Brigid Carrick - Ailish and the Phoneline

Published in Jump - The Time is Now

Tales from the Sydney Hammond Memorial Short Story Competition, 2021.

Stories on the Theme of Courage

Hawkeye Publishing

Ailish and the Phoneline

With a young child to care for and nobody to help her, Ailish had her hands full. The last thing she needed was to teach a technician how to fix a phone line.

Tuesday was the first time her phone died and Ailish asked her neighbour,

‘May I use your phone please?’

‘Help yourself, it’s in the hall.’

Ailish called Telecom and said, ‘My phone won’t work,’

‘We’ll come out tomorrow and fix it Missus.’ They did.

‘There you are now Missus, all fixed. That’ll be £50,’ the fixer said.

‘I want a receipt,’ Ailish said, as she paid the money.

When the phone stopped working on Thursday, Ailish was not quite as polite.

‘I have a young baby. If he’s sick in the middle of the night and I can’t call a doctor, I’ll hold you responsible,’ she warned.

‘We’ll be out tomorrow to fix it Missus,’ he assured her.

‘Fix it right this time,’ she demanded.

She stood over the workmen, looking down into the hole and observed their work.

‘£50 missus,’ he told her.

‘I paid you £50 last time. Why do I have to pay again?’ Ailish asked.

‘It was a different problem this time.’

She paid up saying, ‘I’ll write a letter about having to pay twice.’ Ailish summoned her courage and visited the hardware shop.

With rain pelting down on Sunday afternoon, when Ailish found herself without a phone for the third time, she disturbed her neighbour again.

Telecom’s recorded message said, ‘We’re closed Sundays, ring tomorrow.’

Ailish banged down the phone. She had had enough. Her determination increased and she asked her neighbour. ‘Will you mind the baby for me?’

‘Of course,’ she said. When her neighbour looked at her and sensed something was up, she added, ’Don’t get up to anything rash.’

Ailish returned home, picked up her shovel and roll of duct tape, then, took to the street.

She began to dig. Soon she was deep in the hole, with a pile of earth taking up half the road. A man walked down the street, he could hear language but couldn’t see any person. Next, he noticed the hole in the road. As he got closer, he saw red curly hair bouncing up and down out of the hole.

He peered in and shouted, ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Ailish threw a shovel of muck out of the hole covering his good Sunday shoes. He screamed expletives as he took off. A car driver noticed a head bobbing up and down and almost drove into a parked car. He opened the window, hung out and shouted angry abuse.

Ailish ignored him and dug on, but his tirade brought neighbours out. Name-calling came from other drivers too, when they were delayed by the ever-increasing pile of dirt blocking the street.

‘Stop blowing your horn,’ she shouted at another.

‘You should be arrested,’ one bloke said.

‘Well, if you don’t like what I’m doing, get out of your car and help me,’ she bellowed back at him.

She found the damaged cable, tore off a length of duct tape and wrapped the two ends of the cable together. Well, that was what the other eejits did ̶ didn’t they and that cost me £50, twice, she thought.

Doris Kelly made a phone call, ‘Telecom, someone is obstructing the thoroughfare. You’d better get out here, quick,’ she said.

A truck rounded the corner and came to a screeching halt at the hole in the road.

‘Get out of that hole Missus,’ the foreman ordered.

‘I’m fixing my phone-line,’ she screeched back.

‘You’re not allowed to dig holes in the street,’ he bellowed.

‘Telecom said you don’t work on Sundays,’ Ailish said back, standing akimbo, as she looked out at him.

‘We’re the emergency service. When your neighbours phoned to say what you were up to, we knew there was a major problem and that we had trouble on our hands,’ he said.

‘If you fixed my phone-line right the first time, I wouldn’t need to fix it myself,’ Ailish screamed.

‘Missus, your causing pandemonium, please get out of the hole,’ the man urged.

‘All you did twice, was wrap a bit of duct tape around the cables and when it rained, water seeped in. How did you think that’d fix it? What kind of omadons work for you?’ Ailish asked.

‘We’ll fix it for you Missus,’ he pleaded, now on his knees, leaning into the hole and offering his hand to help her out.

‘I want it fixed right this time,’ she said. ‘I don’t want tape,’ Ailish warned, wagging her finger at him.

‘Please catch my hand,’ the foreman appealed, as the team of men took their tools and ladder out of their truck and prepared to get to work.

‘On second thoughts, I’ll stay here and watch, then if it breaks again, I won’t need to waste your time. I’ll just fix it myself,’ she said, folding her arms.

‘We’re replacing the broken cable with a new one,’ the foreman told her with a smile.

‘Well, why didn’t you do that the first time.’ Ailish continued to instruct the workmen by shouting orders into the hole. ‘I’m watching. I’m taking notes. I’m warning you, if it breaks again, I’ll write a letter to the papers and tell people the troubles I had with Telecom.’

Two hours later, the cable was fixed, the hole was filled in and the foreman said,

‘There’s no charge this time Missus.’

‘I’ve no intention of paying anything, I paid twice already. You should give me a rebate.’

‘I’m sorry that it wasn’t fixed right the first time,’ the boss said, looking sad. ‘You have a lot of courage Missus, but you shouldn’t dig holes in the street. Someone might fall into it.’

‘Is that a fact, Ailish asked sarcastically.

‘Did you know Missus, people are making a living out of falling into holes?’