‘Damn it,’ said Mr Bridges, ‘damn.’ He soaked up the spilt coffee in a napkin, then holding it up, he called to the waitress. ‘Could I have another one please?’ he said, pointing at his stained white shirt. And then feeling his cheeks burn with embarrassment he added, ‘you’d think my mouth was big enough wouldn’t you?’ The waitress handed him a fresh napkin and a pitiful smile, before walking away. Mr Bridges berated himself for his pathetic attempt at a joke. He rubbed away at the stain unaware that he was making it worse. He might have a brilliant legal mind, but he certainly didn’t know how to launder clothes.
You see Mr Bridges was a judge and he was due in court in, he looked at his watch and gasped, 20 minutes. How had he let time slip away like that? He hurried out of the café and into a shower of rain. Could anything else go wrong? Well he was going to regret that thought any minute now…
His car wouldn’t start.
‘That’s it,’ he said out loud, ‘for the first time EVER; I’m going to be late.’
He stepped out of his car and popped open the bonnet. Again, he had no idea what he was doing, so he did the only thing he knew how to do; he glared at the engine, judged it, and decided that this car was the most useless, untrustworthy most pathetic car he had ever had and it was most definitely being sentenced to the scrap heap. He couldn’t fix this on his own, he needed help.
‘Need some help?’ said a voice from behind him.
Mr Bridges looked over his shoulder to see the scruffiest looking teenager he’d ever laid eyes on. He wore grey jogging bottoms that clung to the ankle and an oversized grey hoodie that swamped his skinny frame. His trainers looked as though he’d just had a run in the brook. To Mr Bridges, who usually only made contact with people like this in court where he was safe behind the bench, this kid looked intimidating. The spider tattoo on his cheek didn’t help. ‘I’m fine,’ he said turning back to the engine.
‘Suit yourself,’ said the teenager.
But fiddling about aimlessly with leads and some weird oily stick was getting him nowhere. And the teenager had been polite. In fact, now he came to think of it he was the one who had been rude. ‘Excuse me,’ he called. The teenager turned around, ‘I really could do with your help, if you’re sure you know what you’re doing.’ He offered his hand, ‘I’m Mr Bridges.’
‘Spider,’ said the teenager accepting his hand. ‘To be honest, I can’t do worse than you, ent it.’
Despite the temptation to correct Spider’s grammar, Mr Bridges couldn’t help but smile, and in no less than five minutes, Spider had the engine running. ‘You’ve been ever so helpful,’ said Mr Bridges, ‘thank you, I owe you one.’
‘Cool,’ said Spider, ‘any chance of a lift then?’
Mr Bridges wasn’t expecting to owe him one so fast, but he was thankful to Spider for getting his car started, so he said, ‘of course get in, but I can only take you as far as the court.’
‘What are the chances’, said Spider, ‘that’s exactly where I’m going.’
Mr Bridges arrived at court a whole 10 minutes late which was completely unheard of. But the criminal due in court for today’s first case hadn’t arrived yet either, so it was OK. ‘All rise,’ said the Clerk when he entered the room. The first case for sentencing was a young lad who had been found guilty of car theft. Mr Bridges couldn’t stand those thieving little scrotes, he was going to teach this lad a lesson. But when the criminal was ushered into the court room, Mr Bridges had to conceal a snigger, standing in front of him was Spider. They locked eyes and smiled. He was known for making an example of people but Spider had helped him when he didn’t have to, and this was a first offence, he didn’t deserve to have the book thrown at him just yet. So he gave him a good talking to and 12 hours community service. And he thought that, perhaps, knowing someone with Spider’s skillset might not be such a bad thing.
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