The Pope Of Comber

Chapter 4

Wacky-races, Funny-Faces

Present day, the Manor House Comber, Co down, Northern Ireland

9:45 am the first day of location

William Baxter stood looking out the window of his office at the huge amount of vehicles filing into the 'Estate' grounds from every corner.

Lorries, buses, huge camper van type vehicles, he didn't even know existed. A few very expensive looking cars were also arriving, although not in any great numbers.

The provisional contracts from both parties had been were signed and sealed. Baxter himself had signed off the last of the paperwork late last week.

Both Bill Hardy and Jane Downs had been the main, if not the only, 'Admin' people Baxter has dealt with over the last few weeks. Baxter found the couple were incredibly helpful and it had made the whole paper process move quickly and with a minimum of fuss and boredom.

Baxter was looking forward to meeting the couple again in the near-future as he had stuck-up a very good working companionship with them both, through what could only be described as exhaustive and tedious work.

Baxter's only regret so far was that he hadn't convinced Alex nor Isaac to take a well deserved holiday for a couple of weeks, somewhere hopefully miles away from the 'Manor House'.

Baxter had even toyed with the idea of paying for their joint holiday out of his own pocket. Now he dreamed of sending them both somewhere, just about anywhere, as long as it was far away from the 'Manor-House' and out of Baxter's sight.

But to no avail.

He almost considered getting down on his knees and begged them both to take a long break away somewhere together. But the more he tried the more it seemed to make them even more determined to stay on working at the estate.

Baxter had finally given up the notion. But he could feel his blood pressure already rising beyond safe-levels. As he could plainly hear in the distance not too far away, the sound of Isaac as he frantically blew that bloody annoying Football-Whistle!

What had possessed him to give that bloody wee man a whistle in the first place? Baxter thought, it was if Isaac had been punishing him everyday since. His face contorted once more as he heard the whistling sound yet again.

'Hey, Soupy' Alex Boyd said as he entered Baxter's office.

"Soupy" was a kind of twisted term of endearment, come nickname, Alex and Isaac would often call Baxter. The nickname had originated from a popular tinned brand of soup of the same name (Baxter's Soups). The brand is still available on the shelves of most UK grocery/supermarket stores.

'What have I always told you, knock the bloody door first?' Baxter said frowning with his back to Alex, as he half glanced at him from over his left shoulder.

'All right, keep your knickers on. And anyway the door was lying open, so there!'

Baxter didn't answer Alex, and he kept his back turned on him. As he looked out the window trying to figure out just where Isaac was? And more to the point, what mess bloody he was about too cause.

Baxter although not an outwardly religious man had begun praying to God, praying, that the two eejits he's lumbered with, Alex and Isaac. Will not somehow totally, BUGGER-UP THE WHOLE BLOODY THING,

Baxter knew full well that was a tall order, even for a God.

'Ye said to see you about any new people wanting a job in my department, like?' Alex said to the back of Baxter, who was still studying the outside view from his office window for any signs of Isaac.