The Cabbie. Part four.

[Kitosdad]

During the years that followed I ran my cab as often as I could, and I made a comfortable living.
My Father and I had had a close bond, and I was devastated when he suddenly died from an heart attack one evening.
I found myself working less and drinking more. My life was going nowhere and I knew deep down that I had to pull myself out of this downward spiral.

I returned to cabbying full-time and eased back on the drinking.
Once again Lady Luck stepped in to save me from ruining my life. It came about like this:-

One of my regular fares was a Musical Director from a local radio station, and one night I was entertaining him on our long drive to his home, with a few quips and jokes.
He was highly amused and asked if I would be prepared to attend an interview for a slot which was soon to be become vacant on a late-night talk show.
I thought that he was joking, but it turned out he was deadly serious, so with much nervousness I turned up at the studio the following week at the appointed time.

The audition was a traumatic event for me, and I could barely remember what I actually said, but apparently he was pleased and offered my a six-months contract.
I was amazed that my life could be turned around so quickly, but without further ado I went on the air the following night.

This was a midnight airing, with not a great audience, but within weeks it had been noted that the listening figures had increased dramatically, and at the end of my contract the network offered me a better time-slot, and a three year contract.
I was overjoyed at my new-found role and even more so as I began to see my name being mentioned in more and more newspapers. I was becoming quite a celebrity!

As my three year contact was nearing its end I was approached by a London network who offered me a fantastic contract and salary. It was with deep regret that I left Radio Newcastle and relocated to London.

I was really enjoying my life. Here I was, a radio star, and completely free of the booze, but the lure of Newcastle and my old haunts had not deserted me, and after a couple of years in London I decided that I needed a holiday and revisited Newcastle.

As I walked from the railway station I was undecided just where to go first.
I thought about visiting my old friends who were now running my taxi business, but then I had a thought. Should I hire a limousine, or at least a big-flashy car?
But I decided to just grab a taxi, for that's how I'd gotten this far.

I sat in the back of the taxi and the driver asked, " Where to Mate?"

I smiled to myself and softly replied, "32 Hutton Avenue please."

The Cabbie. The conclusion.

The Cabbie. Part one.
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