The Wall

"Well," said Mr Ku. "Not bad, is it?"

Mr Ku was looking at a wall. It was a bad wall.

"It's a bad wall," said Liz.

"It's not bad," said Mr Ku.

Liz's phone went off, and she rummaged around in her bag to find it. She wanted to find it quickly, because her ringtone became unbearable after about ten seconds. The first five seconds were an electronic chirrup, the second five seconds were some kind of clapping, and then the unbearability kicked in.

She answered it on nine.

"Hello?" she said. She turned her face away from Mr Ku, so he couldn't see what her mouth was feeling. After a few seconds of listening to a question, she said "it's... not bad".

Mr Ku triumphantly popped his paintbrush into an empty tin and started to whistle. 

It was Friday, and everyone wanted to get off early. Richard - Joanne's boy - had already packed his stuff into his rucksack. There wasn't enough stuff to justify a rucksack and he wore it on only one shoulder, so it sagged like a hollow pear.

He raised his eyebrows at Mr Ku. Mr Ku replied with a thumbs up, and Richard smiled. He started to text someone, holding his phone on the opposite side to the sagging rucksack. Every now and then, it would slip down his shoulder, and he'd shrug it back on. Mr Ku rolled up sheets.

Liz was still on the phone. The person on the other end had been speaking for quite a while, but Liz had lost interest. She had faith in her ability to mask her inattentiveness with a vague conclusive remark. 

"Well, what can you do?" she said. "Yep. Speak to you tomorrow."

She ended the call and looked back at the wall. Her time away from it had not improved matters. It looked worse than ever. 

"Right," said Mr Ku, who had bundled up sheets and brushes and tins and an old-fashioned metal lunch box all together in his arms. "We'll be off then."

Richard had finished his text, and slid his phone into his shirt pocket.

"Have a good weekend," said Liz.

"You too," said Mr Ku.

"You too," said Richard as well, though they were slightly out of sync.

After they had gone, Liz walked over to the wall, and put her face so close to it that she nearly got paint on her nose. She squinted and took four big steps backwards. It was definitely a bad wall.

Richard knocked gently on the door and came straight in. "I forgot my gloves," he said. 

Liz was still staring at the wall, and made no sign that she'd heard or seen him. Richard followed her gaze to the wall. Then he looked back at Liz, then back at the wall. He furrowed his brow, and opened his mouth to speak. Liz was still staring, and was clearly not happy.

He took a few steps over to the wall, leaned down, and turned the plug socket on. The effect was immediate. Liz took a step back in shock. Her eyes widened. 

Richard gave a little embarrassed smile. Liz looked at him with amazement. Then she looked back at the wall. She cantered about the room, looking at it from different angles.

Richard gave a little silent wave and headed towards the door.

"Now that," said Liz, "- THAT - is a good wall." She put her hands on her hips and drank it all in.

"It's not bad," said Richard, and then he let himself out.

***

I don't know what that was. It's probably not important.