Thank you for your kind counsel over my recent manic spells and woes...
I am, as French Fancy said, more suited to a lizard-lounge life, lounging on a chaise-longue, in flimsy lace and crushed velvet, than clinging be-helmeted, helplessly, on to the back of a motorbike as a pillion passenger...
However, we are now the proud parents of a blue Honda 750 something or another, ZZR?!?, on an 'F' plate, lawd help us...
We had viewed the bike, which was up for sale on the Easy Peasy Bay, last week one evening after work, and so I met and fell in love with its owners, who were so lovely, honest and decent, that I was enchanted. We encountered their warm and wild Scottish Terrier dogs, were kindly offered cups of tea in their cosy home, and I had a very soft and fluffy feeling about the pair of them. Trustworthy, honest souls, they were. You can sometimes tell that about people from the moment you set eyes on them. "This will be an honest sale, if you can get the bike", I proffered to GJ.
He continued to watch the laptop screen as the bids rose and he lost out with moments to spare to a new bidder from Essex, with no sales or feedback to his name... GJ was sorely disappointed.
"It wasn't meant to be", I countered, helpful as ever.
"E-mail the owner, Iain", I said, "...thank them for their time, mention that you were seriously interested, say how disappointed you are at losing it. Wish them well... It's just common courtesy. All good for the Karmic record...
"Then, when the buyer turns out to be a scammer, or fake, Iain might come back to you and let you have it.
"In another life and time, perhaps, with the shoe on another foot, so to speak, we could have been good friends with that lovely couple. They are good souls..."
And, I think you might be able to guess the outcome here... Iain e-mailed back to say that the Essex buyer knew nothing about the bids against his name. He did not want to buy the bike. Iain withdrew the sale and the ad, and replied to GJ's e-mail, asking if he was still interested...
Iain delivered the bike to us yesterday, on the warmest, sun-shining-est day there's been in England this year. He disrobed from his suit of leather in my back garden, and I tickled the dogs once again, while chatting to his lovely wife, who'd accompanied him to take him back to their home.
"We could have been neighbours of yours. Three years ago", she said, pointing at Andy's house, who'd passed on in his cottage, having lived there since he was 7. "We had three viewings of the house. We even brought builders up to look at all the work that needed to be done... In the end, sadly, we had to go for a bungalow instead, as I needed surgery on my knee, and could no longer manage any stairs..."
Iain was telling the same story to GJ at this point... We waved them off, and we looked at each other and wondered...
Spooky, you see. Serendipity. Lives and loves cross and uncross. We glide past like-minded and lovely souls in our lives. Exchanging glances. Chances.
...And, in this case, handing on the papers and the keys for a well-travelled motorbike...
Life goes on.
