A Pinteresque type man on the 24

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l4s7-OwZccY Published by Ether Books GENRE: Contemporary BLURB:  Two old friends meet by chance on the 24 bus. A conversation ensues with a sinister element about troublesome and dangerous neighbours. Later one of the men sets out to save his old friend from any impulsive action.and finds there is a surprise about these neighbours.                                                  A Pinteresque Man on the 24 by Peter P. Cheevers There is an evening gloom in late summer as I hop on the 24 bus and nearly do myself an injury as its jolts off in fits and starts. I am buffeted around; going upstairs is like riding a twitchy stallion who is deeply affronted that someone is on its back. I get to the top deck and plonk myself down  on the back seat. Ah yes! some quiet reflection for the next 30 minutes or so as the No 24 ekes its way towards North London. The traffic inches along towards Cambridge Circus, this is a city designed for horse and carts, not giant red double deckers.  Being plonked at the very back like this  makes me feel like one of Chaucer’s Pilgrims; the one who always rode at the back because he wanted to watch the actions of all the other pilgrims ahead. Who was that? The ‘Reeve’, I think he was called the Reeve. But on top of this bus there is only one other person ahead, sitting at the  very front. Hold on, hold on, isn’t that. It is. I haltingly make my way up the aisle.  “Lionel? Hello, how are you.”                                                                                                            “Oh, hello there.” ...                                                                                                                          “Right, right...and how is that. Living in the banlieue...” Shouldn’t have said that, “..                           as you call it?”                                                                                                                                        “Well, apart from the neighbours...”                                                                                               “Tell me about neighbours,” I commiserate.                                                                                    “Oh I don’t know, a bit more of the old of grace from them would not go badly,  yes a bit of the old je ne sais quoi, wouldn’t go amiss if you catch my drift?”                                        “Have trouble with them all the time, then?”                                                                                 “Not always, sometimes there is kind of dance of empathy with them, you catch them prying at  you through their net curtains, I gesture to them when this happens, an amused wry greeting,  just to let them know, that I know, but I’m sure they still don’t know, that I know.  Some people are sure that you know but they don’t know if you know or not....