Chapter 3: Honey I’m Home

Chapter 3: Honey I’m Home 
The shroud of darkness outside helped hide Barry’s shame and the grizzly faces he pulled in light of his own incompetence. Traumatised, he aimlessly wandered along the Spanish streets, his mind in utter turmoil. This event pretty much ended the holiday, Barry returned to England the next day with his freak mutant tail between his legs. What had begun as a wonderful trip had ended in emotional disaster for this insecure man. Resolving himself to a life of celibacy, he decided his penis would only be used for one thing in future—urinating. Once back in England Barry felt sad that it was time to go back to the monotony of cleaning windows, despite feeling for the first time hope that his business could succeed. This optimism stemmed from Peter, and it was so strong he toyed with the wonderful idea that he might not have to clean windows anymore as the business built into an empire. He imagined himself sitting in a big leather chair with Cuban Cigar in his mouth while his employees did the donkey work, leaving him occupied with the pleasant job of cashing the cheques. While he’d been in Spain he didn’t stop once to think about how Peter was getting on and why should he, he was on holiday. He’d not had a holiday since he went on a school trip to France aged fourteen and he wanted to make the best of it. He rested assured that his apprentice could tackle any problem that confronted him in the window cleaning trade. Back home now though it was time to get back to work, the cigars and leather chair would have to wait. The first job was to get in contact with Peter. Barry rang Peter’s mobile but there was no answer. Leaving a short message on the answer phone he waited. After a
26 couple of days there was still no reply and Barry, beginning to wonder what had happened, paid a visit to Peter’s house. Peter’s Mum came to the door and to Barry’s stunned surprise, informed him that her son had recently left home. ‘I only pay him the apprentice wage, how does he think he’s going to pay for his own place?’ said Barry shocked. Peter’s Mum looked confused. ‘He told me he’s earning good money now. About five-hundred a week he said. That’s good for somebody who’s only seventeen.’
Five hundred a week, thought Barry, what’s he on about? Barry was getting worried, experiencing a premonition that his dream of an empire was crumbling. ‘Well you must know where he’s living now,’ said Barry. ‘I need to get in contact with him.’ The address Peter’s Mum had written down took Barry to a pleasant block of flats, but he couldn’t go up to the number of the one he’d been given because of a security door and was instead forced to speak over an intercom. Pressing the button for Peter’s address a familiar voice replied. ‘Hello.’ ‘Hi Pete, it’s Barry, I’m back from my holiday. How’s the business been keeping?’ ‘Yeah, not bad…’ There was a cold quality in Peter’s voice but Barry didn’t register it. ‘So how’re you paying for this flat Pete, you robbed a bank? Hey can I come up? I’d love to see your new place.’ ‘Nah, I don’t think that would be a good idea. I’ve decided I’m not going to work for you anymore.’
27 ‘Oh—’ said Barry, unable to hide his disappointment. ‘So what’re you doing now instead?’ ‘Window cleaning still, I’m running my own business. You just weren’t paying me enough.’ Barry felt stupid because he is stupid; his goodwill had been used against him, he’d helped Peter out when he couldn’t get a job, trained him up, and now he’d been stabbed him in the back and was going to have yet another competitor in an already overly-competitive trade. ‘Okay, well I’ll need my customer book back.’ ‘Yeah…sorry, but I won’t be able to do that either.’ ‘Why? Did you lose it?’ asked Barry, his voice rising with worry. ‘No not quite, you see those customers in that book are going to form the foundation of my new business.’ ‘You what! Those are my customers. That’s my business. That’s how I put food on the table.’ ‘Well I guess you’ll be going hungry. Hey there’s always the dole. And you can move back in with your Mum can’t you?’ After this things became quite heated. Barry was witnessing his livelihood being stolen from underneath him and he wasn’t at all pleased. ‘You were just some bum when I found you, too scared to even answer the door. You’ll burn for this, burn in hell.’ ‘When you were at the helm we had no real customers, they only ever paid us in jelly babies if we were lucky. After I started I made sure we actually got paid money. I was the one who made this business what it is. You were holding it back.