Scrap 80

SCRAP 80
‘You’re quiet this morning,’ observes Frank as he joins Scotty at the dockyard café. ‘Merck wants me to do another flower trip,’ says Scotty, in a low voice, ‘and he won’t take no for an answer. I’m beginning to wish I’d never got involved in this lark. One of the other lads was pulled up in Newhaven last week and they found half a ton of cannabis hidden in his load. Course he swore he knew nothing about it but they dragged him off to the nick all the same and Merck is denying all knowledge so I know what’ll happen if I get caught.’
They order breakfast and take their mugs of tea to a table at the back of the room. ‘I know you told me not to get involved but it’s easy money, or so I thought.’ The two of them sit thoughtfully, sipping their tea and smoking cigarettes. ‘There is one way you can get out of it,’ says Frank. Scotty is all ears, leaning forward to better hear the suggestion. ‘You could lose your passport.’ Scotty considers this for a moment then shakes his head. ‘He wouldn’t fall for that,’ he sighs, ‘anyway he would just say get another and you can get a one year passport at the post office.’
They fall silent as Ivy brings their food, smiling half-heartedly as she places it on the table and walks back to her counter. Scotty prods at his food with his fork as Frank gets stuck in to his fry-up, loading two slices of buttered bread with sausage and bacon and stuffing a large bite into his mouth. Scotty picks at his food without enthusiasm, a look of dread on his face. ‘I gotta get out of this somehow. Dawn has just announced she is up the duff again. That’s all we need, another mouth to feed on my wages. If I can get away with doing just one more trip we’ll have enough to tide us over until something else turns up but after all that money we spent on holiday we’re down to our last few quid. She’s only got the family allowance to keep her going ‘til next Monday.’
As always, Scotty is there to remind Frank that there’s always someone worse off than him. At least he only has himself to worry about. ‘Tell you what: if you get stuck maybe I can help you out.’ Scotty shakes his head. ‘No, I would never be able to pay you back. I’ll sort it out somehow.’ Frank insists, saying that he didn’t mean lending him money. ‘The landlady wants me out in three weeks so if I get a caravan maybe I could pay you to let me park it in your garden for a few weeks. It’ll give me somewhere to get my head down and give you a bit more coming in every week.’
Scotty doesn’t like to hurt his pal’s feelings but he can imagine what Dawn will say if he suggests it. He’s not in any position to reject the idea out of hand so he says he will have a word with her.
‘So where are you off tonight then?’ asks Frank. ‘Well that’s what I’m saying,’ moans Scotty, ‘Merck wants me to pick up the rig in Holland and bring it back on the morning ferry. This load’s going to Manchester with one of the other blokes.’ Frank finishes the last of his breakfast and pushes his plate to one side. ‘Rather you than me, mate,’ he says, ‘let me know how it goes.’ Scotty has only managed half his food, leaving the rest congealing on the now cold plate. They return the empties to Ivy at the counter and go their separate ways.
Frank can’t help being concerned for his friend, as he trails his load of oranges round the London markets, unloading fifty crates here, a hundred crates there. He is far more content making the odd fifty notes for his extra pallet loads than getting a thousand for risking five years in prison.