Adam’s Clocks.

Each year that we both go to the race, I meet Ian for us to catch up with each other’s news. I arrive on the Friday and camp at the event HQ, spend Saturday and Sunday at the race and after another night in the tent travel back home on the Monday. Ian appears sometime on the Saturday and, after the race, pitches his tent next to mine, and we search for somewhere to have dinner. The following morning, we have a leisurely breakfast and as lunchtime approaches we go our separate ways.
 
Ian is a strange lad, an engineer until his accident; I’ve never asked but I believe it involved him on his bike and a car; again, there is a lot of guess work involved, but I think the compensation he received meant that he never had to work again while his injuries made it impossible. He seems to have made a full recovery and is a helpful and cheerful soul. He has many long term projects on the go, one of them involving a clock so, each year, on our way to breakfast, he pops in to chat to Adam about his progress.
 
I know nothing about Adam or whether his business is viable but: the yellow sign in the window quite clearly indicates that his wee shop is closed, while the bike with a flat front tyre and no back one carries a sign that quite clearly indicates that it is open – and its brakes don’t work; the clock in the window tells the correct time and is the only timepiece on display; and there should  be an apostrophe above the door, though precisely where depends on his standing within the local trading community.
 
Just how he earns an honest crust is beyond me.