Scrap

SCRAP 5
The men finish their work as a grey 15cwt van pulls alongside. A ginger-haired man pops his head out the window. ‘How did it go?’ he asks cheerfully. Frank gives him a contemptuous glare. ‘We did alright. No thanks to you.’

Ginger’s freckled face turns red. ‘Well you gave us the fright of our lives chopping through the cable like that. That was one heck of a shower of sparks. We thought you was a goner.’
‘So you fucked off and left us to it,’ spits Scotty, ‘Thanks a lot.’ Ginger squirms. ‘Thought you’d be right behind us,’ he moans. ‘Never dreamed you’d go ahead with it after that.’
Frank steps up to the van, his face calm. ‘Well we know who we can rely on in future, don’t we?’ Scotty adds: ‘And it isn’t you.’
‘Oh come on,’ begs Ginger, as the men walk away, ‘No hard feelings lads. Tell you what, I’ll buy you both breakfast.’
‘No thanks,’ says Frank, over his shoulder, ‘we already ate. You can buy us a cup of tea though.’ Ginger scrambles from the van and scurries after them into the café. He buys tea and a handful of chocolate biscuits and they seat themselves on the cold, plastic and dirt covered chairs in a corner away from prying ears.
‘Oh look,’ says Frank, as Ginger picks up his change from the tray, ‘He’s got one of those faulty 50p coins.’ Scotty looks surprised but goes along with the theme. ‘So he has.’
Ginger turns the coin in his hand, inspecting the design. ‘What do you mean?’ he asks suspiciously. ‘Look,’ says Frank, ‘It’s got one too many hands on it.’ Scotty takes a closer look. ‘So it has,’ he agrees. Frank warms to the story. ‘I read about it in the Sun. There’s a collector in London who’s paying £2 each for them.
Scotty says ‘Yeah, I remember reading about that now. Tell you what; I’ll give you a quid for it.’
Ginger peers excitedly at the coin. ‘You bloody won’t,’ he scoffs, ‘if there’s any profit to be made on this it’s mine.’ Frank finishes his fourth chocolate biscuit and Scotty takes the last one. Ginger realises they have eaten all of them. ‘Greedy bastards.’ Yes, thinks Frank. Takes one to know one.

Scotty changes the subject. ‘You should have seen us this morning. We piled so much weight in that old van the back axle got stuck in the mud. Frank had to rip some planks from the drum to lever us out.’ Ginger is embarrassed but says nothing. ‘Nearly pulled my arms out of their sockets,’ says Frank. ‘You shouldn’t have put so much in the van,’ says Ginger. ‘I wouldn’t have had to you if you hadn’t fucked off and left us.’ Ginger is looking very uncomfortable. ‘Sorry mate. I lost my bottle.’ Frank taps his bulging top pocket. ‘Lost your share of the booty too.’ He crams the last of the biscuit into his mouth. ‘Time we were going,’ he says to Scotty, ‘See you around, Ginger.’
Ginger bids them goodbye. ‘Thanks for that tip about the coins.’ Frank smiles. ‘You’re welcome.’

The two pals drive off in Frank’s van. ‘What was all that about?’ Asks Scotty. Frank grins, ‘Well you know what a greedy git Ginger is. He’ll be buying up all the 50p coins with hands on and end up looking a right prat when he finds out it’s only one of my little jokes.’
Scotty finds this highly amusing. ‘Serves him right.’
They pull up outside Scotty’s house. ‘Coming in for a cuppa?’ Frank looks at his watch. ‘Better not. I need a few hours kip after all the excitement. By the way,’ he reaches into his top pocket for the wad of notes and peels off£100. ‘Here’s your share.’
Scotty gratefully accepts the money. ‘Thanks mate. I really need a bit extra this week.’ Frank grins, ‘Well that should cheer your Dawn up a bit.’ Scotty frowns. ‘It needs something to put a smile back on her face. She’s been in a right strop since she found that lipstick on my shirt.’
‘What lipstick?’ asks Frank, innocently. Scotty shakes his head. ‘I don’t have a clue how it got there. I swear I haven’t been up to anything.’ Frank gives him a sympathetic look, ‘Well you know what Dawn is like. She’s always been the jealous type.’
Just then the door opens on Scotty’s house and a small woman with bleach-blonde hair strides up the path. ‘You coming in or are you gonna sit in that van all day?’ She scowls. Scotty scrambles out the van as Frank casually winds down his window. ‘Morning Dawn, lovely day.’ Dawn frowns, ‘Not if you’ve been sat indoors all morning trying to get the washing done and the electric’s been off.’
Scotty tries to kiss her but she turns her head. ‘Come on love,’ he pleads, ‘we’ve been hard at it since six o’clock last night. Give us a break.’
‘I’ll break your bleeding neck one of these days,’ grumbles the lovely Dawn as she ushers her husband inside the house.
Frank pips the hooter as he drives off. No sense of humour, some people.