Carriage Ride

A Victorian Parable

The lady steps into the carriage.

"Oak Wharf, please."

The driver, behind his top hat, gives the horses a lash. It is a quiet Sunday morning, hardly any carriages on the road.

"What a peaceful morning," thinks the lady in the wide-brimmed hat.

The carriage slowly pulls to a halt under the radiant sunshine. Seagulls circle overhead. The scent of salt air fills the lady's lungs. "Ah."

"That will be ten pound," says the driver, his face hidden by the shadow of his brim.

"Ten what?"

"Ten pound, madam."

"But that can't be possible. It was only ten minutes. There are no other carriages on the road. It is a Sunday."

"Ten pound, madam."

"I'm going to fetch my husband. He's inside."

The husband appears.

"What is this business all about?" he asks, face reddened.

"Ten pound," repeats the driver.

"That is an outrage. The going price is a shilling and sixpence."

"Ten pound."

"I'm going to get my wife's valise."

The husband places his smooth fingers on the handle of the valise in the back of the carriage.

"Don't touch that. My fare has not been paid."

The driver shoves the husband backward a few steps with both hands.

"I'm calling the constable!" cries the husband.

The constable comes.

"What is this business?" he asks.

"The ride is ten pound," reiterates the driver.

"That is an outrage," says the wife.

"Robbery," adds the husband. "Do you mean if I order a spot of tea in the café and they charge me ten pound, I must pay?"

The constable nods.

"Are you going to press charges for the assault, for when he shoved you?" asks the constable.

"Well, that depends on the fare," responds the husband.

"Are you negotiating a criminal charge, sir?" asks the constable.

The husband answers with a blank stare.

"You are under arrest, sir.

But pay the full fare first."

A story by Pemba Umoja