Scrap CH THREE part 38

Scrap CH THREE part 38
Jason, Frank and Scotty are as excited as schoolboys as they arrive at the dealership to collect the new tractor units. Frank has not had a cigarette since his heart scare and the other two have waited until getting out of the car before lighting up but the aroma of Rothmans hits the man like a warm squeeze of the stomach and he yearns to take one for himself. ‘Now then mate, can’t have you keeling over on us on our first day,’ says Jason as he stands back, directing the smoke away from his friend. Frank takes a sherbet lemon from his pocket and sucks that instead but the comfort it gives does not fully compensate.
The salesman greets his customers heartily and makes a meal of the handover routine, showing them how everything works and pointing out all the little extras, such as the radio and night heater, something unheard of in British vehicles even in this age. The men are keen to get on their way and after half an hour of this they hurry things along and eventually follow Jason back to the yard where Bettina is waiting with a pot of coffee which she has brewed on the new filter machine. ‘Where are the chocolate biscuits then?’ Asks Frank, half-jokingly, as they take their seats at the ‘boardroom table’ which is actually an old dining table which arrived in one of the house clearance skips. A packet of Hobnobs is emptied onto a plate, which is soon cleared, and the new venture again toasted, this time without any alcohol.
Bettina waits for a lull in conversation before she asks if any of the men plan on doing any work today, which causes surprise all round. ‘We’ve had Hodges on the phone all morning begging us to get some of the steel reinforcing rods up to where they’re building the new Dartford Tunnel. ‘It’s not so well paid as the fruit and veg but it’s too late to get anything at the docks today so I said you’ll ring back when you get in.’ She leaves some papers on the table in front of Jason and returns to her work in the office. ‘Well we need to get some money coming in,’ says Frank, ‘so we may as well start now.’ Scotty and Jay agree and walk down to the yard where the rough old flat-bed trailers are parked up. ‘These will have to do for now,’ says Jay, ‘they’re good enough for hauling steel about.’ The other men hitch up the trailers, check that the lights and brakes work and set off for their first loads. Jason waves them off and turns his attention to other matters, watched from the window above by a satisfied young Bettina.
The rigs look rather incongruous lined up at the steel works waiting for the crane to load up the bundles; shiny new tractor units coupled with battered old trailers. They will get in three or four runs before the end of the day with any luck and although the money is less they will have the luxury of a night off to enjoy before returning to their usual routine. They follow each other back and forth delivering the steel then stop at the M2 Services on the way home for a cup of tea. ‘Blimey, we’re filthier than if we’d done a night’s work at the markets,’ observes Scotty as the two of them walk towards the transport café. They get their tea and a handful of chocolate biscuits, stretch out on the plastic covered benches and take their time over the break. A few drivers have stopped on their way up north and a tinge of jealousy hits Scotty as he remembers he will be spending the whole evening with Dawn and the kids. Frank, on the other hand, is looking forward to the novelty of a Monday off especially as he has just forked out for a new colour television and there is something worth watching tonight.
They return to the yard, unhitch the trailers and connect up the new Tilt ones ready for the morning. Jason is nowhere to be seen but Bettina is still in the office and gives a sly smile as she waves from the window. ‘Does she ever go home?’ Says Scotty, waving back, ‘or is there something going on with her and Jay?’ Frank shrugs his shoulders and says good luck to them if there is something going on and it’s nothing to do with him anyway but ever the gossip Scotty can’t wait to pass on the news to someone. It will be a useful ploy to side-track Dawn in the event of any unnecessary grief she may have lined up for him.
After a stop at the Happy Haddock for a large portion of fish and chips Frank settles down in front of the television to eat from the soggy paper parcel. The programme he had hoped to see has been replaced by a Panorama Special on the growing problem of the IRA so he switches over to Coronation Street, which he hasn’t watched since 1963 and is surprised that most of the characters are still there doing much the same as they were all those years ago. The food is washed down with a few cans of lager; he switches off the set before he falls asleep and has a soak in the bath, which wakes him up sufficiently to decide on a trip to the pub.
Scotty is delighted to see his pal on the doorstep and takes no persuading to escape for a few hours, despite Dawn’s protests. They settle on one of the slightly damp benches outside the Anchor, away from the fog of cigarette smoke and talk soon turns to the new venture. ‘Did you notice how slack they were at the delivery point?’ Asks Frank, ‘in the old days we would have scrawled a signature on the delivery note ourselves and taken the load straight to the scrap dealer. They must be losing money hand over fist because you can bet that someone has cottoned on to it.’ Scotty says that he noticed it too but he couldn’t bring himself to suggest such a thing now that they are responsible for the goods in transit. ‘It does feel a bit odd,’ he reflects, ‘but we’re going to have to change our ways old pal or the business will suffer. I can’t believe I actually said that!’ They laugh at the absurdity, finish their drinks and decide they had better call it a night. ‘There is one problem still on my mind though,’ says Frank as they make their way home, ‘what are we going to do for Rosa? I know people will say it’s none of our business but you know how I feel about her and I can’t bear to think of her with that bastard.’ Scotty says he doesn’t know what they can do but he will have a think about it.
Orla is in her daughter’s bad books for blabbing to Jason and the two have exchanged barely a word in almost a week but tonight the ice is broken when baby Jay is running a temperature and nothing seems to comfort him. ‘Here, let me take him,’ the infant is handed to his grandmother by an exasperated Rosa who is desperate for a few hours’ sleep as she has to take the load out by 2am at the latest. The older woman peels off the child’s hot sweaty clothes and bathes him in tepid water, pats him dry and wraps him loosely in a cool sheet. At last the crying ceases as the baby sucks noisily on a bottle of boiled cool water. ‘I only ever do what’s best for you,’ Orla says quietly as she lays the child in his cot and waits as he drifts off to sleep. ‘You ask any mother and they would not want to see their child being knocked about by an abusive spouse.’ Rosa climbs into bed and covers her ear with the blankets. ‘I know Ma,’ she concedes, ‘but I can handle that pig myself; I don’t need my brother or anyone else to fight my battles for me.’ Her mother kisses the top of her head, says no more and silently creeps back to her own room. She is going to interfere whether Rosa wants her to or not and when Danny gets back from where the hell he has sloped off to this time he will have a shock waiting for him.