The Blue Truck

Paul Bradley

Robbie started his old Fiesta on the fifth attempt and headed for Lipton on sea. It was a favourite destination in the summer as a lad when the whole family would catch an open top bus near the estate laden with crisps, banana sandwiches, vimto, buckets and spades.  He drove robotically, deep in thought.  His recent girlfriend had found someone new and changed her relationship status on facebook, news that had reached him through an e-mail update. He’d been unable to resist looking at her pictures of joy with this new, immaculately dressed happy man. One was taken at the restaurant Robbie and Linda had visited on their very first date. Comments from mutual friends congratulated her on finally finding that special someone she deserved. Some of those same friends had asked Robbie in person what he thought about the news and had done so, each of them, with a keen eye for his response. One friend pursued the subject straight away, barely able to conceal his glee. Robbie had acted casually, claiming her right to do as she pleases. Once it’s over it’s over. He unfollowed Linda on Facebook so that he would not receive any posts and deactivated his account temporarily.

Then there was that smug fellow at work who had been given the supervisor job they had both applied for at the tile factory recently. The same fellow whose family had been the first on the estate to buy their house under Thatcher’s right to buy scheme and immediately repainted the front door so everyone knew about it. A brusque handshake from his rival and a ‘better luck next time’ spoken with fake solemnity did nothing to diminish the hope that the new supervisor would fail miserably in his new role. The best candidate got the job, Robbie told everyone, no point in hard feelings, just get on with it.  Around the same time he’d received a phone call from his parents inviting him to his younger sister Sheila’s forthcoming PhD award ceremony.  Of course he would attend, nothing would stop him, she’d done well and worked hard. Not bad for a girl from a council estate, the rough end of it too where unwanted furniture rots in the gardens. Robbie had dropped out of university but everyone could be proud of Sheila the achiever.  Dr Sheila, no less.