What A Day

Philip arrived home unexpectedly early that Thursday. It was a hot afternoon in August and Julie had been sitting in the garden in the shade of the apple tree. She had lust wandered indoors for a cool drink when she heard his key in the lock and hurried to meet him in the hall.
She could sense at once that something was up. An atmosphere of tense excitement entered the house with him, he went straight to the kitchen and dropping a large plastic carrier on the floor opened the fridge to help himself to a cool can of beer.
While Philips back was turned Julie peeped cautiously into the bag - it contained a shiny new black crash helmet, quite different from the red and silver helmet Philip always wore when he rode his motor bike. This helmet seemed bigger, darker, more sinister with its reinforced chin and shaded visor.
‘Leave that bag alone Julie, Philip snapped. She started back guiltily and retired to the garden, it was not like Philip to be angry.
As the afternoon wore on Julie tried to doze in the shade, listening out for familiar sounds of activity from the house, but sensing today Philip wanted to be left alone. All was silent, and a faint stirring of unease took the edge off her enjoyment of the fine weather and delightful garden. Normally she would have let herself sink into blissful relaxation as the bees buzzed among the flower beds, secure in the knowledge that Philip loved her more than anyone else in the world and had promised to care for her for the rest of her life. They had been together for over a year now, and any unhappy memories that may still have haunted Julie from the past had been brushed away by Philip’s devotion and attention.
Today, for the first time in all the months she had known him, Julie felt a stir ring of anxiety and insecurity, which finally pushed her to get up and make her way quietly into the house.
Philip was sifting at the kitchen table, the new crash helmet in his hands. He was concentrating hard on the job of sticking strips of silver in an elaborate and distinctive lightning pattern along one side of the helmet.
“There you are - what do you think?” Philip said, holding up his work for Julie to admire. His good humour had returned, but she felt a tingle of alarm dart across the back of her neck.
“Come on, supper time,” he said, switching his full attention to her for the first time since he had entered the house. Julie cheered up at once - she could always be distracted by the idea of food.
The next day - Friday - was the worst day of Julie’s life. Philip had slept badly, tossing about in the bed and continually waking her, until dawn light entered the bedroom, when he finally gave up trying to sleep and went down stairs.
Every morning they walked down to the shop on the corner for a newspaper and a carton of milk, but today Philip showed no sign of remembering this routine. He darted around the house, up and down stairs in a state of extreme agitation, until finally he yelled at Julie and stormed into the bed room, slamming the door behind him.
Julie retired to the garden, and her favourite seat under the apple tree. She had no idea what was wrong with Philip, he had never shouted at her once in all the time she had lived in his house and she searched her mind for something she could have done to make him so angry.
Then she heard the front door shut, and Jumping up she peeped through the hedge and watched him climb onto his motorbike and drive off down the road. He was wearing his old red crash helmet, but Julie noticed he had with him the large plastic bag in which he had brought home the new helmet the previous day.
All very puzzling. Julie returned to the apple tree and slumped down deeply dejected. At the corners of her mind memories began to stir. Memories of voices shouting, angry people, fear, pain --- she jumped up in alarm and paced restlessly around the garden. She didn’t want to remember anything, she wanted to stay contented and happy in this sunny garden with Philip. Philip loved her, Philip was gentle and kind, he never shouted and got angry - never until today.
An hour or so passed, then she heard the familiar roar of his motorbike returning up the road and her heart skipped and lifted in hope. He came straight into the garden, still carrying the large plastic bag, although this time it seemed a different shape, not round and smooth but stuffed full of some thing solid with knobbles and bulges stretching the plastic sides.
“Hello Julie,” Philip called a greeting, and her whole world lit up. Wherever he had been he had returned in a great good humour, his anger of the early morning quite forgotten, and he dived into the garden shed from which came the sounds of tools falling over and boxes and bags being shifted around.
Philip emerged pushing the lawn mower. “Time to cut the lawn, then we must get on with some gardening, look at all those weeds,” he called cheer fully, but Julie was already on her way to the kitchen door, If there was one thing she disliked about the garden it was the smelly, noisy lawn mower, and now that she felt reassured that all was well again between her and Philip she suddenly remembered something extremely urgent she needed to do indoors.
As the day wore on Philip showed no signs of slackening off his labours. Despite his restless night he was bursting with energy and mowed the grass into green stripes, straight and accurate as his careful nature dictated. The cuttings were piled into a neat heap in a corner of the garden behind a wooden fence, the edges were clipped and trimmed to perfection.
Only a brief halt for lunch and Philip was back at work, this time in the vegetable patch which was bursting with produce. He began with the runner beans, making sure they were clambering tidily up their poles, pulled a few carrots to eat that evening, then turned his attention to hoeing between the lettuces. As he worked fresh brown earth appeared from beneath the straggle of green weeds and order slowly flowed back to the regimented lines of vegetables.
It was mid afternoon when the doorbell rang. Julie heard it and glanced over at Philip, but he appeared to be engrossed in his weeding and made no attempt to go indoors. Whoever it was did not go away, because a few minutes later the side gate clicked and two men walked into the garden..
The prickle of unease that had haunted Julie that morning returned at once, Philip never had visitors, especially not stern looking men in suits who walked straight into the garden in the middle of the afternoon.
“Afternoon, Phil,” one of the men said. “Not forgotten those gardening skills they taught you, then?”
“Hello sergeant....” Philip straightened up and leaned on his hoe, not making any attempt to greet his visitors by leaving the site of his labours. “What can I do for you?”
“Been out today at all?” the police sergeant asked, his gaze travelling around the garden, taking in the mown lawn and freshly weeded beds.
“No,” Philip replied. “Only down to the shop this morning as usual. I've been at home all day - as you can see I've been busy.”
Julie sat completely still. How could Philip have forgotten that he had been out that morning - not to the shop, he went alone on his motorbike and was gone for a long time. She was puzzled, but her instinctive dislike of the two visitors overcame her doubts, whatever Philip said must be right.
“Not been visiting any building societies this morning then?” the man continued. “It wasn't you making an unofficial withdrawal of cash in the High Street around ten o'clock?”
“Come off it, sergeant. You caught me at it once, but that was three years ago, I've paid my debt for that and there's no way I'd go back inside. I've got my garden now - and Julie - I'm a reformed character.”
“Any alibi?”
“No. As I say I've been working in the garden all day. I wouldn't have got all this work done if I'd been out robbing banks would I? Julie's been here with me all day - she'll be my alibi.”
The sergeant looked at Julie and she stared back at him with a steady gaze moving closer to Philip to show her love and solidarity.
“Well, I guess you're off the hook this time, Phil,” he said. “We think we know who it was - a kid from the council estate - wears a black crash helmet with a silver flash. Now we've eliminated you from the picture we might as well go and pick him up. Good crop of runner beans you've got there.”
The gate clicked again behind the two men, but Philip stood quite still among the lettuces until he heard their car engine start up and the vehicle drive away.
With a great whoop of joy he flung the hoe high into the hot afternoon air. It spun around, shedding brown earth in all directions and its steel blade glinted in the sunlight. Deftly catching the hoe by its wooden handle Philip returned all the tools to the shed and went into the kitchen. “No more gardening today,” he said, washing his hands furiously under the kitchen tap and drying them carefully on the towel.
“Come on, Julie - let’s celebrate.”
Julie wagged her tail and gave a bark of delight as Philip clipped on her lead and together they walked out of the front door.

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