“Daddy, are you in there?”
“No.”
“Very funny. Come on, I need to use the bathroom, I’m going out in half an hour”
“It’s been a long and hard week, just give me a moment and I’ll be with you”.
“Where did you go? We haven’t seen you since last Sunday.”
“Let’s see. I tipped the first part of the load late on Monday. Then it was cross-county to a drop just north of the Border, tip and reload, head south, then south-west before finally coming home.”
“It must be great driving around all day in your truck; better than going to school, anyway. And I’ve had to do my paper round every morning.”
I learnt a bit myself, this week. Mind you, you’ve probably earned more.”
“Oh yeah, what have you learnt, then?”
It looks different, blotchy maybe, somehow marked, I don’t know. There’s something not quite right.
“There’s something not quite right, that’s what. During the week, I was overtaken by two foreign trucks, both from the same firm and obviously running together - too close together for my liking. They couldn’t care less about speed cameras or the possibility of being pulled over; they were gone in a flash.”
“Gone to bleedin’ Kantsommonzovakia.”
“Do you mind? Where did you hear language like that?”
“You.”
“Oh, well, yes, well don’t let your mother hear it, she doesn’t share our sense of humour.”
“Your sense of humour, you mean.”
“Our sense of humour my little princess, you always laugh at my jokes.”
“Dad, I never laugh at your jokes, because they are NOT funny.”
“Charming. Where is your mum, anyway?”
“In your bedroom. She muttered something about having to go on The Game, took one of her pills and went for a lie down”
“Diesel bill?”
“Arrived this morning”
“Thought so.”
They actually look like very faint lines; I can see them standing out against the rest of my forehead. No mistake, it’s almost like something’s been pressing against it.
“Does diesel cost that much money, then?”
“Enough to make me weep, sometimes.”
“You never cry. You said the only time you ever cried was in that film Convoy when Kris Kriswhatshisface drove his Mack through the brick wall of a jail and scratched all the chrome and paint”.
“That was a joke”.
“Ah, one of your jokes.”
“Don’t be cheeky. You don’t see many continentals in the queue for the pumps; I’ve learned that as well. They get their diesel a lot cheaper, do our European competitors.”
“Do they use that pink stuff mum says we should get?”
“Red stuff, and yes, in a way they do. They’re allowed to use fuel that costs less than we are forced to pay.”
“That’s not fair. Do they pay more road tax when they’re over here, because they get their diesel cheaper?”
“They don’t pay any road tax.”
“Cool. I’ve just decided on my choice of A Levels: French, German and Lorry Driving.”
Mmm, they’re definitely lines. And slowly, ever so slowly, they’re becoming more distinct. I think I can see a pattern emerging.
“You know your trouble, dad, you’re too nice. Mum says you let everyone walk all over you. She says, you pay all your bills, you keep the truck spotless, you don’t break the law. Mum says you should stand up to these people who demand money off you. Make them suffer for a bit. And DON’T give in so easily”.
“I’ll try.”
“Oh, by the way, can I take twenty pounds out of your wallet for tonight? We’re going to the swimming club.”
“No.”
“Please, Please.”
“Oh, OK then.”
Some are vertical, covering the entire height of my forehead, some are curved, and a couple look diagonal. It could be significant. Even the smallest things can be important.
“Why do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“You know, run a lorry for a living?”
“The food on your plate; the roof over your head; the money in your pocket.”
“No, you know what I mean. Why truck driving, of all things?”
“Freedom; personal satisfaction. And the trucks – ‘boys and toys’, as your mum says. “
“Mum says you think of nothing but trucks and always have. They dominate your life – and ours, for that matter. That’s why you can’t see what these people are doing to you. She says it’s always been the same.”
“Scania, my darling, that’s not true and you know it.
“But with everything seemingly stacked against you, why carry on?”
“I do wonder sometimes. There aren’t many other jobs that can see you fined for simply making a mistake – the police don’t go into offices and hand out tickets to workers who don’t do their paperwork properly. Or jobs where you’re away from home most nights. A job where the responsibility is such that you can be prosecuted for any number of reasons, yet when it comes to pay, well. A job where ….”
“Daddy, are you alright?”
“Sorry, I was getting a bit carried away. As I said, it’s been a long, hard week.”
I’ve got it! They’re letters. There’s an ‘M’ and, what? Yes, it’s a ‘U’ and, look there’s a ‘G’. I can see it all clearly now.
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