Scrap CH TWO part 40

CH TWO 40
Ken is not happy that his son has been faffing about at some drama class all week instead of getting some proper work done, and he wastes no time voicing his ire at Scotty when he arrives to collect his wages. ‘Don’t have a go at me,’ Scotty says, ‘you can’t expect me to force your son to do something he doesn’t want to do; it’s not my place and I don’t think Pat would take too kindly to me shoving my oar in.’ His boss flings his wage packet across the desk, Scotty opens it and carefully checks the contents in front of the man. ‘If you’re looking for the bonus I promised you you’re out of luck,’ scowls Chapman, ‘that only applied if you took the boy for the week.’ Scotty pockets the packet and marches off without further comment, seething.
His first port of call is the betting shop, where he hands over £20 for his ridiculously risky bet on the National. His hand is trembling as the money disappears into the till and he hides the betting slip between two photographs of the children in his wallet, hoping that Dawn will not find out what he has done. Robbie does have an uncanny knack for picking winners but this is the biggest wager Scotty has ever made and he regrets it as soon as the money has gone. Thank goodness he has this HP repossession job with College tonight. With any luck Dawn will never find out. Come to think of it, what will he say if the bloody thing wins? How will he explain that away? No, of course it won’t win and Robbie will be too embarrassed to say a word.
To soften up his dearly beloved, Scotty stops off at the fish and chip shop and buys enough to feed his brood and his wonderful mother-in-law. He even gets the assistant to pop in a pickled egg for the old girl; that should do the trick.
The house is strangely quiet as Scotty arrives with his purchases but the aroma of fish and chips lures the occupants from their various lairs and soon the kitchen is full of chomping and paper rustling. For once the babies remain asleep and everyone is able to enjoy the feast.
‘Did you get our bets on?’ Asks Mavis between nibbles of her pickled egg, ‘I do enjoy a flutter on the big race.’ Scotty assures her that he has placed all their bets and is looking forward to watching the race. Robbie winks at his dad, who winks back, both gestures caught by the eagle eyed Dawn. ‘Did you pick up your wages?’ She asks, knowing full well that he must have done so in order to place the bets, just hinting strongly that she hasn’t yet had the housekeeping money off him. He counts out some notes and hands them over. They disappear into Dawn’s purse and she snaps it shut before burying it in the pocket of her apron.
Someone lets off an unfortunate one and Janet is quick to open the back door to clear the air. A chorus of croaking can be heard coming from the garden and Mavis grimaces as she says that there are tiny frogs hopping all over the place. ‘Well you wanted a garden pond,’ Scotty reminds her, ‘what did you expect?’ She says she didn’t expect it to end up looking like a stinking swamp full of slimy creatures and Scotty says he will clean it out when he has more time, which means probably never.
The children quickly make their escape after lunch, leaving Mavis to clear up after them. Scotty has fallen asleep in his usual spot by the fire after downing his third tin of Carlsberg Special Export lager. He developed a taste for it when he and Fat Frank were on the beer run last year. It is much stronger than the ale he has grown up on and he can’t drink anywhere near as much before feeling the effect.
Dawn is attending to Charlie and as usual his cries have woken his brother so Mavis has to lend a hand. ‘Have you got enough people coming for the clothes party on Monday?’ Asks Mavis as she skilfully deals with a soggy nappy and drops it into a bucket. Dawn reaches up to a notebook on the mantel shelf and hands it over. ‘It should be quite a crowd,’ she says, ‘Pat is bringing young Sally; she’s grown rather fond of the girl since the baby arrived. Poor little mite only weighed 4lbs 6oz and had to stay in an incubator for three weeks. She doesn’t have a clue how to handle a baby but Pat seems to have taken over; Sally has all but moved in with her above the launderette.’ Mavis finishes putting George back together; ‘no wonder Patrick hates going home,’ she smiles, ‘he always seems to be round here after school. Are he and Janet keen on each other?’ Dawn seems a little embarrassed at the suggestion, ‘I don’t think he’s interested in girls, if you get my meaning,’ she says. Mavis is shocked, ‘I had no idea,’ she whispers, although nobody else is there to hear, ‘does Ken know?’ Dawn shakes her head, ‘he’d go mad if he even suspected it,’ she replies, ‘so we don’t want word getting out, do we?’
Robbie is shaking his father’s arm; ‘wake up dad, it’s about to start,’ he shouts. Scotty gets to his feet and follows the boy into the living room where everyone is crowded before the blurred images being transmitted from Aintree race course. Tension rises as the race gets underway, with gasps of horror as various runners fall, some picking themselves from the mire and carrying on rider-less, others being caught and led away. John curses and leaves the room as ‘his’ horse falls, closely followed by Heather whose horse has been pulled up after stumbling through a melee of fallers. Scotty lights another cigarette, adding to the fug already produced by the two women’s Consulate tabs, his heart rate climbing ever higher as the final fence is cleared and the remaining mounts lumber up towards the finish post.
‘We’ve won dad, we’ve won,’ yelps Robbie, arms in the air, ‘Mine came fourth,’ shouts Stu, ‘does that mean I get anything?’ Scotty says he will get a quarter the odds and he’ll have to work out what that comes to but his head is buzzing as the announcer reminds everyone that Specify has come in at 28/1. He daren’t tell Dawn how much he laid out on the bet but finds it impossible to conceal his excitement. ‘The kids will all have new shoes on this one,’ he says proudly as he lands a big kiss on his wife’s face, ‘and you too my lovely.’
Before she can ask any awkward questions Scotty is off up the road with Robbie running to keep up. ‘See, I told you it would win,’ the boy puffs as he catches his dad by the hand. ‘Aye lad, you picked a good ‘un there, well done. You’ll get your share of the winnings, don’t you worry.’
The bookmaker’s shop is not very busy, the bookie himself having done much better than his customers as always, and Robbie waits outside as his dad goes to collect his winnings. ‘You did well on this one,’ the bookie frowns as he counts out a pile of ten pound notes, ‘you’ll be putting me out of business.’ Scotty scoops the loot into his wallet, ‘no danger of that,’ he smiles as he places the stash in his jacket, pats the pocket to make sure and almost skips out into the sunshine.
He’ll be celebrating at the Bay Club tonight, he thinks, then he remembers his bit of business with College and a cloud goes over the sun.