Odd Bod

AN ODD BOD

Homeless Hugo Bamford had been sleeping in a bus shelter located at the top end of Bayswater for a few nights. The structure itself had been refurbished, courtesy of an adjacent local cafe. In exchange for a sign written ad with a large finger pointing in the Cafe‘s direction that read:

“Go to the Odd Bods Cafe and try the worst coffee one woman on Trip Advisor ever had in her life.”

The Odd Bods was quirky to say the least.

From Hugo’s point of view the location was a safer and dryer option. The last place he frequented was open to the elements and this new venue was near a Police station.

His plight hadn't gone unnoticed by Lev Lensky, the proprietor of the Odd Bods.

Hugo became aware of Lev’s presence hearing him say:

‘Hi, I brought you something to eat. I’m Lev from the Odd Bods cafe across the road. What’s your name?’

‘Hugo.’

‘What happened to you Hugo? If you don’t mind me asking that is, genuine question as it were.’

Hugo cleared his throat and with close to a cut glass Oxford accent said:

‘Would you believe me if I said I used to be in a Lloyds syndicate and to put it mildly, caught a cold? No, course you wouldn’t and indeed who would ? Then, this bloke beats up my sister and I er, returned the compliment if you get my drift, then the Police pitched up.

Big mistake, got me some jail time. Started to drink a bit.. I’ll stop there. Anyway great riches to rags story. Not hopeful for the return journey. Given it all up as a bad job, well suppose that's obvious isn't it. Thanks for the food though.’

Lev noted Hugo’s cultured voice .

‘Yes I’d believe it. Haven’t you .. Sorry its not my business. Look, when you’re hungry, pop in to the Odd Bods, I’m the owner. Lev.I’ll let the staff know.Ok?

Hugo put his sandwich holding hand aloft in acknowledgment as Lev turned to leave he heard Hugo say:

‘Jolly decent of you old chap.’

Back in his Cafe one of the regulars, (the once upon a time ) “Honourable” Clive Banks -Rolley asked:

‘What’s the story with the homeless guy? You seemed to have quite a chat.

‘He speaks even posher than you do Clive. Ex Lloyds insurance.’

‘Really? You don’t say. How interesting, if true of course. ’

‘Riches to rags' story only got a scant outline. Poor chap.’

‘Oh look out!’ was heard from another Cafe regular known as the Major.

Heads turned as through the door came a Rabbi, a Vicar and a Priest.

Clive called out:

’Is this one of those, walked into a bar type jokes? To what do we owe the pleasure of three gentlemen of the cloth? Canterbury, Rome and Jerusalem ? All in one go.

‘Belt up Clive.’ Was the Priest’s riposte.

Lev appeared from the kitchen:

‘Ah some tea Vicar?’

‘How droll, I’ve never heard that before. Yes, pot of your usual slop.’ Martin the Vicar of St Mary's replied.

Lev took the Vicar to one side:

‘See that chap over the road in the Odd Bods shelter?’

‘Yes.’

‘Can we get him into your mission as soon as possible?’

‘There is space, if he is willing to go, not all are sadly.’

‘I’ll find out. Lev replied.

‘Don’t worry I’ll go and have a word in a minute.’

‘OK.’

‘Coming to the quiz night Vicar ? You’ve almost got a team right there, just need a Curate, or a Cantor, or Monsignor to make up the numbers. You’ll need a team name. I’ll see what I can come up with. Got it. This is genius if I say so myself ! Here we go, how about “For weddings and funerals.”

All three clergy groaned in unison.

‘There’s somewhat more to it than that Lev, as well you know.” The Rabbi remarked.

A little while later Lev looked across the road to see Clive and the Vicar talking to Hugo. When he looked again, the three of them were gone.

Next day, Clive was passing the Odd Bods and waved, stopped then went back into the Cafe.

‘Spoken to homeless Hugo. I knew of his syndicate as it happens, yes they caught a cold, understatement really so his story checks out. Then of course he had the altercation and copped an ABH. Anyway he’s got shelter at the mission for a while. I’m going to get him sorted out as best I can in the meantime. Nice guy.’

‘We’ve got the quiz coming up versus the Dog’s Nuts, wonder if he’d like to MC it.’

‘I’ll ask, I’m seeing him tomorrow.’

Clive took Hugo to his barber’s in Mayfair, outside Hugo asked:

‘Why are you doing this for me Clive?’

Listen old chap, done a bit of porridge myself. Got caught insider trading kind of deal, lost my title into the bargain. I put my hands up and got a comparatively token sentence.’

‘You made it worth your while I’m guessing.’

‘For sure. To the point we found something valuable we’d not been aware of post the purchase, win win as it were.’

‘Good of that Lev guy to come over and break the ice as it were.’

‘Nice guy, he’s looking for a quiz master MC in a few days time, fancy it?’

‘Why not?’

'Come on let’s get you ship shape.’

By the afternoon Hugo had been almost restored to his former appearance. They’d stopped on the way back from the barbers and bought him some new clothes.

The Quiz evening at the Cafe came round, two sides, an old rivalry between the Odd Bods patrons and a local pub.

Hugo appeared from the kitchen on Lev’s cue.

He took the microphone and introduced himself:

‘Hello, my name is Hugo, some may remember me from living locally shall we say.’

Some applause was followed by Hugo:

‘So good people, let’s get cracking with the first question. Ah a no brainer for the assembled clergy:

‘Who’s wife was turned into a pillar of salt when she looked back?’

‘He sounds posher than you Clive.’

Someone from a nearby table remarked.

Coming in late to the Cafe was a guest to the quiz event, neither an Odd Bod frequenter, nor a Pub regular. But a Tango teacher from Argentina.

Alicia de Sousa e Christo. A tall woman stylish and colour coordinated dresser, every inch a Tanguera.

She sat next to Clive and his friend Natasha.

‘Who’s the dish at the microphone?’ Alicia immediately asked.

Clive was quick to inform:

‘That’s Hugo, excellent chap, was in Lloyds of London but… moved on.

‘Oh the bank?’

‘No the insurer. And reinsurer. Interestingly it started in a coffee shop in the seventeenth century.

'Riveting Clive.' Natasha remarked.

‘Do you want an introduction to the dish Alicia ?’ Clive asked.

‘Ooh yes. Why not?’

Twenty minutes later Hugo announced a half time break.

Alicia excused herself to the Ladies.

‘Back in a minute, then you can introduce me.’

Natasha leaned into Clive:

‘You are a very naughty boy, you know full well Alicia only snares rich men. Mind it could be entertaining I suppose. I’m surprised she hasn’t tried it with you.’

‘Who’s to say she hasn’t?’

‘Really?’

‘Nads, you sounded a bit jealous there.’

‘Ha. Me, don’t flatter yourself.’

Clive looked a little crestfallen.

She leaned in and whispered.

‘Didn’t mean it.’

‘I know. You love me really. Can’t blame you.’

Which earned him a whack on the arm.

Clive went to have a word with Hugo.

‘How goes it?’

‘Better thanks Clive.’

‘You have an admirer, by the way.’

‘I do?’

Clive nodded at the incoming Alicia making her way back to the table.

‘High maintenance though.’

‘Quite a looker. Ha! She won’t want to have anything to do with me then.’

‘Might be fun old chap?’

Hugo wandered over and introduced himself:

‘Hello I’m Hugo, you are?’

‘Alicia de Sousa e Christo.’

Delivered as it were something more like a higher state of mind, than an actual name.

‘Wow that’s some name. You live around here?’

‘Hampstead.’

‘Where else?’

‘You?’

‘Not far from here actually.’

Clive and Natasha exchanged smiles.

Hugo noticed Lev waving him back:

‘I’d better get back to the quiz questions . Nice to meet you. Speak later perhaps?’

‘Oh yes let’s.’

Back at the microphone, Hugo resumed:

‘Round two as it were and we’re off. In which country are there six villages called Silly, twelve called Billy, and two called Pratt?

A brief silence, followed by the next question:

‘An old Hall and Oates song that might well suggest a large appetite.’

Clive looked at Natasha and nodded at Alicia who was fiddling around in her handbag.

Natasha looked mystified.

‘Think the last one, the song one, is man-eater.’ Nodding again at Alicia.

Natasha made a roll of her eyes, gave Clive a smile and a playful kick.

Alicia looked puzzled, not sure if she’d been the subject of a private joke.

‘Before your time Alicia, you have to be Clive’s age to know.’

‘No substitute for experience.’ Clive’s rejoinder.

After the quiz was over, Hugo returned to Clive’s group and engaged in conversation by Alicia.

They later left together.

What transpired for Hugo were dance lessons with Alicia. Within six weeks she declared him a “natural”.

The time was approaching for Alicia to take up another contract for a cruise company. Her role, an on board dance teacher. She made enquiries on Hugo's behalf. Men who were proficient dancers were hired to partner single ladies. She secured a place for Hugo if he fancied the idea.

They sailed off from Southampton into the sunset en route to the West Indies.

It later transpired they became a couple. Hugo would no longer be partnerless or indeed; homeless.

THE END