chapter 2 part 2

it was from the sheltered existence of education to the real world: he had encountered the same problem when he’d left school and had resorted in desperation to a life of window cleaning to overcome it. Barry was viewing his world and his past through the rose-tinted spectacles, having momentarily forgotten that he’d regularly be whipped into snivelling submission with wet towels after his school P.E lessons, and that window cleaning had been unable to help him overcome anything. With meeting a lot of people in his line of work, good and bad, Barry believed falsely that he’d developed an infallible ability at seizing people up; all his instincts told him Peter was a good person. ‘I’ll give you a job if you want, you can work for me. I get fed up doing this by myself all the time. I could really do with somebody to talk to as well.’ ‘Really?’ ‘Yeah, you can start tomorrow if you like.’ ‘Okay great.’ ‘I’ll pick you up at ten to nine tomorrow morning.’ Feeling glad he now had an employee, Barry thought it wouldn’t be long before he wouldn’t have to do any of the more unpleasant parts of being a window cleaner such as canvassing and bird-faeces cleanups. ‘Hey Mum guess what, I’ve got an employee, his name’s Peter.’ ‘Your joking, you don’t earn enough money to pay yourself a decent wage,’ replied Maggie at once.
17 Barry had not really considered the financial implications of having somebody work for him, but felt confident he could make it work after getting Peter out on the streets door knocking. The following day Barry picked up Peter to give him his first day of training in becoming a window cleaner. As it turned out Peter was a very hard worker, and so Barry carried an annoyingly smug look on his face that he’d made such a great business decision. He taught his apprentice everything he knew, and because Peter was a good student he was cleaning windows as well and as quickly as the master after only a few days on the job. He also seemed to be a natural salesman, successfully getting the business far more customers when he went out canvassing than Barry had ever got. The acquisition of a job had changed this shy, going-nowhere seventeen-year old into an unstoppable ball of fire. A Few Months of Window Cleaning Joy Later ‘Hey Pete, how did you do at school?’ asked Barry one day while simultaneously standing and admiring his apprentice’s handiwork. ‘Yeah I didn’t do too badly, I got decent grades,’ he replied. Barry thought about suggesting why Peter had not gone onto further education, but then decided that’d be foolish because he really didn’t want to lose such a great worker. ‘God what type of bird has done this,’ said Peter upon tangling with a particularly dirty window.
18 ‘That’ll be an Albatross I expect mate,’ replied Barry, chuckling oafishly at his own wit. ‘How come you always make me do the dirtiest windows?’ asked Peter. This was the first little spark of rebellion shown by his young employee, and Barry believed it had to be stamped out fast before it turned into a fire. ‘Hey look, you were the one who needed a job. You know I can just as easily un-hire you—mate.’ With this threat, the spark Barry believed had been effectively put out. He breathed a sigh of relief, confident in the knowledge that his man-management skills were incomparable. There was an uncomfortable silence for the next few windows, till Barry decided to change the topic of the conversation back to school days. ‘I was never any good at school me, my teachers said I was as thick as two short planks. And I never got any qualifications, so you can imagine how hard it was for me getting a job.’ Peter gave a brief glance over at his boss and said: ‘Oh right.’ ‘I once took an IQ test, they told me my score was so low I was classed as borderline retarded. Yep, window cleaning saved my backside though, without that I would’ve been in some serious trouble.’ ‘I thought that up until I came along you still lived with your Mum and that you couldn’t afford to pay to live by yourself,’ said Peter, the spark still very much alight. ‘And while we’re on the subject of money, why don’t pay me a proper wage? We’re making five-hundred quid a week now because of the new customers I’ve brought in, but you only give me fifty of it.’
19 It was true that over the months Peter had been working for him, Barry had finally been able to move out of his Mum’s house, gaining some much-needed selfrespect. When he had turned up to the school reunion the previous year, it was highly embarrassing for Barry to find out he was the only one at thirty three who had not left home. His old school chums, although that’s maybe the wrong way to describe the people who’d mercilessly bullied him throughout his education, were in hysterics when he informed them about his living arrangements. For the eighteen years before Peter had come along, Barry’s Professional Window Cleaning Services had been a failing business, but now that had all changed. Getting annoyed by this young upstart Barry said: ‘Look, it’s a job ain’t it? Stop moaning.’ A few more months down the line, and Barry now not only had enough money to support himself in his own flat, but he could also afford to go on a holiday to sunny Spain. Life was good, and the way things were going he thought it wouldn’t be long before he attracted the attention of a female, maybe even a sexy senorita in Spain. He thought wrong. ‘Right, I’m leaving you in charge Pete. I know you can handle it. You’ve been like a brother to me. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.’ Peter muttered something although Barry failed to notice because he was too busy playing the boss. ‘I’m only going for two weeks, so you shouldn’t make too many cock-ups while I’m gone.’ ‘I’ll need the customer book,’ replied Peter blankly.
20 The relationship between the two window cleaners had become frostier than the North Pole. Not being aware of this, Barry handed over the book that contained the addresses, phone numbers and names of all of Barry’s Professional Window Cleaning Service’s customers. ‘Now that book is everything to this business, if you lose or damage it we’re done for, so take good care of it—okay?’ ‘Okay.’ A businessman with a grain of sense would’ve photocopied the information in the customer book. Barry on the other hand was careless, liked to live his life stupidly, and also lacked that grain of sense. Sunny Spain made Barry’s skin turn the same shade as a ripe tomato, and despite his best attempts not a single senorita was interested in this fat, sunburnt, balding monster. And it wasn’t just his inclination towards monstrosity that hurt his chances because apparently, the honourable trade of window cleaner doesn’t impress most women as well. So all in all Barry had zero chance of ever finding love, or of ever being happy, or of ever finding any of those other things normal people want. Still, regardless of the sunburn and lack of female interest he managed to almost have a good time. The nightlife was great and even though he was not what you’d call the sporty type, he did have a few forays into some adventurous recreation: he had a go at sitting on a banana boat until he fell off, parasailing, which was kind of fun but mostly scary, and sitting on a jet-ski until he fell off that as well. But in spite of these perilous distractions, when he had time to calm down and stop fearing for his life he’d look out into nothing and not for the first time think,
Alone always alone.