Scrap 100 FINAL PART OF SERIES ONE

SCRAP 100
Tony Blackburn is twittering away on the radio as Scotty drives his pal to the magistrate’s court. His solicitor has warned him that despite his guilty plea and previous good character he will be looking at a prison sentence. ‘Please play a record for my Nan who is ill on her birthday,’ chirrups Blackburn. ‘Sorry to hear that, Doris of Dartford and I hope she gets well soon.’ The next track is mixed in and Frank finds himself humming along to the tune.
‘I don’t know how you can be so cheerful,’ says Scotty, ‘I feel pig sick.’ Frank says he has to make the best of a bad situation and anyway at least he’s managed to get him and Ken off the hook. ‘I feel really guilty about you doing this,’ Scotty continues. ‘What would be the use of both of us going inside?’ asks Frank, ‘especially with Dawn expecting twins.’ Scotty groans, ‘don’t remind me,’ he says, ‘it’s hard enough feeding the mouths we have already. I’ll be working six days a week just to keep up.’ Frank says he should be grateful he has a family. ‘I don’t have anyone,’ he reminds him.
Scotty doesn’t have a reply to that one. The record comes to a finish and Tony Blackburn chortles into the microphone: ‘Sorry Doris of Dartford, I read that a bit wrong. You said that your Nan will be 111 years old today, the eleventh of January. Happy birthday Doris’s Nan and I hope you enjoyed the record. Now here’s one for all you romantics out there.’ Frank shakes his head, ‘he’s a prat that bloke.’
The sun is melting thick frost from the trees as they park the car. ‘Look after it for me,’ says Frank, ‘and don’t dent the bodywork.’ Scotty assures him he will take good care of the Vanden Plas 4litre R and the rest of the belongings Frank has entrusted to his care. There is time for a cup of coffee before they go into the courthouse and they step inside the small café, which is warm and welcoming on this chilly day. ‘Hey,’ calls a man sitting at one of the formica topped tables, ‘fancy seeing you here.’ They turn to see Harry Tobin who is sitting with a half-eaten bacon sandwich in his hand. ‘I could say the same of you,’ says Frank. ‘Pleading for my licence,’ grumbles Harry, ‘got caught speeding again so my brief said to make an appearance. I’m meeting him here in a few minutes.'
The pals buy their coffee and join Harry at his table. ‘Of course, you’re here about the car business aren’t you?’ remembers Harry. ‘That’s very generous of you taking the entire rap.’ Frank says it was the only way to keep Scotty and Ken out of trouble so might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb.
‘Did you hear about Gasper Gerry?’ Harry continues, ‘he had a heart attack New Year’s Eve, dropped dead in the club bar right before the bells rang in the New Year’. We thought he was drunk but there he was, dead as a door knob.’ Scotty and Frank had not been at the club on New Year’s Eve but had heard the news the next day. ‘Great start to the new year, eh? Mind you his wife is gonna be alright: he had a big insurance policy.’
Scotty is reminded that if he pegs out there will be no windfall for his family. Maybe he should take out insurance too. The mood is getting gloomier and nobody knows what to say next. They are saved by Harry’s solicitor who arrives with his briefcase under his arm and a thick overcoat done up to the neck. The pals take their leave and wander off in the direction of the court house.
The clerk has only just unlocked the door and the waiting miscreants step inside out of the cold. Frank checks the list, which has just been posted, to find that he is the last one on the morning session. This means he could be waiting around for hours before being called and he asks Scotty to get on his way. ‘I’m not leaving you,’ scoffs his pal, ‘what if they let you off with a suspended sentence? How will you get back home?’ Frank gives him a knowing look; ‘we both know that isn’t going to happen,’ he says, ‘anyway I don’t want Staples seeing you here. You got enough problems without having him on your back.’ Scotty reluctantly takes the advice, shakes Frank by the hand and leaves him to his fate.
After a brief briefing from his brief, Frank is left to wait for his case to be called and he takes out his copy of the Sun but cannot concentrate on it. He thinks back over the past year and wonders how he managed to end up in this situation. What started as a game has turned into a horror, getting him involved with drugs smugglers, arms dealers and murderers. An innocent abroad, that’s how he sees himself, vowing that once all this is over he will get away somewhere and make a fresh start.
The only good thing about the past year is the time he spent with Rosa, but he knows that the affair was never going to last. He is ten years older and now she is married to that thug Danny. He wonders how she must be feeling, having lost her beloved Pa in such horrifying circumstances and allowing herself to be swept away by events beyond her control. You can’t always have what you want and she is probably as unhappy as Frank, maybe even suffering in a prison of a different sort to the one Frank is headed for.
The court appearance lasts less than 15 minutes and the magistrates decide to send Francis Urquhart Ridley to prison for 6 months.
He pauses on his way from the dock to wipe the smirk of triumph off the face of DC Staples. ‘That Cortina your missus swans about in,’ he says, in a low tone, ‘it’s a ringer.’

END OF CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO WILL BEGIN HERE AFTER A SHORT BREAK