Scrap 45

SCRAP 45
Mr Lee is having a busy night, it being Saturday, but when he sees Frank waiting in the queue he greets him warmly and takes him through to his best table, much to the annoyance of a group of young men who have been waiting for half an hour at the front of the line.
The waiter hurriedly finishes dealing with another customer and rushes over to take care of Mr Lee’s favoured client. Frank orders two pints of bitter and says he will leave the menu to Mr Lee, as always. Mr Lee is flattered to be trusted with the task and instructs the kitchen staff to prepare their best dishes for his guests.
The beer goes down in one gulp, to be replaced by a bottle of Blue Nun, considered to be the height of sophistication at the moment. The men settle down to enjoy their meal as dishes arrive one after another, filling every inch of the table. Scotty enjoys a good feast almost as much as Frank and they set about the food as if they haven’t eaten all day.
The group of young men have been seated at the far end of the room but Frank can hear every word they are saying. He scowls in their direction and the volume goes down a few decibels as they stuff their faces with chicken Chow Mein and spring rolls.
‘So have you decided on what to spend all that dosh yet?’ asks Scotty. ‘I have, actually. I’ve paid six months advance rent on a furnished flat.’ Scotty almost chokes on his mouthful of chips. ‘What, you moving into proper accommodation? I don’t believe it.’ Frank gives a wry smile, ‘The caravan site is being redeveloped into one of those posh country clubs so all the old vans and huts have to go, and my lease runs out at the end of next week so I will be moving in to town.’
The group of young men are getting noisy again; one in particular seems to be the centre of attention. ‘I heard them dogs chewed her guts up and everything, fucking gruesome it was with blood and bits of body all over the house.’
Frank’s face reddens with anger and he strides up to the bragger. ‘Watch your mouth, boy,’ he warns, ‘that woman was a friend of mine and one of the kindest people you’d care to meet.’
The bragger is cowed by the big man and apologises for any offence. Frank returns to his table and swallows down a whole glass of wine, drains the bottle and asks for another. ‘Word gets around,’ says Scotty, ‘you can’t blame people talking. It’s not every day someone gets mauled to death by their own dogs.’
The louts have been drinking steadily since being seated and most of them are very drunk. The one with the biggest mouth asks for the bill, nodding suspiciously to the others as the waiter goes to fetch it. ‘Leg it!’ shouts the ringleader, and they sprint towards the exit. Frank puts out his foot just as the last of the gang is passing, sending him crashing to the floor. The others leave him to his fate, running off up the road laughing and swearing. Frank takes his victim by the scruff of the neck and leads him to Mr Lee’s office.
‘What we going to do with him, Mr Frank?’ The boy is struggling and cursing but tightly held in Frank’s powerful grip. ‘Looks like this one is paying for all his mates too,’ he laughs. ‘But I ain’t got no dough,’ squeals the miscreant, ‘how am I gonna pay when I ain’t got nuffing?’ Frank smiles at Mr Lee. ‘Oh I think we can help you find the money,’ he says, ‘turn out your pockets.’
The boy refuses, so Frank helps him off with his jacket, he and Mr Lee help him off with his trousers, and his shoes and socks, and his shirt, and his watch, and suggest that he brings back the money so he can retrieve his possessions, which surprisingly include a wallet and set of keys.
The boy is pushed out into the High Street in just his Y-Fronts, much to the amusement of passers-by, and his friends who are waiting out of sight of the restaurant. They drag him down the road and he returns a few minutes later with more than enough to pay the bill.
‘Don’t bother coming back,’ Frank advises, ‘Mr Lee can do without the likes of you.’ The boy grabs his things and runs away as fast as his skinny white legs can carry him. Mr Lee’s staff are in stitches laughing at the sight of the puny little creep getting his come-uppance and wish they had the power to do what Frank has done to everyone who runs off without paying.
Frank and Scotty polish off their banana fritters and custard, drink their Irish coffee and thank Mr Lee for his excellent hospitality. It’s turned out to be a good night after all.