Fresh (14 page)

No bad.

We’ve no saw ye for a while. Gave it up have ye?

Sean kept walking with the momentum of Maggie.

Aye. It’s a mug’s game.

The old man called after them.

Do what she says son.

They moved up the street before she said anything.

See? That’s what happens. Ye don’t want to end uplike that do ye?

He focused on the end of the road.

No, do Ah fuck.

As they got closer to the school, a bell sounded. There was a Sunday-morning silence before the doors burst open and children streamed along paths like chickens through the Junction. The children were tired after a day being processed. A hard day that started when they
were picked up by the ankles and given a good shake to make sure anything in their pockets fell out. Sometimes they were shook so hard, bits of their bodies fell off. They landed on the pile of catapults and loose change that gathered underneath them. When the pile got large and smelly, some guy appeared. He was an old guy too weak for the shaking. He swept all the droppings up. They were taken away by the council and ended up on a landfill site being picked over by crows.

The upside-down children are pulled through the school by a mechanical line. Some struggle and swear and spit on anyone who comes close. Some cry and hold bloody hands to their mouths. Some are already docile. Some even smile. There’s no time to classify them though. Not in St Roch’s. A computer pings them tumbling from the line onto a conveyor belt that travels through the basement. Tough arms grab them and pack them into individual steel cages. The stifled children are wheeled from the basement into an elevator. For a moment there is darkness until the door opens onto a long corridor with a black door at the end. Inside this room lives the Cheek Extractor. He wears a white suit and a dentist’s smile. When a child arrives he holds up a syringe and says this may be uncomfortable. Before the day is out, the sparkle in the child’s eyes has been mined and packed in a polystyrene box. It is now ready for shipment to a Californian plastic surgeon.

The smell of bubble gum and cheap perfume brought Sean back to the real world. He and Maggie moved to a pillar at the side of the gate where they wouldn’t have
to struggle against the flow of children. The odd youngster would say something to Maggie. Sean thought they looked familiar but he wasnay sure if it was them he was recognising or their mums and dads. He felt Maggie tighten beside him.

There she is.

Donna appeared with her pal. Sean pointed at their interlocked arms.

What’s goin on here then?

Donna’s pal giggled. Sean winked at her.

Alright hen?

She nodded and looked at the floor. Donna frowned.

What ye doin here?

Can Ah no come and pick up my wee lassie from the school?

Donna flicked her head at her dad and turned to her mum.

Are we goin to the market then?

Maggie nodded. Donna put on begging voice.

Can my pal come?

Sean looked at the lassie.

Ah was hopin to get my daughter to myself the day. Donna grabbed Maggie’s arms.

Mammy?

Maggie looked at Sean and back to Donna.

Ye’ll see her the night at the youth club.

Sean felt relieved.

Aye, and anyway, she’ll feel a bit left out if you’re gettin a new top.

The lassie looked at Sean and back to the floor.

Can Donna stay round ours the night?

Donna spoke to her mum.

Aye can Ah?

Maggie looked at Sean.

What d’ye think?

Sean thought about it for a second.

Are ye goin straight home after the youth club?

Aye.

Well mind and no let me down.

They spoke at the same time.

We willnay.

And make sure ye stay the gether. There’s some funny guys goin about at that time.

Donna tutted again.

What, ten o’clock? It’s no that late.

Listen hen, d’ye want to stay out the night or what? Donna looked sulky but she nodded.

Aye.

Well then do as yer telt.

The lassie spoke.

Ah’ll make sure she’s alright Donna’s da.

Ah’m sure ye will hen.

He turned to Donna.

Right, c’mon you if ye want to get to the OK Corral. Donna’s pal looked at Sean.

What d’ye call it that for?

Coz when Ah was a boy ye never went to the market on yer own. Ye always had yer pals with ye just in case there was a fight.

Donna tutted and looked at Sean as if he was daft. She said cheerio to her pal and pushed in between her parents. The three of them walked up the hill towards
the market. Sean felt a bit bad about telling the lassie to go home because there was lots of children heading for the stalls. Maggie turned to Donna.

So how did ye get on the day?

Ah got a row off my English teacher.

What for?

Their voices merged with the noise of the street. Sean kept one eye on his family and the other on the world. They passed a guy selling tobacco. He looked the sort that sold other stuff when he got to know his clients. Perhaps a bit of hash, or in special circumstances he’d nip up the flats to score a bag of brown.

The OK Corral had a reputation for sheltering fugitives from the law. And Sean saw one. A little guy lurking in a corner scanning for victims. Sean recognised him from school. He was a fast wee fucker. If he got hold of a pensioner’s bag, there would be no chance of getting anything back. Within minutes the little bastard would be standing in an alleyway pocketing the cash and cards. If the old lady was lucky, the police would find a scattering of her sentimentals in a urine-stained corner.

The O’Grady family got closer to the market and Donna started to pull her mother’s arm towards a brightly coloured stall. It was decorated with purple and pink tops attached to the roof with coat-hangers. A woman with orange foundation and gold jewellery stood at the edge. She was smoking a fag. She was hunched with the cold and not enough clothes on for the weather. She saw the O’Gradys approaching and dropped her fag. Her frosty scowl disappeared into a lovely smile.

What can Ah do for ye?

We’re just havin a look.

Sean folded his arms as Maggie and Donna flicked through the clothes. He looked up and down the street. He met the eyes of the stall holder and gave her a nod and a white-lipped smile. The woman did the same back and started scraping hangers along a rail. Sean got his fag papers out and stuck one to his bottom lip. He pinched a fag’s worth of tobacco from his pouch and rolled one up. He had just lit it when Donna touched Maggie on the arm and pointed to the roof of the stall. Maggie turned to the woman.

Gie’s a look at one of them.

The woman reached up and ran her hands through the selection of vest tops hanging from the ceiling.

Ah’ll see what Ah’ve got for ye.

Donna’s eyes were glazing over.

Ah want somethin pink.

The woman selected a top and let Donna feel it. Sean felt himself edge away from the women. He kept finding his eyes straying towards the pub on the corner. The Fiveways was just up the road from here. He was choking for a pint.

It’s thirsty work this clothes shoppin, so it is.

Maggie looked up from Donna.

Don’t let us hold ye up.

Sean couldn’t believe it.

What, d’ye no mind?

We’d get on better if ye werenay under our feet.

Sean looked at Donna.

At least ye’ll be able to try a top on without my opinion. Eh hen?

Donna tutted and turned to the clothes. Maggie nodded to the post office.

We’ll see ye there in half an hour.

She showed him her back as she rejoined the female huddle.

The homesteader had a long look at the womenfolk before heading for the saloon. Dodging through the townspeople on the pavement, he figured his wages should be in the bank. He approached the barred windows and popped his card in the autoteller. A quick look up and down the road and he pulled a ten-bill out the hole and tucked it into his wallet. He couldn’t be too careful in these parts. Desperadoes were known to slice a man’s belly for the price of a shot of whisky. He touched his belt as he walked round the corner. A hundred years ago men like him had guns to defend themselves against the roughs. Nowadays a strong right hand holding an empty bottle was the decider in many a neighbourly dispute.

He faced the double doors of the Fiveways saloon and hitched his tracksuit bottoms onto his hips. Then he took a deep breath and pushed on through. He almost turned and walked straight back out when he spotted the outlaw Archie O’Grady. The bad man and his partner were plotting no-good deeds from a corner seat. Sean thought about sneaking out but Archie saw him through the fag smoke and held up a half-empty pint of lager.

Talk of the devil and there he is.

Sean walked over to the table.

Alright boys?

He looked at Archie.

Did ye get the money?

What money?

Sean nodded to Sammy.

Five hunner pound.

Sammy and Archie looked at each other. Sammy turned to Sean.

What the fuck are ye talkin about?

Sean turned to Archie.

He’s got yer money.

Sammy nudged Archie and they both laughed. Sammy pointed at Sean.

Got ye goin there son. Eh?

Aye nice one boys.

Archie lifted his pint.

D’ye want one?

Aye.

Archie pulled a tenner off a roll and dropped it on the table.

Get ours while yer up there.

Sean picked up the money and walked over to the bar. Sammy shouted after him.

And get me a packet of cheese and onion.

Sean looked at the barman.

Did ye hear that?

The barman nodded and got on with the pints. He grabbed the crisps out of a box on the floor and put them on the bar.

Four-ninety.

Sean gave him the tenner and picked up the drinks in a triangle. He took them over to the table and went back for the change and the crisps. When he got back
to the corner, Archie and Sammy were drinking their pints but the other one was nowhere to be seen.

Right, come on to fuck, where’s my bevvy?

Archie laughed and picked it up off a seat and put it on the table.

There ye go son. No sweat.

Yeez are a pair of comedians the day.

Sean had a sip on his pint and looked at the outlaws.

So what are yeez up to?

What are ye? The polis?

Just askin.

Sammy munched his crisps. Archie smoked a fag and leaned back in the corner. He looked at Sean but didn’t say anything. Sean picked up his pint and had another swallow. He got his tobacco out and rolled a fag. He lit up and blew some smoke up to the ceiling.

So are ye glad to be out?

Sammy laughed and some bits of crisps hit the table.

What d’ye think ya stupid cunt?

They sat in silence for a long time. Sean started to wish he’d stuck it out at the market. It couldn’t be worse than this. His head searched for something to say that wouldn’t get laughed at or picked on.

Seen Lizzie have ye?

Aye Ah saw her earlier.

Alright is she?

Archie swept his fags to the side with the back of his hand and leaned across the table.

So what are ye up to the night?

Ah was goin to come down here with Maggie.

Cannay see that happenin.

What are ye talkin about?

Ah might have a wee drivin job for ye later.

Sean flicked his fag ash onto the floor.

But Ah’m takin Maggie out.

Archie leaned further over the table. His forehead seemed to come down over his eyes.

Ye owe me wee man.

Ah paid all yer money back.

Archie held up his finger.

Aye but ye spent it.

Ah got it all back.

That doesnay matter. While Ah was in the jail, you were enjoyin yerself at my expense.

But Ah was doin ye a favour.

Archie looked at the window for a second. He exhaled a deep breath and turned back to Sean.

When ye were short of money, Ah gave ye a job did Ah no?

Sean nodded.

And when ye got into trouble with them bookies, who got ye out of it?

You.

And when ye were supposed to be watchin my cash, what were ye doin with it?

Sean never said anything.

So what are ye doin the night?

Sean nodded at Sammy.

How come he cannay do it?

Archie wrapped his hand round his pint glass.

Me and Sammy have got a bit of business to attend to.
Sammy laughed. Archie took a drink.

We’ve got some debts to pull in. Ye could take Sammy’s place if ye think ye’ve got the balls.

Sammy sniggered. Sean gulped so that he could speak like a man. He looked at a fag smouldering in the ashtray. Archie picked it out and crushed the last of the smoke out of it.

What’s it to be then wee man?

Sean tutted like Donna.

Alright.

Archie pushed the change from the last round over to Sean.

Good. Now that’s sorted, get another drink in.

Sean grabbed the money and stood up.

And Sean?

What?

Better get yerself a Coke. Don’t want ye gettin done for drunken drivin.

Sammy laughed.

Drunken drivin. That’s a good one.

Sean got the drinks and came back to the table. He passed a drink to Sammy, who got his fags out and gave the brothers one each.

Yer a good driver Sean. Pity we didnay have ye in the cockpit that night we went to Falkirk.

Archie pointed at Sammy.

Ow. Watch it.

No, but he is.

Archie slapped Sean on the shoulder.

Aye he is. But he’s my wee brother, so he’s bound to be good at something.

Sean smiled despite himself. He had a last swallow on the lager before he moved to the Coke.

So where’s the delivery?

Ah’ll tell ye later.

Ah’ll just do the one, alright?

Archie and Sammy looked at each other. Archie took a blast on his fag.

It isnay that simple wee man.

Can ye no get anybody else to do them?

Sammy laughed.

Oh aye. We could get loads of guys. But half the cunts would run to the police and the other half would disappear with the goods.