Short Fiction Saturday

Here’s a short story what I wrote one day a few weeks ago. I hope you enjoy!!

 

If there was one thing Phil hated about his job, it was the cold November nights, sat in his car with his binoculars and radio, waiting for something to report.

Tonight was one of those nights. It was half past ten and he’d been sat there for three hours now. His notepad page was virtually blank but for a few scribbled lines he’d made over an hour ago. His flask of coffee was now empty, he still had one ham salad sandwich left, and a packet of crisps too.

The cold weather was playing havoc with the job in hand – his breath kept fogging up the windows, and so every now and then he had to put the blowers on to de-mist them again. His camera remained slung around his neck, the long lens occasionally clunking against the steering wheel as he moved about.

Across the road, in a darkened terrace house, a light suddenly came on. Phil looked over and his face lit up. He swung his camera up and the car was filled with the noise of quick-fire clicking as he took picture after picture of the figure in the window as they went about their business, oblivious to the fact they were being watched.

Phil’s mobile phone lit up on the passenger seat, and the sound of it buzzing on the seat led him to momentarily panic as it reminded him very much of an angry wasp. He looked at the screen and rolled his eyes with a sigh, before swiping his finger across the screen in an upwards motion.

“Hey,” he spoke, abruptly. Speaking to his partner was never an enjoyable task. A tinny voice exploded from the speaker.
“How’s it going, Phil? Much happening?”
“Very little, mate,” Phil almost gagged as he spoke that four letter word. “A light came on just now, but nothing special. She just got herself a drink and something to eat.”
“Anyone else there?”
“Not that I can tell. Must be a quiet night in.”
“Ah, they’re the worst. Not to worry, it’s only a matter of time,” the voice assured him. “Right, I’m off to bed, catch you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, good for you,” Phil replied.

He ended the call and gestured rudely at the phone. As a partner, Mark was lazy and obnoxious. It caused Phil much pain to share fifty percent of his business with him. If it weren’t for his financial input, Phil would have told him to get lost months ago. After all, it was Phil’s past career and contacts that kept the work coming in, not Mark’s. What use is a disgraced teacher in the Private Investigation world?!!

Phil was still there at two in the morning. His notepad was still as blank as it had been three hours previous. He lifted his camera over his head and placed it carefully back in its bag, before brushing the crumbs off the passenger seat into the foot well. He took one last look at the same place he’d been staring at for six and a half hours, just in case something big happened before he left – it didn’t, and so Phil turned the key in the ignition and the car spluttered into life. He put his lights on low so as not to bring attention to himself, and slowly pulled away and drove off down the road.

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