He was NOT happy. ‘Have you seen that rubbish down the road? It’s disgusting – and what’s the bloody council doing about it? Nothing! Not one bloody thing.’
‘Don’t worry Jim, it’ll be all gone by the time you get back from your golf.’
‘Who’s going to do that then? You I suppose. You’re daft – all of you. Stupid, daft women with nothing better to do than do the council’s dirty work – for nothing.’ With that he picked up his golf bag and left – slamming the door behind him.
‘Men,’ murmured Rosemary to herself as she cleared away the breakfast things. ‘It’s a good job there are women in this world.’
The telephone rang. ‘Mrs Bradshaw?’ a voice asked. ‘Speaking.’
‘Rosemary?’ ‘Yes Peter.’
‘All ready for today?’ ‘Of course.’
‘One o’clock at the recycling plant then?’ ‘Certainly; I’ll be there.’
The line went dead and she replaced the handset. ‘Right Rosemary; let’s get this show on the road’ she chuckled.
Half an hour later she and three other ladies were busily picking up the roadside rubbish that so annoyed Jim. The council provided bags were soon filled as the four worked their way along ‘Rosemary’s’ road. That done, they repeated the exercise along four more roads before stopping for a break.
Back in Rosemary’s kitchen the conversation was on just one subject – the rubbish they had just bagged up. ‘We agreed with the council that we would gather the bags for each road into piles at convenient places for the men to collect them. Are we still happy with this?’ There was total agreement.
‘Right ladies, let’s get it finished and ready for them.’
It didn’t take long, and the four were soon standing admiring their work. ‘Thank you very much ladies, your help has been great. I’ve got all the paperwork so I’ll take that down to the recycling centre later this morning. Have a nice day.’
Rosemary’s three helpers headed for home but she had one more job to do before setting off to the recycling centre. The job took her a quarter of an hour or so and, with that done, she gathered together various other things she needed; left a brief note for Jim and headed off to the recycling centre.
Peter was at his desk. Rosemary handed over the ‘Ladies Tidy Campaign’ papers. ‘Looks good,’ he said. ‘The lads have called in and reported that the bags have been picked up as planned, and the whole area looks great. Everyone on those roads will be very pleased with what you have done. May I buy you some lunch? You deserve it.’
‘Well thank you kind sir; I accept your invitation. Shall we go in my car?’
‘Yes please. The council gets annoyed when their cars are used for social purposes. Is there room for my case?’
As they drove out of the council gates Jim was arriving home from his golf. He was not happy with the pile of full rubbish bags blocking his drive.
He was even less happy with Rosemary’s note saying ‘Goodbye’!