|A good man (standard:Psychological fiction, 3812 words)|
|Author: Lev821||Added: Dec 06 2014||Views/Reads: 860/560||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Turning up in the town to try and do good for the community, does he have an alternative motive?|
The look on his face told him what he already knew. He was a good man. The sad pitiful face of a beggar sat with a dirty sleeping bag across his knees, looked at Ray Caldwell in surprise. Nobody had ever given him a twenty-pound note before. Normally he would get people's coppers, or paltry change when they came out of the supermarket he had huddled outside of. "Fank you sir, Fank you sir," he said, as Ray walked into the store. "Spare some change" he heard him ask somebody leaving. Ray guessed he wouldn't get as much as what he had given him. Most people, he thought, looked down their noses at beggars, pretended they weren't there. Had selective deafness when asked for change. Not me, thought Ray, I'm a good man. He was 58, and was one of those people that did not look their age. He looked younger by 10 or 15 years. One of those people to whom time had been kind. He had been likened in the past to a lookalike of an early hollywood movie star. Not anyone in particular, but that general appearance. Tall, black sleeked hair, white teeth, as if he was trying to emulate them but not quite succeeding. After ten minutes of shopping he was on his way to the exit when he noticed a food bank by the exit, half full. He smiled, and put some of his food in there, looking around to see if anybody could see him. Two people were. He left the store, turning the other way away from the beggar. He had arrived yesterday in the small town of Taysran, 30 miles shy of the Scottish border from London in his Toyota Yaris, 246 miles away, non-stop. He knew at some point he would need to get the car serviced. Get it checked after the arduous journey, like a horse after a long race. He wasn't sure if he would be needing it for a while though. Everything he needed in this place was within walking distance, and he had no desire to go back. There was nothing there for him now. This place seemed fine. Even though he had only been here one night, he believed he could settle here. The local pubs he knew were a good way to meet people, to meet its denizens, but he wouldn't jump in at the deep end yet, he would absorb the place, let it soak into him, especially if it was to be his new home. When he had arrived he had found a bed and breakfast and decided to stay there until he found somewhere more permanent. As he walked into his abode, the owner, Mrs Eileen Waters smiled at him, sat at the counter, which was effectively just a small table and a laptop. He smiled back and she went coy, finding interest in the notebook before her. As he climbed upstairs he was still smiling. She fancies me, he thought. Can't blame her. He let himself into his small room, put the shopping next to the sink and walked through into the bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror. I wonder, he thought. What if I got to know her, maybe even became her other half. Maybe he guessed, husband. He knew that she would be a pillar of the town. A lot of people would know her, so if he got with her, it would be a good way to integrate himself with the community. A good way to show people that he was decent, honest, extremely trustworthy, certainly someone worthy of being Eileen's other half. He knew he was getting away with himself. Maybe she was already married, or had somebody. Even though she was older than him, and not somebody he found particularly attractive, he knew it could be good for him if he got with her. He nodded to himself. She would be a good way for him to show people that he was a good man. "Yes," he whispered at himself in the mirror. "I am a good man". He nodded. "Say it again. I am a good man". He leaned forward so his face was two inches from the glass. "Yes you are" he said. The following day he decided to have a proper look around the town, but only got ten minutes along a few roads before he spotted a man in his front garden building a fence. Ray was quite partial to D.I.Y and thought it may be a good way to ingratiate himself with a local, because if he befriended one, then he would probably at some point be Click here to read the rest of this story (265 more lines)
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