BATEMAN'S CHIPPY

When Bateman retired he sold his chippy business to his daughter Peggy and his young protégé Billy. It seemed appropriate to sell to them after the way they met. Their love story had become the stuff of local legend, a modern day romance to rival the best in history. You may have heard about it? If not, let me refresh your memory. A fish had swallowed Billy's engagement ring that Peggy had thrown in the quay thinking it was fake only to find it returned to her one night at work whilst she was cleaning a fish by the fryers. It was clear that a higher power was at work.

Destiny had sealed her fate with Billy and they were as unified as any young couple could hope to be. Their story had been covered in all the national newspapers and even an acclaimed folk song had been inspired by the tale (tail).

Bateman then was more than happy to leave his business in the couple's safe hands and promised he would come back in every Friday evening to collect his weekly order for plaice and chips.

But often, in his quieter moments during the week, the widower missed the bubbling of the fryers and the sound of chatter from his regulars. Sitting in his lonely cottage in the deep of winter, he often found he would get restless and would have to take a walk through the seaside town, finding it impossible not to walk past his old place to see how busy it was. There was just something so enticing about the windows all steamed up with condensation and emitting that golden heavenly glow from the bright fluroescent lighting inside.

"Just checking up on the old place, Bateman?" Bill, a regular, shouted across the street at him, noticing the retired owner peering in.

"Aye. Nice to see the old place busy."

"You miss it, don't you? Got nothing better to do now, do you?"

"I keep busy enough, thanks."

"What is it these days, Bateman? Crosswords and Sudoko?"

Bateman knew the old customer was baiting him so said nothing more on the subject of his retirement activities. It was that sort of town where you couldn't walk down the street without people noticing and assuming your reasons for leaving your house but it left Bateman feeling like he was perpetually under the microscope. He preferred being on the other side of the counter where he could be the one asking the questions.

He returned home and watched some television in bed whilst nursing a brandy in an old tumbler his late wife' had gifted him the christmas of '92. He hoped that some greater inspiration might strike him the next day. Life without newspapers, fat skimmers and salt and vineger shakers really was no life to Bateman.

But inspiration rarely comes when you hope it to and so Bateman had to wait at least one more day until he received an unexpected call out of the blue breaking the tyranny of his retirement.

It was Billy.

"That you, boss?" he still called him boss which Bateman felt happy about.

"Aye. What is it Billy?"

"My mother's in a bad way and we got to go to the hospital. Wondering if you wouldn't mind taking over the old place for the night. We'll make sure to pay you extra on top of the normal wage."

"I'd do it for free, Bill. You know I would. Besides you're family."

"Yeah. But we appreciate you doing this for us. Peggy said she'd happily do it but she's good with my mum. Calms her down a lot."

"Don't you worry. I'll get myself there as soon as."

"You still got the spare keys?"

Bateman smiled, as he held them up between his fingers attached to a silver bream shaped key ring.

"Aye."

"Thanks boss! You're the best!"

As he put down the phone, he felt genuine concern for Billy's mum but also felt honoured to be able to step in and help out Billy and Peggy in the only way he knew how.

A night without flicking through the endless dross on television made Bateman feel as if Christmas had come early. He got his quilted navy blue jacket and headed out the door, flicking the light of the house off but leaving a radio on for security.

Wearing his familar white apron, Bateman couldn't believe how much it all came back to him, like a naturally talented musician picking up their instrument that's been gathering dust in the attic after months spent away from it.

As he prepped the food, watching the timers, shaking the fryers, conversing with customers, it felt as if he hadn't been away less than a day from the old place.

"Good to have you back, Bateman! We missed you!" said Hilda, one of the oldest customers to still frequent the chippy, never missing her Thursday cod and chips.

"Glad to be back, Hilda! I feel twenty three again."

Feeling the warmth of the sizzling food with specks of hot oil landing on the hairs of his arms, he began to wonder why he ever gave it up. A sense of not getting himself stuck in a rut, maybe? But since he'd retired himself he'd been in more of a rut than ever.

It was then it occurred to him that it was the work that kept him young.

The whole night was over in a single breath, or so it seemed to Bateman who enjoyed his customary end of the night can of Irn-Bru whilst catching some fresh air out the back door of the kitchen, gazing at the moon suspended above the heritage coast of Durham.

"I hope you paid for that!"

Bateman smiled without needing to turn round. He knew it was Billy standing behind him.

"Remember when you used to say that to me?"

"You got through more cans of pop than all the water in Seaham back then. Surprised you still got any teeth left."

Then, remembering there were more serious matters than reminiscing over cans of fizzy, Bateman asked after Billy's mother.

"How is she doing?"

"Stable."

"That's good to hear."

Then Billy, showing the confidence of a boss himself, asked Bateman the question he'd been considering for a few weeks.

"How would you like to split the week running the shop? Would help me and Peggy sort out some things for the house and also help us get ahead with securing our second location for the business."

"I thought you'd never ask. Is Peggy alright with it?"

"She suggested it!"

And with that, Bateman turned round to face his successor and gave him a firm embrace.

"Seems like you've got expansion on your mind in more ways than one, eh?" Bateman said, implying the planning for a baby and a second shop. He couldn't help but feel like a proud father to Billy who had lost his own dad when he was just a teenager.

Laughing, Billy asked Bateman if he wanted a lift home but he declined.

"I think I'll enjoy the walk tonight."

As Bateman headed home through the quiet streets, he'd recovered that peace of mind he'd lost after giving up the business.

Now he had the freedom not to worry about the responsibility of the chippy from a business point of view and simply enjoy all the banter and batter instead.

It seemed to him there was a poetic irony in the roles being reversed and him becoming the employee to Peggy and Billy after being their boss for so many years.

And although he missed his wife a great deal, he wondered if perhaps he might too benefit from a magical fish that could bring a new chapter of love back into his life too and redeem him from the shadow of grief he'd been cast under, like James Mason in that movie he'd forgotten the name of.

Remembering suddenly the words his own father said to him before he died - "you're never too old to believe in a miracle, son," Bateman laughed to himself as he finally recalled the name of the old film and thought of his own new self-appointed title.

"The Frying Dutchman!"