Little Larceny (A)

__A LITTLE LARCENY_
It wasn't a good day for Margaret. Her car had threatened to breathe
its last
earlier in the week and was still awaiting the long term prognosis in
the local
garage, so she found herself shopping for the weekend using public
transport.
Naturally it had to be this weekend when the family chose to descend
on her
for a few days!
`Why was there so much shopping for goodness sake?' She could
hear
Norman now. `You're not feeding an army woman. There will only be five
of us
for three days, you've got enough there to feed a regiment for three
months.'
She staggered along the crowded street to the bus stop, weighed down
with
bags and baskets full to overflowing, handles biting into her fingers,
and bulging
carrier bags knocking the backs of her knees as she walked. Donkeys go
best
loaded, she mused; and why on earth had she put on court shoes? She
knew
very well they pinched her feet.
No sooner had she set down her shopping, leaned one bag against
another,
against another, against basket and bus stop, than a throaty diesel
engine droned
into earshot and loomed large among the heavy traffic. As quickly as
she could
she gathered up her basket and all her bags moving forward to the edge
of the
pavement. The driver slowed and leaned out of his window giving a
thumbs-up
sign to tell those waiting, another bus was coming behind. The
engine
coughed, as he pulled away, blowing clouds of diesil fumes all along
the
pavement.
Margaret groaned and lowered her goods to the ground in desperation
yet
hardly daring to rest her fingers for fear of missing her place on the
next bus. If she
had to stand that would be the absolute end. She fumbled in her handbag
for her
purse, one hand maintaining contact with her purchases, when as if from
nowhere
the second bus pulled out of the traffic and drew up beside the
pavement, blowing
more clouds of evil-smelling fumes over the passengers waiting in the
queue.
Thank goodness for a conductor on this one she thought. He took two of
her
bags from her, followed her into the bus and when she sat in the
only
remaining seat on the lower deck dumped them on top of the shopping
already on
her lap, with a cheerful, `Aw' right luv?'
`Thank you,' she gasped. With two bags between her painful feet, one
beside
her in the aisle and a bag and a basket on her lap she settled as best
she could but
became aware of an unpleasantly stale, boozy smell. It was apparently
coming
from the shabby figure hunched in the seat beside her, staring fixedly
out of the
window. So unpleasant was he, had there been another seat available
she
might well have attempted to move despite her overload of shopping.
She
watched fascinated, waiting for the dewdrop trembling on the end of his
nose to
fall into his lap but he niftily fielded it with his coat cuff in the
nick of time.
`Any more fares, please? Any more fares? Pass right down the car
there!
Thank you lady.' Margaret was miles away wondering if the smell
would
transfer from the inebriate's repulsive donkey jacket to her much
loved, old,
sheepskin coat.
The conductor's voice brought her back to reality. She opened her
handbag
and rummaged among the contents for her purse. Her fingers reached deep
into
the bottom but it wasn't there. She felt in her pockets; had she
dropped it at the bus
stop? Goodness! What about her plastic cards? They were all in it.
Norman had
told her not to carry them around unless she was going to use them.
She'd never hear
the end of it if they were lost.
`I'll come back to you,' said the conductor realising she was getting
in a flap.
Other passengers could see her growing red and flustered and she was
sure they
thought she was trying to get a free ride. The conductor rang the bell
and the bus
jolted into action again.
`Lawst yer money 'ave ya?' The inebriate at her side had noticed her
disquiet
too. An alcoholic haze enveloped her as he spoke. She saw grimy
fingers
fidgeting in his lap, anxious she thought, to help her look through her
handbag
again.
She knew she was blushing. It was so embarrassing. `I can't seem to
find my
purse,' she mumbled.
`They all say that. I say it. Get away wiv it sometimes too. Shut yer
eyes and
pretend yer fast asleep, why don't ya?'
Margaret was becoming confused. She had no intention of defrauding
the
company. She was perfectly willing to pay her fare, if only she could
find her
purse. - This was all she needed!
She went through pockets, basket, shopping bags, and then through
her
handbag once more. She transferred groceries and vegetables into a
spare plastic
carrier bag. She piled bread and cakes on top of the basket and had
great
difficulty in keeping her neighbour's disgustingly dirty hands off
them. He also
showed interest in the contents of her pockets as she emptied them into
one hand
and then the other.
`Them Polo mints looks a bit past it. Mind if I 'as 'em?'
`Not at all,' she said `Here take this square of chocolate as well.'
He was
welcome to it. A piece of fluff from the bottom of her pocket was
clinging
affectionately to the corner not covered by the remains of the
wrapper.
`There's a nice safety pin. Just right for mendin' 'oles when you
ain't got no
sewin' fings.' She thrust her hand into her pocket again. Heaven
forbid! a pair of
pop socks!
`Here,' she said `take these too.'
`I'm doin' well,' said the tramp, grinning and dribbling,
`It must be here,' she insisted when the conductor returned
expectantly to her
side. - Would she be arrested if she didn't find it and couldn't pay?
She'd be too
exhausted to enjoy her weekend after all this, she knew she
would.
`Ask Alfie if he's seen it, Madam?' Margaret hadn't the remotest idea
what
the conductor was talking about.
`I'm sorry?'
`I s'pose you haven't seen the lady's purse by any chance Alf?' Alfie
was
overcome by an instant paralytic coma when the conductor spoke. `Excuse
me
Madam.' The conductor reached across her and put his hand deep into
Alfie's
pockets one after another.
`Alfie won't mind Ma'm. He's used to it.' At last he retrieved
Margaret's
mislaid purse from somewhere in the depths of Alfie's person and held
it up
triumphantly.
`This wouldn't be yours by any chance would it Madam?'
`Well I'm blowed,' said Alfie regaining consciousness, and instant
lucidity,
`Who'da thought a purse could slip out of your pocket like vat and I
could be
sittin' on it all the time wivout 'avin' an inkling..?'
The conductor handed it to Margaret who regarded it with suspicion
as
she thanked him graciously and with relief.
`My pleasure Madam.' He turned to the tramp, `Where to Alfie,
you
bloomin' old rogue?'
`Come orf it! 'Tain't no good askin' me to cough up now Guv, I'm
skint.' The
conductor indicated with his thumb.
`Off my bus then Sunshine.' Alfie struggled to his feet and squeezed
past
Margaret smiling affectionately treading on her aching feet before
stumbling down
the aisle on rubber legs.
The bus conductor rang the bell and followed him to the back of the
bus.
When it stopped he helped him onto the pavement. Margaret heard him
say, `And
stay off my bus in future unless you can pay your fare without nickin'
it from my
passengers mate. 'Ere, what have you got there? Give it to me or
I'll...
Next time I'll turn you in Alfie Roberts, you see if I don't.'
Returning to Margaret's side he handed her a carrier bag.`The old
devil nearly
got away with this one.' Her hand went to where she had placed a bag
beside her in
the aisle. It wasn't there. He smiled sympathetically. Margaret
returned his smile.
`Thank you, I'm so grateful.'
`Where was it you was goin' lady?' She glanced out of the window and
only
then did she realise she had already gone twostops past the one she
wanted.