A wee parable dedicated to Alex ... 22. It’s time! There was once in a city, not so far away, a big, important antiques shop. This shop was initially run as a partnership by Mr Scott and Mr England. But the strange thing was that it was Mr Scott who was the public face of the shop – it was he that would greet you from behind the counter – you never got to see Mr England. It was said that Mr England managed the accounts and was more of a sleeping partner in the enterprise as opposed to Mr Scott who did all the daily, monotonous running of the shop. It was rumoured – but never fully proved – that in such a capacity, Mr England could ‘cook the books’ to his own advantage. Anyway, the unequal partnership of the antiques shop limped on, with Mr Scott having nary an angry word to say about his partner. Now, pride of place in this antiques shop was an old clock. This old clock was valued by both partners of the antiques shop – and maybe more so by Mr England. Although superficially attractive, there was a problem: The clock did not go. It was this that probably prevented it from being sold to any of the antiques shop’s customers. It had stopped in fact at a few minutes after 5pm, or to use the Continental fashion, 17.07. Now, whether due to laziness or inadequacy on the part of Mr England and Mr Scott, neither had been able to make this clock move forward. It was like it was caught in its own time warp – to be stuck forever at seven minutes past five. Mr England and Mr Scott became old men and not able to fully perform their duties in the antiques shop. So they decided to lease out the premises to new tenants. First there was Mr Dewar (but he didn’t stay very long). Then came Mr McLeish, but his tenancy, too, was a very brief one. Mr McConnell followed, and he ran the antiques shop for almost six years. In all the time that these three tenants were running the antiques shop and were tenants of Mr England and Mr Scott, they too failed in setting the elegant clock to work. People came from far and wide to the antiques shop to see if the old clock was working, and, despite, many promises from these successive tenants that they would fix the clock’s mechanism, they never really got round to it. And then, a new, fresh-faced young tenant of the antiques shop materialised. Alex, for that was the young antiques dealer’s name, decided that he wanted to be a new broom which swept clean through the old antiques shop. Mr England and Mr Scott were distrustful of young Alex, but knowing that they had to get money from somewhere, somewhat reluctantly agreed to his being their tenant. Alex immediately set to work and along with his girlfriend, Nicola and their friends, they cleaned up all the cobwebs that covered the shop’s wares and brought in some well needed light so that its customers could see clearer the objects that were thinking of buying. The cabinet that Alex buffed up looked bright, shiny and polished after he had set his hand to it. Early on in his tenancy, Alex was constantly pestered by Mr Grey who wanted to buy the shop’s lease from him, but on every occasion, Alex rebuffed him and continued his good work in the antiques shop. Having by now settled down to running the antiques shop as a thriving business, Alex turned his attention to the old clock which had stopped at seven minutes past five. He knew that if he could get the clock going he could sell it and the antiques shop would make a healthy profit. Because of the huge successes that Alex had already achieved – thanks to his making the shop more airy and light, as previously mentioned and in attracting new and more customers to the shop than ever before – he was now working much later hours than any of his predecessors. He took out his watch from his waistcoat pocket and examined it. It was a little before quarter past eight in the evening, or 20.14. Alex smiled and said to himself, “It’s time!” Alex studied the old stopped clock’s mechanism again. He knew what was missing: Jenkins’s Scottish spring™. Those former tenants and wind up merchants had obviously overlooked something. Alex applied the all-important piece of equipment. And lo! For the first time in many years that clock ticked and moved forward. Alex set it at the correct time and smiled again. The clock told the proper time for the first time for ages. It was a historic moment and Alex would savour it. Alex was thrilled – and he knew the antiques shop’s customers would be too. _________ (c) Siôn Rees Williams (aka Welsh Admin) 2012-2014 All rights reserved ________ https://facebook/media/set/?set=a.259514867559112.1073741846.137715503072383&type=1
Posted on: Sun, 24 Aug 2014 11:39:04 +0000
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