Bob Servant Read Online Free Page B

suppose Frank was growing on me a little bit the way that a stray puppy would, or a winged bird, or a crippled lion. Not that Frank could ever be considered a lion, crippled or otherwise.
    So I was in a decent mood when Christmas came round and Mum very kindly invited me round to the house for dinner. I hadn’t seen much of her and Uncle Harry so I was excited when I stuck on my best gear, brushed my hair and headed round to the old place. We said our ‘Hellos’ and sat down to dinner and Mum nearly knocked me off my chair by asking if I’d ever considered emigrating to Australia.
    I felt like I’d taken one in the puss from Joe Louis. Australia! I said, no, I hadn’t, but I’d love to. Uncle Harry had a good laugh at that and Mum said that she’d only asked because she and Uncle Harry were emigrating to Australia and they were wondering if I had any tips.
    Mum got a wee bit annoyed with me after that because she said that it was Christmas Day and the last thing she needed was to see someone crying. I apologised, and I suppose I was being a bit over the top, but by then the atmosphere was beyond repair. Mum stuck my dinner in a Tupperware box after Uncle Harry had chosen the best potatoes for himself. She suggested I eat my dinner on the way home because their cases wouldn’t pack themselves.
    I remember one thing she did though which always makes me smile. Uncle Harry told me to bring back the Tupperware box but Mum said that I should ‘just keep it’ which was a really nice touch and one that I’ve never forgotten. Even so, I must admit I felt a littlebit sad on the walk home to Frank’s that night. He and his mum gave me a decent welcome but my heart wasn’t in it so I went up to bed.
    The arrangement was that I slept in Frank’s bed and he slept on the floor beside me because, as I told him, I was the guest. That night, the last night I saw my Mum, Frank waited till I was nearly asleep and then whispered, ‘Don’t worry, Bob, you’ll always have me.’
    I don’t think I’ve ever felt as low in my whole life as when Frank said that. He really put the boot in.
    _________________________
    16 See
The Dundee Courier
, 18 August 1944 – ‘
Broughty Man’s “Stubbornness” Leads to Tragedy
(“He said he’d get the trousers on if it was the last thing he did,” says shop assistant Joan Downie, “but the last thing he did was to say that.”)’.

6
Joining the Merchant Navy
    Joining the Merchant Navy wasn’t one of those good ideas you have that turn out not to be a good idea, like a picnic or a side parting. It was one of those good ideas that wasn’t even a good idea in the first place. Needless to say, it was Frank’s idea.
    It was the spring of 1962. I was sixteen, already wowing the skirt, and had eyes like Omar Sharif. I could have done anything. Finished school, entered a trade, or trained to be a chat-show host. But no, for the first and last time I listened to Frank.
    I got up to go to school one day and Frank was nearly hyperventilating. I was worried because he was ironing my uniform at the time. His hands were all shaky so I said he could have a short break and tell me what had wound him up. He said he’d just heard on the wireless that the Merchant Navy had set up a training centre in Dundee and suggested me and him should join up.
    I told Frank to count to twenty then get back to the ironing while I had my bath. I have to say I was interested. I’d read a bit about the Navy in comics and it certainly offered more excitement than taking on an apprenticeship or going into the Dog Eat Dog hell of the mousetrap factory. At breakfast I said it was a possibility. Frank was buttering my toast at the time and nearly took off a finger but his Mum said she wasn’t sure. She said I shouldn’t leave school this close to my exams because I was clever enough to pass them and she