The old man had hardly slept at all during the night.
It had been a dickens of a cold night. Snow had been falling in the city for days and the cold had got into his house. To make things worse, he woke with most of his coverings on the floor. Something had happened during the night. He didn’t know what it was, although he had some fading recollection of being visited by spirits; three of them! His stomach was giving him the gripes as he struggled to get up. He quickly wrapped a dressing gown around his frail body and put his slippers on. He staggered across to the window and looked out. Everything was white. A young lad came into view in the street below.
He opened the window and called down to him. “Boy!”
The lad looked up. “Yes, sir.”
The old man’s hearing was poor. “Come closer, boy. I need you to run an errand for me.”
The boy took a few paces, still looking up. “Yes, sir?”
“Do you know where the butcher’s shop is in the high street?”
“Oh! Yes, sir, the one with the prized turkey in the window, sir.”
“That’s the one. Good lad. There’ll be half a crown in it for you.”
The boy tugged at his cap. “Why, thank you kindly, sir.”
“Well done, lad. I’d have you go to the apothecary’s shop opposite and get me a bottle of stomach medicine, and tell them to put it on my bill.”
The lad looked perplexed. “Beg pardon, sir?”
“Stomach medicine, for the gripes, lad. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir, but…”
“What’s that you say?”
“I thought sir would be asking for the turkey, sir.”
He was becoming irritable. “The what?”
“Beg pardon, but I thought you’d be asking for the prized turkey, sir.”
He stepped back. The boy’s an idiot, he thought. He’d have to get dressed and go himself. He returned to the window and shouted, “Forget it!”
The lad wandered off, disappointed.
He slammed the window. “Bloody kids!”
