Philatelic tales

Philatelic Tales
Harold had collected stamps for forty-three years. He would soon be
fifty and had been given his first part-set by his father when he was
seven. The collection was a coronation album, which Harold treasured,
the stamps were now worth a lot of money, especially if he could add
the Nigerian Coronation Stamp of which there were only several dozen in
existence. During his search for the elusive stamp, he had met Norris
who shared the same collection, but this lucky man had the stamp Harold
coveted and longed for.

Harold and Norris travelled to stamp auctions, and generally wherever
stamp lovers congregated, they could be found; both were household
names in the world of philately. Harold was the very proud president of
the Norwich Philately Society, a post he had held for seventeen years.
Harold would proclaim, after a few Martinis, that he had given his life
to stamps, they were his abiding passion. He had a lot to be grateful
for; he saw others with shallow empty lives and how he pitied them. He
tried to seduce them into his world of stamps; it was their own fault
if they had no life he said with a superior air.

When they were alone Harold would persuade Norris to bring out his
marvellous specimen. Norris would eventually succumb to his urging, and
there it was in all its glory, to Harold's gasps of admiration, the
Nigerian Coronation Stamp. He had thought of having showcases built but
his wife did not share his vision, unfortunately. Harold did have the
entire Australian collection but Norris's one stamp was worth his whole
collection - Norris knew it - and would tell anyone who wanted to hear
about Harold's deficiency in the stamp department.

Despite having over twenty-thousand stamps, including some major
collections, despite also being on the managing board of Philatelist's
Weekly and a judge for all of the key stamp-collecting awards, Harold
had a growing sense there was something missing from his life - and it
wasn't just the Nigerian Coronation Stamp. It could be a mid-life
crisis; he had read that men take stock around this age. He had a
comely wife, but he worked all week and was away at the weekends with
Norris. She could not be persuaded to join them; in fact, she secretly
resented Harold's stamps and was ashamed of a recurring dream where she
danced naked around a huge stamp, and Philatelist's Weekly,
bonfire.

There was a growing tension between Harold and his wife, whispers in
the village that she had been seen going into the vicarage every Sunday
long after Evensong was over. Harold confronted his wife who assured
him that the Reverend Miller simply loved her fish pie and could not
get enough of it. He knew she made a batch every Sunday evening for him
coming back; didn't he? Well she also took a tray into the vicarage,
she was sure she had mentioned this. Harold's frustration grew when he
was told he was to be pensioned off from the Inland Revenue. His life
was over; he was not even fifty and his life had ended. All he had was
his stamps, he did not entirely believe his wife, it did not take three
hours to deliver fish pie. She could not account for all the time she
was reported to be with the vicar, he was not called the dirty vicar
without reason, he thought.

Harold walked towards the river as he reflected on his life, he stared
from the bridge into the swirling blackness and contemplated its
nothingness. He was shaken from his malaise by the squeals of a child
on spotting some ducklings; he regained his composure and set off home.
He was worried by the growing frustration he was feeling. A phone call
on the way home soon made his spirits soar. It was George to say the
Nigerian Coronation Stamp was up for private sale in Scotland - and he
had the number. Harold went to work immediately. He phoned and was
devastated to be told the stamp had gone. Who had bought it? Who had
bought his stamp?
He was stunned 'It was a Mr Norris Lawson of Norwich...'

Harold was devastated; this was the last straw, his head spun. He held
on to a wall for a few minutes while he tried to think, but a rage was
boiling inside. He already had the bloody stamp; he knew it; Norris had
bought the stamp to stop him getting it. He did not want him to have
the full collection and it was obvious he would go to any lengths to
stop him. He had two, two! He was sabotaging his attempts to have the
entire set, while whispering about his inadequate collection; he had
what was coming to him. Harold marched straight into Norris's house and
confronted him as sat preening over his entire collection.

By this time, Harold was crying and incandescent with rage.
'So here you are you little shit.'
'Harold, language, please, what's wrong?'
'What's wrong? What's bloody wrong? You know what's wrong, you're
what's wrong. He stood over Norris turning puce, the veins on his neck
stood out as spittle rained down on his cowering friend.

Harold lifted the coronation collection, tore the stamps out randomly
ripping them in two as he spat and stuck the stamps onto Norris's
baldpate and face as he quivered in terror. He had soon covered
Norris's entire face and head. He ate his sports stars collection as
Norris's painful wails of 'No, no, stop it, help...' went unheard.
Harold pushed a penny black up each of Norris's nostrils and the
Nigerian Coronation Stamp into Norris's ear and said he would push its
match into the other. 'Where is it?' Norris glanced from left to right
looking for his escape, his phone, the window cleaner...

'Where is what?' Norris spluttered partially deaf from the obstruction
and looking like a leper as the array of torn stamps hung from his
skin. 'Where is what?' Harold mimicked exhausted, 'you know what, the
other Nigerian Coronation Stamp' he said tightening the tie around
Norris's neck; Norris was petrified. 'The vicar has it' he said
defeated crying, salivating, and staring in fear and disbelief. 'The
vicar, the bloody vicar...' this was too painful, too painful. 'Why
does the vicar have my stamp' he said weeping and pulling Norris into
the air by his tie - both sets of eyes bulging.
'Your wife gave it to him - so you wouldn't see it, she's been
organising a birthday and retirement party for weeks in the church
hall, the stamp was a gift from all of us....'