Weatherman
Without his phone’s weather app, Al had to live dangerously!
I wouldn’t bother hanging that lot out,” Al called from the bedroom window as Mary wrestled with the queen size sheet she was pegging onto the line.
She paused to look up at Al and sighed with mild irritation when she saw he was tapping the screen of his smartphone.
“Says it’s going to rain at eleven,” Al said in the officious, know-it-all tone he used when reporting data from one of the various apps he’d installed.
Mary stared at the sky. A few fluffy clouds were scurrying across the wintery blue, but the sun was peeking through, and a brisk breeze was blowing from the west. Perfect drying weather.
“Looks fine to me,” she said.
At 11:15, Mary heard the first few drops tapping on the kitchen window and noticed the earlier pale blue sky had been replaced with leaden clouds. Dashing outside, she yanked laundry from the line as quickly as she could.
“I did warn you,” said Al when she returned with the laundry basket.
“Well, they’ve had a nice blow, so I’ll finish them off in the dryer,” Mary said reluctantly.
Keen to do her bit for the environment, she rarely used the dryer, but it looked like the downpour wasn’t going to let up anytime soon.
“No need. It can go out again early afternoon. Rain’s due to stop at two.” Al thrust his phone into Mary’s line of vision.
Torn between taking a stand against the tyranny of Al’s apps and care for the planet, Mary left the damp load of laundry in the basket on the counter but could barely contain her delight when at two o’clock it was still drizzling.
“Give it a minute or two,” Al said confidently, checking his screen.
Glancing out the window, Mary was disappointed to see a glimpse of blue sky overhead.
“I wish I hadn’t agreed to a bike ride with Phil on Thursday,” Al said, without looking up. “Rain’s forecast.”
“Al, this is England! Wet weather shouldn’t come as a surprise! Just wear your waterproofs.”
“Wind as well,” he grumbled. “Better batten down the hatches!”
Mary stifled a sigh. Obviously, Al had missed his vocation as a weatherman.
“I’ll see if Phil will go on Friday instead. Sunny all day on Friday,” Al said, transfixed by his screen.
“Thursday’s three days away. It could all change by then. We might get snow!” Mary joked.
Al was not amused.
“Actually, my weather app is about 92 per cent accurate. I’ve been tracking its performance with a chart, and …”
“A chart!” Al’s app obsession was worse than she thought. Perhaps, it was time for an intervention.
Mysteriously, both of their phones went missing overnight.
“Fancy a walk along West Beach this morning?” Mary suggested, over breakfast the next day.
“Let me check the weather… Have you seen my phone?”
“You’ve only got to look out the window to see it’s a beautiful day,” she said, sidestepping his question.
“Looks fine now, but I’d like to check my app …”
“Live dangerously!” Mary laughed.
The wind was bracing as they set off along the sand, and Al was clearly anxious, patting his pockets every so often in the hope that his missing phone would magically reappear.
They almost made it to the village at the far end of the beach when the deluge began. Driving rain that stung.
Holding hands, they made a dash for the pub.
They sheltered in the doorway laughing, their cheeks red, eyes shining, and hair dripping.
“That was exhilarating!” Mary wiped the water purling down Al’s face with the cuff of her jacket as he pulled her close and hugged her.
“It was! Shall we have some lunch and get out of the wet?”
Sitting beside the log fire, Al and Mary were soon glowing inside and out as they enjoyed big bowls of warming homemade soup.
“Still raining,” Al reported gloomily, after they’d eaten. “If I had my phone, I’d know when it’s going to stop.”
“Well, I’m glad you couldn’t find it this morning, because we’d have missed out on that lovely walk along the beach and this lunch!
“Since you discovered that weather app, you’ve developed an aversion to rain! And I enjoy a walk in the rain every now and again.”
“Me too… if it’s with you… Maybe I have become a little too reliant on that app,” he admitted.
Time to put Al out of his misery.
Mary dug into her jacket pocket and pulled out her phone.
Al became animated. “Your phone! In your pocket all this time! Is mine there?”
Mary shook her head. “I’m sure yours will turn up though,” she reassured him.
After a few taps on her screen, Mary announced, “According to the app, the rain should stop in 30 minutes, so even allowing for only 92 per cent accuracy, we’ve time for coffee and apple pie.”
“Perfect!” Al grinned. Peering outside, he added, “It’s definitely brightening up.”
“Yes, it is,” Mary smiled.
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