, which started with a job to Milton Keynes, followed quickly by Eaton Socon with Lichfield.  Wednesday began with a couple of regulars, that haven't come up for a few weeks, firstly to Haverhill, and then on to collect at West Suffolk Hospital in Bury St Edmunds for the laboratory in Royston.  Following that came what was the event amusement of the week; when I reported in detail to the office, the response was only half intelligible through the laughter, "I won't tell a soul about that ... only everybody!"  It seemed quite a normal job when I collected it: a heap of equipment piled onto a pallet and shrink-wrapped.  It was just light enough for two burly men to lift onto the van manually, although when I tried to adjust its position, I couldn't budge it.

It was going to an address in Horley, Surrey, but when I got there I discovered that this was in fact not an industrial estate as I'd expected, but an ornamental office block on the outskirts of Gatwick Airport.  Suspecting trouble, I announced to the receptionist that I had a pallet of equipment for such-and-such a firm, and was told, "That's OK, bring it in, please."  I explained patiently that this was a pallet, and although two men had loaded it, so it wouldn't require a fork-truck, it would need a couple of men to get it off the van.  The receptionist called her supervisor, an equally slim and smart young lady, who immediately took charge.  Stepping boldly forth on her high heels, she came out to look at the problem.  "Can we get it off together?" she asked, almost daring me to suggest that we couldn't.  I eyed her business suit, but agreed that this was worth a try.  I stayed outside with the van while she went in to change her shoes.

She emerged a moment later accompanied by the receptionist, similarly shod in 'flatties', and a older woman, who was quickly instructed to "hold the door open."  While she held one door, and I held the other, these two un-amazon-like athletes grasped the offending consignment as if it were no more than a single plank of wood, and in a trice had deposited it on the floor of the reception area.  As I waited for a signature, one of them told me that the company whose goods they were was no longer there, but had phoned a few hours previously to say they were expecting a delivery, and would these good souls receive it for them?  I think that may be the last time such a favour is granted!

After an evening delivery of some medicine to Papworth hospital, I managed a few hours' rest before the busiest Thursday for many a month.  I had been given a gentle 'circuit' of three jobs before leaving for Papworth, starting with a 7.30 collection in Stevenage for Milton Keynes, to be followed by Nuneaton to Foxton and then Cambridge to Royston.  I rang in once I'd had five minutes to cool down after this (suspecting, quite correctly, that there would be little respite otherwise), and was promptly sent to collect two deliveries in Northampton before meeting another driver to be given one for Wigston on the outskirts of Leicester.  One after another, I presented these goods to someone about to leave for home, finally making Wigston by 5.55 pm!  Twice this week, I've enjoyed an evening meal at the truckstop; the first time for several weeks, yesterday's making a fitting end to this half of the year.

Today has seen me up almost at work time, in order to have my tyres and steering checked over,  get the van cleaned inside and out, and generally prepare to spend a week flitting between the Channel Islands.