Good cause and effect

"What the f*** are you doing down there." says Vicky, looming out of the later afternoon semi-darkness of the Tesco car park.

"Waiting for spring," I say, bitterly.

"Unless you've learned how to charm daffodils into coming up through tarmac, you're going to have a long wait," she says,

I'm perching on a small folding stool, so low down that unless swallows decide to abandon flying in favour of a tunnel, I'll miss them, and so precariously balanced that the only way I can avoid falling over is by resting my chin on the table on front of me.

"You didn't get conned into selling raffle tickets again, did you?"

"I did," I say, "and I've got the counterfoils to prove it."

Given that I missed Deborah's carol service, parent teacher evening, class assembly and quite possibly the moment of her birth, it's hard to resist her tearful pleas to do 'Just one thing right, Mummy and sell some tickets so the church hall doesn't fall down' - especially when she reinforces the urgency of her appeal by holding a carving knife to her throat as she speaks.

"Nobody's buying," I say to Vicky, "And even when they do I can't see over the top of the table to write down their phone numbers on the stubs."

As I speak, a man takes a look at the top of my head, all that's visible above the table top, and hurries away.

Vicky gets her phone out. "You need Lindy," she says, texting busily.

Five minutes later, Lindy's car screeches to a halt in one of the disabled parking bays. She swats a couple of indignant wheelchair users out of her way and sashays over to the table.

"Raffle tickets - why didn't you tell me earlier?" she says. "Here, give me some. I'm off to play pick and mix."

In thirty minutes, she's back. "Here are the stubs," she says, "And there's the money."

I flick through the books. "Brilliant job," I say, "but only some of them have got phone numbers."

"Oh, that's the ugly ones," she explains, and pats her phone. "The rest are in here. Tall, young, six-packs you could do your times tables on - and all so generous as well. I scarcely had to use any violence at all."

"So what if one of them wins?"

"Don't worry about that," says Bad Lindy. "By the time I've finished with them, they'll all be winners. Tell you what, why don't I send you some of the pictures - that'll put your mind at rest."

"No. Please, no."

"Please yourself," says Bad Lindy. "I'm off, anyway. Got a few calls to make." She winks, and goes.

It's just as well my chin's been resting on the table. The way my jaw has just dropped, it could use the support.