Lost Goods

“Oh, how I loathe moving day,” Mary grumbled.

“Where are you?”

“Here!” Came a disembodied voice.

“What are you doing upside down in a packing box? Aren’t the moving men going to pack everything?”

“I don’t trust them with Mum’s Crown Derby dinner service.” Mary emerged red-faced.

“It needs to be placed gently into the box and ‘THIS WAY UP and FRAGILE marked clearly. Remember the last move?”

“How could I forget?” Jeff grimaced. “I’m sorry we’re having to move again so soon, but I’m hoping this will be the last relocation for a while.” He shrugged. “But that’s the army for you, no sooner we get settled somewhere than it’s off to another Army Base in another State.”

“It’s the kids I feel sorry for. They always seem to be starting a new school.”

“Don’t worry about them. It makes them resilient, buids backbone.”

“Oh, Jeff.” His wife sighed, “Typical military man.”

The next day was the day of their relocation. Mary was up early, farewelling the kids for their last day at school. “When you get back, the house should be all packed up, and don’t forget we’re going to stay tonight at a hotel.” Mary attempted to make the move sound exciting. She kissed the kids. “Have a great day. We can have pizza tonight and anything you want for breakfast at the hotel in the morning.” The kids still appeared dejected. “Don’t be too sad. Think of it as going on another adventure.” With each move she needed to convince her children that moving Interstate wasn’t all bad.

Ten-year- old, Lila, frowned. “I hope they don’t lose my stuff, like last time.”

“I’ll make sure yours and Billy’s are marked ‘IMPORTANT.’ “

An hour later two men, Les, and Stan, whom Jeff thought was a little too old in the tooth for this type of job, arrived.

“Where’s the rest of the team?” Jeff wanted to know.

“It’s Covid, mate. The staff are dropping like flies at the moment.”

“So, it’s just the two of you?”

“‘Fraid so, Guv, we’re filling in for The Moving Men.” Stan replied.

“What’s your firm called?” Jeff peered through the window at the removal van outside.

“SwiftShift Movers,’ guv.”

“Never heard of them. Been in business long?”

“Only recently. Me and my brother started up together last year.” Stan gave a phlemy cough. “Covid’s been quite good for us actually.”

Jeff knew two men wouldn’t shift all their stuff in the allotted time. “Ok, we’ll carry on packing the boxes, you guys just concentrate on taking care of moving the furniture and dismantling the beds.

“Okay, mate.” Stan looked around at the chaos. We should have no problems shifting this lot, Les, although we might need an extra pair of hands with that piano.”
The old piano had been left to Jeff when his father died last year. The children were learning to play. Listening to them fumble through the scales, reminded him of the hours he and his sister used to practice. His dad had been quite the pianist and Jeff intended taking good care of the instrument, even though with the frequent moves he’d discovered moving pianos was never easy.

“Yes, I suppose I could help you with that, later.” Jeff agreed although he was unimpressed.

“Any chance of a cuppa, missus, before we make a start?” Les asked Mary.

“How about you get the big stuff into the van, then I’ll make us all some coffee? She coaxed.

“Righto, where’s Jeff gone? We’ll need him to help shift this piano in a bit.”

“Jeff’s helping with the packing you were supposed to do.” Mary snapped. “He’ll help you with the piano in an hour or so.”

Les looked at Stan, then at the piano. “Alright, we’ll load this later. How hard can it be? It's just a giant wooden box with strings, right?


Stan and Les stood hands on hips. “So, how are we going to tackle this beast?” Stan wondered.

“It’s got wheels, mate, but they’re a bit rusty.”

“Mmm. I think we’ll need another cup of tea, Missus!” Stan shouted.

“I’m too busy, for God’s sake.” Mary shouted from one of the kid’s bedrooms. It’s almost midday. At this rate, we’ll still be here at midnight.”

Stan sighed. “Did this piano come in to the house through that door?” He asked Jeff.

“Of course it did!” Jeff replied, before murmuring under his breath, “The last removal guys were obviously professional.”

Les gave him a sideways glance and pretended he hadn’t heard the last bit of the sentence. “Jeff, mate, you’re a fit young man, being in the army, I mean. Can you get your hands under and lift that end, so we can slide the trolley under?”

Jeff eyed up the situation. “If we can just get the piano from off the rug, it should be easy enough to wheel it out of the door.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Les, agreed with the plan. “But It just needs lifting off the rug first, those little wheels seem to be seized up.”


“Bloody hell! My fingers, they’re stuck! lift it up quick!” Jeff squealed.

“I think we need a towel, Missus,” Les shouted, as blood soaked on to the carpet.

“Oh, God!” Mary exclaimed when she saw her husband lying on the floor, his arm stretched out. One finger on his right hand missing.

“What did you do to him?” She screamed at the two men standing helplessly by the piano, which was stuck halfway out of the front door. “Get on with the bloody job. There should have been at least three or four men for this job,” Mary turned to her husband. “Come on, Darling, as soon as I find your finger, I’ll get you to the hospital.” She patted Jeff’s face, gently.


A week later, Jeff, Mary and the children all stood looking lost in their empty, Sydney house.

“I loved that piano,” Jeff mused; his right hand still in a sling..

“Let’s try to look on the bright side, darling. It would have been difficult for you to play now you’ve lost your index finger.”

“Is all our stuff gone forever, Mummy?” Six-year-old, Billy, asked.

“I’m afraid so, sweetheart.” Mary sighed.

Jeff gave a wry laugh. “Can you believe we even helped those idiots steal all our belongings?”

“How were we to know the real removalists had canceled the job because of Covid?”

“The police reckoned they were just a pair of opportunists listening in on a two-way radio.”

“Yeah, I know. But they didn’t look that smart, did they?”

“Stan and Les, hey? SwiftShift Movers. We should have known.”