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Authors: Danny Gillan

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But, slip of the tongue or not, that’s what she’d said, and I needed her to think about that. Then I needed her to apologise and tell me everything was going to be okay and she had taken care of things with Ingo and was now ready to declare her love for me to the world. So, nothing major.

I unlocked the door at eleven to discover a scrawny teenager in a white tracksuit, brandishing a crumpled piece of paper in his hand and a look of malice-laced nervousness on his face.

‘Thank fuck, man,’ he said. ‘I’ve been ringing the bell for ages.’

‘We don’t have a bell.’

‘What’s that then?’ He pointed at the doorframe.

‘The dimmer switch for the lantern at the top of the stairs. It says
light
underneath it.’

‘Well
ah
didn’t
fuckin
’ know that, did ah?’

‘Okay. Sorry, who are you?’

‘Jed. Jobcentre sent me.’ He handed over the paper, which had the
Jobcentre Plus
logo at the top and confirmed that James Patterson was due to start a two-week trial as Kitchen Porter. I took the chance that Jed was James Patterson, and led him inside.

‘Abe,’ I shouted. ‘Your KP’s here.’

Abe emerged from the kitchen, a large carving knife in his hand. He looked the defiantly bewildered Jed over in silence for a couple of seconds, then said: ‘Right wee-man, get your arse in here and we’ll see if you’re any use.’

‘Less of the wee-man, pal,’ Jed said, slouching towards Abe.

‘Listen,
wee-man
. I’ll call you whatever the fuck I like, understand?’

‘Aye, we’ll
fuckin
’ see about that.’ Jed followed Abe through the swing door. They’d only just met and had already laid the groundwork for the traditional Chef/KP relationship. I reckoned they’d get on great.

I returned the keys to their home beside the till and went through to the office. ‘That’s us open,’ I said to Kate, who was hunched over the small desk.

‘Okay, thanks,’ she said. ‘No sign of Sammy, yet?’ She sounded nervous.

‘Not so far.’

‘Okay. Cheers, honey.’ Now she sounded relieved. The concept of anyone being scared of Sammy was so alien that I almost laughed. He had high standards and made sure you did your job, don’t get me wrong, but he was never a prick about it.

The place didn’t get more than half-full over lunch and I didn’t need to ask Kate for help at any point. I was by now master of all I purveyed, and could probably have operated the till blindfolded. A greenfly in a side salad and two forgotten lattes was the extent of the complaints, so insignificant I barely noticed as I removed the offending items from the bills.

I was used to doing Abe’s dishes after service, and it came as a shock to realise I would have nothing to do between three and six (five, if we got some office drinkers in), bar make the odd coffee.

On any previous afternoon I would have luxuriated in the time this gave me to think nice thoughts about my future with Paula. Today, I panicked about the time this gave me to think horrible thoughts about my potential lack of a future with Paula.

 
What if that was it? What if she didn’t get in touch, didn’t think about what she’d said and decide she’d been in the wrong? What if I was just being a twat and she hadn’t been in the wrong at all? What if she was so pissed-off, she refused to call? Should I call her?

I was relatively sure I’d been right to walk away the day before, but this was
me
I was talking about. It wouldn’t be a shock for me to have got it all pear-shaped. I was a wanker, after all.

But then, if I
was
a wanker, at least under the terms outlined by her father, that meant I was oblivious to my strengths, not my weaknesses. I felt confident that being the type of guy someone would be ashamed of being seen in public with would be categorised as a weakness, not a strength, so maybe I had got it wrong. Or maybe I wasn’t a wanker, maybe I was actually an idiot.

I was certainly confused, I knew that much.

As the clock ticked past four and the only sounds to be heard in The Basement were Abe and Jed swearing at each other, I continued to ponder.

I had to remember this wasn’t a normal, everyday woman; this was Paula Fraser I was talking about. This woman attracted devoted, loyal friends and admirers like the rest of us attract unpaid Council Tax demands. No matter where she moved, no matter what country she called home, she collected an army of them and kept them with her always, only ever adding to their number as she made her way through life.

Maybe, with someone like Paula, I could be both a wanker and an embarrassment. True, this could make her a pretty shallow cow, but she was probably one of the few people on Earth who could pull that off and still be in the right.

Now I was
totally
confused. Should I be the one to apologise? I still didn’t think I was in the wrong necessarily, but was starting to wonder if, despite this fact, I should make the next move if I wanted to try and salvage anything. But, if I did, would I be basically admitting to the world I was an idiot? I didn’t want to be an idiot, I wanted to be wanker.

Jesus, this whole love business was hard. It’s possible I should have realised that before I was thirty-three but, in my defence, I’d had Paula Fraser in my brain for fourteen years. I could hardly be blamed for that, could I?

‘All right, Coop?’

I turned to see Terry and Ronni at the bar. ‘Hi guys. It’s not five already is it?’

‘Nah, we sneaked away half an hour early,’ Ronni said.

‘I take it Patrick’s not in today.’

‘He got called upstairs at three. Looked like he was shitting himself,’ Terry said.

‘And he never came back down?’ Had I still worked at Combined Utilities, this would have been gossip of the highest order. As it was, it intrigued me enough that I momentarily forgot about being depressed as fuck.

‘Nope,’ Terry said. ‘I called up at four pretending I was looking for him and they said he’d left for the day.’

‘Wow,’ I said. ‘What do you think’s happened?’

‘Pour me a drink and I’ll tell you some lies,’ Terry said.


Love on the Rocks
, Neil Diamond, nice one,’ I said. ‘What you having?’

‘Well spotted,’ Terry said. ‘Pint for me. Ron?’

As Ronni ordered a blueberry
Breezer
, I couldn’t help but notice Terry had abbreviated her already abbreviated name even further. Not that I’m an authority on such things, but this suggested to me that their relationship was developing nicely.

‘So, what?’ I said once I’d sorted their drinks out.

‘I reckon he’s on the way out,’ Terry said. ‘There’s a rumour going around that the whole department’s performance is in the shit house, and he’s carrying the can.’

‘Yeah,’ Ronni said with a giggle. ‘He’s buggered.’

‘Shame,’ I said, with no sympathy at all. ‘How come it’s all gone so wrong? When I was there we were wiping our arses with the targets.’


Dunno
,’ Terry said. ‘It’s funny as fuck but, eh?’

‘Yeah,’ I agreed. ‘Your life’s not going to get any easier, though.’

‘How
d’you
mean?’

‘If you’re missing targets whoever they replace him with is going to kick your
bahookies
for you.’

Terry stopped smiling. ‘Shit, I hadn’t thought of that.’

‘Maybe you should go for his job,’ I said.

‘Yeah, Terry,’ Ronni said. ‘With his salary we could afford a flat no bother.’

I raised my eyebrows. ‘Well, you know,’ Terry spluttered. ‘I’ve only been promoted a couple of months, and I’m not qualified.’

‘You’ve got the experience in the department,’ I said. ‘I’m sure they’d put you through
Arsehole
College
on day release.’

Terry scowled. ‘Both you and the floor back there look quite clean. It’d be a shame if you were suddenly drenched in lager.’

I raised my hands in surrender. ‘I’m just saying. You’re next in line.’

‘Yeah,’ Ronni said. ‘You’re Deputy Department Head.’ Ah,
that’s
what my job title was at CU. I could never remember, for some reason.

‘Anyway, what’s this about you two getting a flat?’ I asked, moving the subject on from one Terry clearly didn’t want to talk about to another one he clearly didn’t want to talk about.

‘No, we were just talking,’ Terry said, a certain tone in his voice. It may have been a tone of desperation, it may have been fear or possibly even terror; it may also have been
shut the fuck up Jim before I kill you
. I couldn’t be sure.

‘We’ve been checking on-line, but they’re all too expensive,’ Ronni said.

‘Yeah, I know,’ I said, making a point out of friendship not to smile too much at Terry’s obvious discomfort.

‘Where was it you used to live again?’ Ronni asked me. ‘You sold yours pretty cheaply, didn’t you?’

Terry had no qualms about laughing at this, the bastard. ‘Yeah, so you did, Jim. What was it you got, ninety-grand? So far we haven’t seen anything with an inside toilet going for as little as that.’

‘Well, you know. The market moves pretty quickly.’

‘Plus, some people are idiots and take the first offer they get,’ Terry pointed out.

‘Cheers, mate.’

‘Aw, you never know, Terry. We might be lucky and find an idiot.’ Ronni didn’t seem to realise she’d insulted me; she was too busy being sweet.

‘I don’t know, Ron,’ Terry said. ‘He’s a pretty unique idiot.’

Ronni looked at me. ‘No he’s not,’ she said. Was that a compliment? All this wanker and idiot stuff was messing my head up.

‘Why don’t you move into Terry’s place?’ I asked.

‘Are you joking? Have you seen the state it’s in? Besides, he’s only renting. We want to buy.’

I nodded. ‘More permanent that way.’

‘Exactly,’ Ronni said as Terry wilted.

When Ronni went to the
ladies
a few minutes later I caught Terry’s eye. ‘Are you sure about this? It’s awful quick.’

‘Look who’s talking. At least we’re not naming our babies.’

‘Yeah well, that might have been a bit premature after all.’

‘I
thought
you sounded morbid on the phone yesterday. What’s happened?’

‘I think I might have chucked Paula by mistake.’

‘What? What did you do?’ Terry leaned forward over the bar.

‘I’m not sure,’ I said. ‘We had a wee fight in The Brooklyn, then I sort of walked out on her.’

‘Dramatically?’

‘Fairly,’ I said. ‘I don’t know if I’m meant to phone her or what.’

‘What was the fight about?’

‘She cracked up because we ran into Kate,’ I nodded towards the closed office door. ‘Then she basically said she was ashamed to be seen with me.’

‘Seriously?’ Terry said, eyes wide.

‘I think so.’

‘You don’t know?’

‘No, I’m pretty sure that’s what she said. Now I don’t know what to do. What if I’ve fucked it up for good?’

BOOK: Scratch
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