IN THE FRAME 

 

The sun is shining, not a cloud in the sky, almost as though God knew today was a special day; the grand opening of Tony’s shop, ‘In the frame.’ The lingering smell of fresh paint hints at the late effort that went in to the opening. Customers and friends pour in with supportive comments, providing Tony the sense of pride and banishing chest pains of stress to his past. As Tony looks up at the small framed picture behind the counter, he remembers a month ago, how different things were.

 

It began when Tony had to take a second job after twenty years as a picker in one of Reading’s least prestigious warehouses. It was decent income with overtime hours, but when the overtime was stopped Tony was struggling financially. When a friend of a friend said there was a couple of hours every evening as a cleaner in the local primary school, Tony jumped at the chance to replace his lost income.

 

Here, he met the care taker, John, an Army veteran of the Falklands conflict. John walked with a limp, had a wide eyed, yet deeply lined face and a broad, honest smile. John was warm and affable in his conversation; full of stories about his 30 years of Army experience, happily spending hours talking about his memories and anything else that came to mind; Tony knew he could work with him.

 

The job was quite simple and, in that sense, suited Tony. After a full day of work, he didn’t need more stress. He’d turn up at the school, unlocked the utility cupboard take out all the utensils needed to clean the daily rubbish from the five classrooms of the excesses of the day’s activities. The first day went well, as in the work was as straightforward as Tony had wished and John was always there to help and offer any support Tony needed. Tony has always had a relaxed style with people that encouraged their openness and an abundance of small talk over the years. This suited John, who while he was quick to help Tony, was equally as quick to tell many a tale about his last ten years at the school and the many different people he’s seen go through the gates, often completing his story with, “they think I’m just thick, this lot.” Tony is a good listener so he didn’t mind. When Tony returned to the store cupboard John was waiting to lock up, with keys in hand he remarked “This job’s not for many types, but I reckon you’ll fit in.” Tony agreed, “suites me down to the ground.” When departing John briefly turned back to remark “Oh my grandson comes along some nights in the week so you’ll see him tomorrow, but he won’t get in your way.”

 

The next evening, Tony was working on the third classroom when he heard a young voice behind; “You’re kind, I can tell.” Tony looked round to see a small, blond haired child beaming with intrigue at him. He seemed bold yet shy at the same; sure of how to stand, yet unsure what else to say.

“You must be John’s Grandson?”

“What you doing?”

“Cleaning the classrooms for you and your friends.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m Aflie.”

“I’m Tony, How old are you then?”

“Seven, last week.”

“Wow seven? You’re very talkative for seven.”

“Oh” said Alfie, switching his attention to Tony’s unconscious use of the mop on the floor. Tony continued to mop while Alfie watched, asking questions once in a while about Tony’s family life, job and how big is the world. It’s true what John said; the boy was talkative but skilfully dodges Tony’s swaying of the mop and brush. He helped whenever he could by moving a chair out the way or opening a door, unplugging the hover etc. Tony thought he’d never been as full of questions as a boy and he could only reply “I’m not sure” to most of the questions.

While placing back the implements Tony asked “So what class are you in?”

“That one,” Alfie pointed to the room at the end of the corridor, which was the second year class.

“That’s the one my girl used to be in.”

“My Mum doesn’t like me.” For a while Tony stood still, silently taking in what Alfie just said, eventually asking, “Why does your Mum not like you?”

“Cos I upset her,” said Alfie as he looked down in guilt.

Tony jokingly rubbed Alfie’s head, asking “You been a bad boy then?”  

“I suppose so” said Alfie.

“Come, tell me what you did?” For a moment or two Alfie looked down at his feet and after dwelling on the point answered “Don’t know what I did but she left me when I was two cos I did something wrong.” After slowly absorbing the absurdity of the guilt Tony shook his head in disgust; “What idiot told you that?”

“Daddy,” said Alfie.

“Come on you two” shouted out John as he arrived with his jacket on, keys jangling in hand, tapping at his watch, “I got to get him home for dinner.”

 

Alfie’s words mingled in Tony’s head for some time, so he asked his wife about Alfie and she remembered his Father from a chance meeting outside the school gates a few months earlier. Alfie’s Mother had left a couple of years ago, immigrating to Australia with her new husband. Alfie was the product of a one-night stand and her husband didn’t want anything to do with a child, rejecting what wasn’t biologically his. Since then Alfie stayed with his Father and Grandfather. The Father was well known as a trouble-maker amongst other parents on the parent teacher’s association, when he made a rare attendance. Whatever the truth, there was something about that kids face reminded Tony of himself as a child. The innocent friendliness in Alfie’s behaviour, against the misery of a poor hand in life. Aware Alfie was at a pivotal and impressionable stage of his life, Tony feared Alfie might forever be affected by those events and he needed help at that age more than ever; help Tony never had as a kid.

 

The next afternoon Tony went about his cleaning as usual and waited for the arrival of Alfie, but only John turned up. For a man that could talk for England he didn’t want to talk much about Alfie. After a bit of pushing his honest view of Alfie’s life was that his own Son, the Father, was the problem; “He’s a smack head,” admitted John after an exhaustive attempt to explain why he considered his own Son so irresponsible and unreliable, “That’s why I’m looking after him most of the week.” When Alfie next turned up, he stuck to the rear of Tony as usual, while Tony included him as much as he could, by asking Alfie to move chairs out the way and other menial tasks that helped Alfie feel needed and helpful. Soon Alfie opened up more and started to joke around, visibly relaxing in the presence of Tony.

“What you want to do when you’re older?”

Alfie mysteriously replied “be as tall as you,” provoking a laugh form Tony.

“Is this your only job?”

“I work in a warehouse as well, it’s kind of boring.”

“What else?”

“What else could you mean?”

“The arty stuff you do.”

After a moment pondering, Tony realised what arty stuff he meant, “Ah you mean my picture framing.” John had told Alfie about Tony’s picture framing, describing it as a hobby and ‘arty stuff’ to Alfie, who then asked what framing was.

“Find a nice picture you really like then you put a really nice frame round it, making the picture a little more special. That’s what I do.” “Can you do one for me?” asked Alfie. Without hesitation Tony said “Yes of course but you got to bring a nice picture for me to frame.” A little happier the two carried on with work.

 

From that day, Alfie greeted Tony with his beaming smile before every shift, moving chairs for the mop, putting away pots and paint brushes and other implements that might help Tony in some small way. Alfie became Tony’s little helper, with the two growing closer by the day and every day Tony asking “Did you find a really good picture you liked yet?” Then, one day Alfie turned up with a picture to frame. A picture of a smiling happy family of two kids and smiling parents in the 1950s style of dress, not so much a picture, but a magazine cut out of a family. All of the family had unusually huge smiles, staring back at the viewer with a merry glee.

“They’re a perfect family.” Alfie made a point of bringing attention to the unrealistic smiles as proof of the family’s happiness. Tony again saw so much of Alfie in himself and the tragedy of miss-placed affection, like Tony once did, before the dark of reason had grown over him. “Don’t worry Alfie, I’ll make a lovely frame for the lovely picture, and we’ll have it up on your wall in no time. Tony took the picture home that night and put it in the pile of pictures that he still had to frame, intent on framing that one first, just as soon as he got round to it.

“My picture, did you do it?”

“No Alfie, it takes time to do it.” The picture of excitement Alfie had dropped rapidly. Tony added “It’s not that easy Alfie. It takes a few days I’m afraid, but it’ll be worth it!”

 

What Tony hadn’t told Alfie was that picture was sitting on a pile of picture waiting to be done for almost two years now. When Tony went home that night the pile of prints and pictures that Tony had stored up sat depressingly still; a testament to Tony’s lack of activity. A spider’s web could be seen in progress and none of them were framed. No frames were even being prepared for the prints, and there was even a significant layer of dust on the pile, of which now sat Alfie’s cut-out. For some time, Tony sat at the desk thinking about the task at hand; it was large, getting back in to the habit of framing when you’ve spent almost two years doing nothing about it. With every day of inactivity, it only got a bit harder every Sunday he realised another weekend had gone to get some frames done. Poor Alfie didn’t understand.

 

To Alfie, life was all so simple; all you did was get on with the thing you wanted to do and it happened, but Tony was all too aware that adulthood is full of compromise and disappointment. Completing the framing was harder now anyway because Tony had suffered from depression, while an overwhelming sense of self-doubt had hovered over Tony’s framing for some time, brought on by a debilitating depression that the young innocent Alfie just wouldn’t understand.

 

Tony also knew that the framing was an expression of his own creativity and imagination and just looking at the dormant pile reminded Tony of the work he had forgotten and the people behind each picture that felt let down and ultimately disappointed. Such thoughts fuelled his self-doubt and fanned the flames of his depression. For all Tony’s rationalising he couldn’t help feeling he owed it to Alfie to at least try framing his picture. There was something so sad about Alfie’s everlasting smile that flew in the face of his unhappy childhood and Alfie deserved some happiness.

 

Next evening was the same; Alfie came running up to Tony full of enthusiasm and expectation asking “Is it ready yet?”

“Still not done yet. Sorry Alfie.” Even when Tony was apologising the look of disappointment on Alfie’s face was too much to bear and there was a bit in Tony that died that moment, so he was determined to frame Alfie the picture that very evening, spurred on by that look of disappointment. He knew if he turned up the next day without the picture Alfie would have lost a bit more belief in Tony and he couldn’t handle that. So, spurred on by a need to do just one frame when Tony had finished the cleaning, he took his camera out of the car and asked John if he could take a picture of Alfie, himself and John together. Once he took three pictures, said his goodbyes, and went home that night determined to do one picture for Alfie, while surrounded by the unfinished pictures and frames of so many others. When Tony returned that night he didn’t sit down in front of the TV, no chatting on the phone or browsing the internet, just straight to his shed and Alfie’s frame.

 

Instead of sitting to look at the pile Tony took a piece of his best oak wood and started making a frame. To his pleasure and surprise, it didn’t take Tony long to perfectly frame the picture, which was after all a small simple job. Indeed, he looking at what he could also do to some of the unfinished frames and pictures and was soon attempting to cut down the pile. His wife was so delighted to see him in the shed for so long, she took his dinner and an extra slice of lemon cake for afters to him, something she hadn’t done for a while. But Tony didn’t stop once he’d had his dinner & cake; full of contentment, he made unexpected light work of the others. With enthused ease, he beavered away until half past twelve that night when he crept in to bed and his wife asked “Did you get that picture done?” Tony replied “That one and a few others.”

 

Not only was Alfie delighted with the picture, but the relationship that developed with Alfie had reinvigorated Tony’s love for framing, encouraging his creativity to the forefront of his life again. Tony rationalised the kid - like himself - had spent so much time doubting the wonder of himself that had forgotten how good he was as a person. There was hope for both of them as long as they remained friends and stayed as positive and helpful with one another.

 

Alfie had helped rekindle the creativity in Tony, he wouldn’t let the kid down. Since then, many pictures were framed, healing friendships and promoting his ability as a picture framer again, encouraging more orders from deserved recommendations. Tony’s quality was always there but his quantity of designs and subsequent orders have increased as a result; gaining more of a reputation for his framing and increasing his customer base. Soon, there was too much work to be done part-time. Tony tried not to give up his steady job; framing every night, eating his dinner in his shed and being aided by his understanding wife but it was soon clear an important decision was going to have to be taken about his future career. Tony developed more freedom of mind to express his art and in time the self-confidence to open a framing shop, which he calls ‘In the frame.’

 

Alfie gave Tony the catalyst he needed to address his own failings and get his hands back to the wood of picture framing. Tony never forgets an opportunity to tell people how much he owes to his very good friend Alfie. The shop is a success, because the man who runs it loves what he does and if you go down Reading high street and walk in, behind the counter is a little picture of three people. Ask him about the picture.