Three to See the King

matter. Nonetheless, I was surprised at the ease with which Simon accepted his new circumstances. Here he was being practically evicted by a pair of well-meaning neighbours, yet he talked as if it was part of his destiny. I’d already noticed how he adopted a very solemn tone of voice whenever he spoke of Michael Hawkins. Now, it seemed, he was prepared to stake everything on their friendship.
    ‘How are you going to get it all budged?’ I asked.
    ‘Simple,’ replied Steve. ‘We’ll take it one piece at a time.’
    Apparently he and Philip had been planning all this for a good while. They’d known in advance that Simon would be away for a couple of days, and as soon as he’d departed they’d come over. Then the pair of them had gone all round the house, marking each section with chalk before dismantling it, so it would be easy to assemble again. This had been a two-day job. Having finished the work late on the previous evening, they’d popped over to Philip’s for supper and bed, planning to return in the morning and surprise Simon. As it was, he’d decided to travel overnight and had got back sooner than expected, which is why he’d wound up in a distraught state at my place.
    ‘All the chalk marks correspond,’ explained Steve. ‘So as long as we keep the pieces in order, we’ll have the whole outfit back together in no time.’
    ‘When shall we start?’ asked an eager Simon.
    ‘Soon as you like.’
    While the three of them stood planning the expedition, I went and had a quiet look at the chalk markings. Sure enough, each part of the house bore an inscription, such as TRH, LHT or FRS. I couldn’t make head or tail of any of it, but I guessed that Steve had the method of assembly all worked out, and therefore I enquired no further.
    By this time they’d agreed to set off immediately with the first few pieces. Simon had now thought of a possible site to establish his new home, and he estimated that it would take about five hours to get there.
    ‘We can stay at Michael’s tonight,’ he said. ‘Then come back for some more bits tomorrow.’
    ‘If we go via my place we can stop for a meal on the way,’ suggested Steve. Then he looked at me. ‘Unless, of course, you’d prefer your own cuisine?’
    ‘How do you mean?’ I asked.
    ‘Well, if you want to nip home first we’ll wait for you.’
    I gathered from this remark that they assumed I was going with them, which, of course, I wasn’t. In my view it was one thing to turn out and help someone get over a little local difficulty, but quite another to spend several days moving a tin house overland.
    ‘Actually, I won’t be coming,’ I said. ‘I’ll stay here and be quartermaster instead.’
    ‘Quartermaster?’ asked Steve.
    ‘Yes, you know, I’ll look after the pieces while you’re away. Stop them being stolen, that kind of thing.’
    There’s no one here except us,’ he replied. ‘Who’s going to steal them?’
    ‘Well, they might get blown around.’
    ‘Alright,’ he said. ‘If you’re not interested it doesn’t matter.’
    Without further word he walked away to join the others, leaving me feeling a little awkward. Subsequent conversation was held only between the three of them as they prepared for their forthcoming journey. A little later they set off, each bearing part of a house of tin.
    No one said goodbye. Not even Simon.
    9
    I stayed there for a long time after they’d gone, reluctant to leave the remaining pile unguarded. I knew as well as they did that this was quite unnecessary, for as Steve had pointed out, there was no one around except us. Even so, I felt obliged to make certain everything was secure. A length of rope lay coiled amongst Simon’s possessions, and I used it to tie down all the various pieces. This, I assured myself, would protect them from the wind. Then, when I was satisfied there was no more I could do, I headed for home. Halfway back I met Mary Petrie. She was carrying a basket in her hand.
    ‘That was quick work,’ she said. ‘Have you put Simon together already?’
    ‘Not quite,’ I replied. ‘He’s decided to move.’
    The basket contained a flask of coffee, along with some cakes which she’d brought to keep us going. I told her what had happened, and how the others had left without saying goodbye.
    ‘Well,’ she remarked. ‘At least you’ve still got me, haven’t you?’
    This was one way of looking at it, of course, but as we returned home I couldn’t help thinking