his mouth shut, neither he nor Geoff would want to work alongside Jim now.
The worst part was that Jim hadnât planned, or even wanted, to hit Barry. It burst out of nowhere. Everyone had seen him do it, just like the stupid ex-convict he was, and just when he thought things were getting better. Jim put his hands over his face and sighed. âOh God. You fucking idiot.â
Then the phone rang.
âHello?â
âIâve just done you a big fucking favour.â Barry, in a low voice, as if he was worried he might be overheard. âCarol wanted to call the fucking police. I told her not to be so daft.â
âRight. Thanks.â
âNothingâs broken, youâll be pleased to hear.â
âOh.â
â Oh . Is that all?â
âYeah. Thatâs all.â There was no point giving him an apology now.
âYouâre a miserable cunt.â
âWell, that makes two of us, then. Goodbye, Barry.â
âHold on, hold on.â
âWhat?â
âIâve thought about it. Mebbes youâre right. Not about her, like â sheâs a fucking slag â but yâknow, about rocking the boat and that.â
âI never said anything about rocking the boat. I just told you not to be a twat.â
âWell, Iâm saying about it now. So listen to me, you bastard. Iâm not going to tell him â yet â but Iâve got this one on you, right? So donât fuck me about anymore.â
âFuck you about?â
âWhat I mean, Jim, is that you need to remember who the fucking boss is around here, OK?â
âAnd thatâs you, is it?â
âYes, it fucking well is. Iâll see you on Monday.â Barry hung up.
â â 9
May 2001
Geoff sat in an armchair in his familyâs living room and stared into space. The carriage clock on the mantelpiece said it was eight thirty. Geoff was still in his pyjamas, and his tea was going cold.
Jim was in the kitchen polishing the menâs good shoes. Now and again he looked up through the doorway at Geoff, who hadnât moved for a while. Jim just concentrated on getting the shoes nice and shiny; right now, it seemed like the best way he could help. Not that any of them would thank him. They almost hadnât let him in the house, but Geoff insisted.
Eventually, Geoffâs brother came down and roughly patted Geoffâs shaven scalp. âCheer up, you fat fucker. Youâve done bloody well for yourself.â
âYeah,â Geoff said, and then he didnât say anything else.
Jim watched them for a few seconds, blinked, and went back to the polishing. Geoffâs brother walked into the kitchen and rummaged for something in the cupboard under the sink. He ignored Jim. Then he went back upstairs.
Jim finished the last shoe and called through to Geoff, âCome on, mate, letâs get a move on, eh?â
Geoff nodded slowly and stood up.
They went upstairs to the room Geoff used to share with his brother. Jim hadnât been in this room since they were teenagers. It still had the two single beds in it, although Geoff had moved out six months ago and got a place with Laura. Jim pointed with his foot at Geoffâs old bed. âIs there still a stash of Razzle under there?â
âDunno,â muttered Geoff.
Jim decided that there probably wasnât, and started to pull the plastic off the rented suits.
Geoff dressed slowly, fumbled with the buttons. Jim finished long before him and sat on one of the beds to wait. Eventually, Geoff turned and said, âLook all right?â
âAye, like a real groom.â
âGood.â Geoff paused. âIâm sorry youâre not my best man. Itâs justâ¦â
âThey wouldnât like it. I know. Iâm an ex-con.â
Geoff shook his head. âDonât say that. Itâs in the past.â He paused. âYouâre doing well.â
âThereâs a
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