Scrap CH THREE part 10

Scrap CH THREE part 10
The sun is creeping above the low-lying mist on the marshes as Frank bowls along the Sheppey Way towards the docks. There is very little traffic about at 4am so he is drawn to the 7cwt van weaving towards him on the wrong side of the road. It looks as if the front offside tyre has blown and the driver is grimacing as he hauls on the steering wheel in a desperate attempt to keep the vehicle on the road. As his brakes lock on the van spins a full 360degrees, rocks sideways and slides into the ditch right in front of Frank’s, by now stationary lorry. He jumps from the cab and races to the scene, where he sees a stunned Hedrick Mortensen fighting to free himself from the wreckage.
The driver’s door is bashed in but apart from some major dents there appears to be little other damage, with no windows broken and all the wheels still in their usual places. Frank fetches a tyre lever from his cab and manages to prise open the door. He helps the driver out and they survey the damage. ‘You look a bit shaky there pal,’ says Frank, ‘you’d better sit down for a bit.’ Hedrick drops onto the grass and rubs his head, which has been bumped in the accident. ‘I’ll have to get it out of there before anyone sees it,’ he says with a tone of desperation in his voice, ‘my boss will kill me if I don’t get to his place before nine.’ Franks scratches his head in thought as he assesses the best way to extricate the van, deciding that he could probably drag it back onto the road with the tractor unit. ‘Have you got any rope?’ He asks, ‘I can try and tow you out if we can find anything strong enough. I don’t carry ropes on this thing.’ Hedrick stands unsteadily and rubs his head some more, trying to gather his thoughts. ‘I think there’s one in the back,’ he says.
They manage to get the back door open enough to reach in and take hold of a tatty looking length of hessian rope. ‘It may be strong enough;’ says Frank, giving it a try for luck, ‘let’s hope it does the job.’ He winds down the legs on the trailer, unhitches the unit and attaches the rope, tying the other end to the back axle of the van. After some coaxing Hedrick is able to steer the vehicle as it is dragged back onto its wheels. The two men go round pulling out lumps of turf from the wheel arches and straighten up the front wing enough to clear the wheel. Frank helps fit the rather bald spare and the grateful driver hands him a ten pound note for his trouble. ‘Thanks,’ says Frank, pushing the note into his pocket, ‘you want to get that head looked at pretty soon: it’s come up like a boiled egg on your forehead.’
Hedrick Mortensen has no time to worry about his injuries; he is just thankful that Frank has got him out of a very dodgy situation and is eager to get on his way. Still somewhat wobbly on his legs he eases himself behind the wheel and continues his journey.
Scotty arrives on the scene and stops ahead of his pal. ‘What was all that about?’ He asks as he helps re-attach the unit, wind up the trailer wheels and refit the lines. ‘It looked like one of Merck’s men and a load of contraband to me.’ Frank frowns, embarrassed to have aided a drug runner, but he couldn’t just leave the man lying in the ditch, could he? ‘Race you to the docks,’ laughs Scotty as he scampers up the road and into his cab. Frank takes his time: it doesn’t hurt to let his friend win once in a while.
Ken Chapman is waiting for them at the docks, which probably means trouble. The drivers park up in the queue and walk over to his van. Ken winds down the window and hands each of them a sheet of paper. ‘You’ll be collecting strawberries today lads,’ he smiles, ‘straight off the fields so don’t forget to take some cream with you.’ The pals look at the farm address and grin at each other, remembering what happened last year. ‘What time do they want us there?’ Asks Scotty as he looks at his watch. ‘Not ‘til four o’clock, so you can get a good kip today then it’s straight up to the Garden for both of you. You’d better park up at the yard and I’ll get your tanks topped up for you. And don’t forget to bring some home for me, okay?’
Strawberry time is one of Fat Frank’s favourite weeks of the year and he always makes himself sick on the sweet juicy fruit still warm from the sunny Kentish fields. Cherries are also eagerly awaited and it is a treat to be carrying something good to eat. There is always a rush to get the lorries unloaded as soon as the first of the fruits appear, with a premium paid for the first loads of the season.
The two men have had a proper sleep for once and arrive refreshed at the farm where a stack of trays full of punnets of red berries awaits. They are loaded with great care so as not to damage them. They fold lengths of cardboard at the corners of the loads to prevent the ropes digging in and causing damage. Both men have filched several punnets and concealed them in their cabs to be eaten on the journey. They won’t be unloading on their own tonight as the fruit is reverentially handled by the men at each stand and sold before it touches the ground. By 3am there are vans from all over London arriving eager to get hold of the precious bounty and thousands of pounds in cash exchanges hands, meaning bonuses for everyone. The distinctive perfume fills the air, overpowering even the smell of diesel fumes, and every hand is stained by the juice, every mouth smeared red.
Scotty has secured a whole tray of the fruit, eager to treat his family. He has given instructions for cream and ice cream to be in stock when he gets home and is looking forward to his unusual breakfast. Frank, of course, has managed to secrete five trays in various places in and around the cab. He drops them off at the caravanette before returning to the yard with two punnets for the boss. Ken is still in bed so he leaves them in the porch. Scotty can never understand why his pal always manages to get more than anybody else without anyone noticing, but as Frank points out, there is such a flurry of activity surrounding the first crop arrival that he could get away with even more if he had the room.
Mr Lee is delighted with his delivery fresh from the market and Frank’s credit will last for a good few weeks at his favourite Chinese restaurant. Sometimes life is very pleasant.