The Good Samaritan

I got this message from Pete in Hong Kong, telling me that he’d had a strange message saying there was a small package addressed to me at Post Restante, Norwich. Well, I’d only just got back from that part of the world and I didn’t particularly want to go back straight away, but old Shamus was curious. In the end of course, curiosity killed the cat so, a couple of days later I boarded the train at Liverpool Street. It was a terrible journey, ‘cos there was no buffet car, I couldn’t smoke anything and I think we went via Bath and Pontefract. That’s privatization for you!

So, I picked up this package and drove out to the wilds to see my mate Les. When we opened it up, there were a few razor blades that weren’t new and a rolled up ten shilling note. For those bozos still in short trousers or gymslips, or have no pubic hair, ten shillings is pre-decimal currency and was worth about 50 pence in the old days. Come to think of it, you might be in short trousers, have no pubic hair and be 45 years old, but you get my drift?

But it’s a mystery isn’t it? There was no note or anything, just the blades and a ten bob note. Well, what kind of “message” is that? The only conclusion I could come to was that this person hates the album so much, they’re inviting me to slit my wrists so I can’t make a follow up. Well, that’s taking things a bit far! Les cheered me up when he suggested that there could be another use for these little items and that, at some point in the future, there may be another little package addressed to me with a stamp from Columbia or Peru or somewhere like that.

We drove out to the coast to see old Norris, get his thoughts on the matter and have a smoked mackerel dinner. As Norris was a bit depressed, we didn’t mention the package, but if anyone out there has any ideas, will you let Shamus know?