Scrap 47

SCRAP 47
The pals enjoyed the air show and are back at Sheerness docks loading up with trays of tomatoes. Frank is moving very carefully in an attempt to avoid chafing his sunburned thighs. Being fair skinned he burns easily but still tries to get a tan even though he knows he will burn and peel. Scotty is almost as bad, but he did at least cover his legs. Frank in shorts is not a good look; Frank in shorts with red legs is a very bad look and he has some regrets about his choice of attire the previous day.
Everyone seems to have been enjoying the sunshine, showing signs varying from pink to red to bronze. Beanpole Brett is showing off his browning upper body, working in just a pair of light blue jeans. He seems in fine form, whistling loudly and tunelessly as he stacks the trays against the headboard of his flatbed trailer. Harry Tobin has taken him back on despite the rumour that his wife is a little too friendly in his presence. Brett has put lucrative work his way in the past and Harry feels he owes him at least this driving job.
After roping and sheeting their loads, the pals take a break in the canteen, ordering their usual breakfast fare. Seated at one of the tables is Ginger Jarvis, holding Court with some men they don’t recognise. No doubt he is spinning some yarn or other. Frank finds a table out of earshot and they sit, out of the sunlight which is streaming through the windows. ‘So you’ve moved in then?’ asks Scotty. ‘Yes, all my worldly goods are now at 48 March Road. I’ll get round to sorting things out eventually, but there’s not much to show anyway, just a few bits and bobs. I like to travel light.’ ‘You won’t be having a house warming then?’ Frank gives him a wry look, ‘what do you think?’
The breakfast arrives and they get stuck in. They can hear guffaws of laughter coming from the group on Ginger’s table but can’t hear what is being said. ‘That man seems to follow us about like a bad smell,’ says Frank, ‘I suppose that lot will be his new best friends.’ Scotty nods, ‘until they find out what he’s like.’
The door opens and Beanpole strides up to the counter. ‘Hello darling,’ he addresses the elderly cook, ‘how you doing?’ Ivy says she is doing very well thank you and asks what he wants. ‘Just a cup of tea and a kiss from you if there’s one going.’ Ivy blushes, ‘go on with you,’ she laughs as she pours the stewed brew into a chipped mug. ‘Help yourself to milk and sugar.’ Brett pours milk into the mug and stirs in 4 spoonsful of sugar. ‘Where’s my other girlfriend then?’ he asks. Ivy has worked at the canteen for 14 years and has seen many assistants come and go. Brett could be referring to any number of them but she guesses he means Shirley. ‘She got married last month and is now a lady of leisure. Just my luck having to train up a new girl.’ Brett’s ears prick up and he cranes his neck to see into the back kitchen. ‘Where is she then? Do I know her?’
A shy-looking 16 year old pops her head round the corner and Brett gives her a charming smile. ‘Hello gorgeous,’ he calls, ‘hope you’re not hiding from me.’ The girl ducks away out of sight and Ivy calls out: ‘Bettina, have you finished doing them carrots yet?’ The girl calls back that they are almost done and asks if she should make a start on the potatoes. ‘You can have your break now if you want,’ offers Ivy, winking at Brett.
Bettina dries her hands on a tea towel and comes to the counter. She pours herself a cup of tea and takes a chocolate biscuit from the display. ‘Come and sit with me,’ says Brett; ‘I don’t bite.’ The girl casts her eyes downwards, ‘no thanks, I’ll sit in the kitchen.’ It seems than not every female falls for the Beanpole charm after all. Perhaps he is losing his touch. He turns towards the table where a group of men are talking rather loudly and notices one in particular seems to be taking centre stage. He walks up to him, ‘well, well, if it isn’t my old mate Ginger Jarvis,’ he says, ‘how are you keeping? And how is your lovely wife? Lauren isn’t it?’ Ginger can’t help colouring up, ‘Laura, actually. Sorry Brett, I didn’t see you come in,’ he lies, ‘you alright?’
Brett drags a chair over and sits next to Ginger, uncomfortably close. ‘Well Harry kept my job open for me and my Granddad let me move back in so I guess I’m alright. Where are you headed? I’ve got 3 drops in Covent Garden and 4 in Borough.’ Ginger says he has the Midlands run, which means he will be out until 8am at the earliest. ‘Oh, bad luck,’ continues the Beanpole, ‘I should be home and finished by three. I’ll see you around then.’ He drains his tea and waves goodbye to Ivy. ‘Say goodbye to Bettina for me.’
Scotty and Frank have taken in all of this. ‘Wonder what he’s up to?’ asks Scotty. Frank swallows down the last of his cold tea, ‘your guess is as good as mine,’ he replies, ‘as long as it doesn’t involve me.’ Scotty nods in agreement, ‘better be getting off now, Dawn wants me to fix that shelf in the kitchen before I get my head down. See you later.’
As they part company, Frank notices that Beanpole is looking at something underneath Ginger’s cab. Yes he is certainly up to something but he won’t let it spoil a sunny day.