Scrap 9

SCRAP 9
‘But dad, I like him,’ Rosa objects. Bill is not impressed. ‘Don’t get involved,’ he warns, wagging his index finger. His daughter has had a string of boyfriends, none of which has met his approval. ‘Frank is at least ten years older than you and I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him,’ Bill continues.
Rosa faces him, hands on hips, shaking her head so her curly black hair bounces on her shoulders. ‘We are only going out for a drink.’ She reaches on tiptoes to kiss her father on the forehead. He softens, ‘Well don’t be late home,’ he warns.
She steps out and heads towards her car. Rex, her favourite dog has seated himself behind the wheel of the little open-top Renault, a hopeful grin on his face. Rosa opens the door. ‘Come on out,’ she laughs, ‘you’re too young to go to the pub.’ Rex grumbles in disappointment, drops reluctantly to the floor and slumps at her feet, front paws over his eyes. ‘Don’t sulk, you know I love you best,’ says Rosa, ruffling the fur on his head. She throws a rug over the seat and turns on the engine.
Rex watches as she drives away. Hopefully she is feeling guilty enough to bring home a treat for him. He trots off happily to play with Prince, who has been worrying at a marrow bone. He prefers riding in Bill’s Land Rover anyway. You can see more high up.
Rosa has recently turned nineteen and considers herself a very mature young woman. She has always been a daddy’s girl and believes she knows as much about the scrap metal business as anyone. She also handles all the accounts, ensuring that the business stays within the confines of the law despite paying very little to the tax man.
Yes, Rosa is sure she is quite capable of looking after herself.