Skin Deep by Laura Jarratt Read Free Book Online

rucksack. I cycled the eight miles to Whitmere and freewheeled down the long hill towards town, rattling over the last stretch of cobbles. As if my nerves needed any more jangling.
    Eight fifty. I was early.
    Pete stuck his head out of the office. ‘Mornin’. And a filthy one it is. Come in for a brew before we get started.’
    I parked the bike up by the side of the Portakabin. Pete handed me a mug of tea when I went inside. Bill nodded to me, puffing up a cloud of blue smoke from his pipe.
    ‘See that semi-trad outside?’ Pete pointed out of the window.
    I looked out at a yellow and black narrowboat hauled up into dry dock. ‘Yes.’
    ‘Needs an overhaul – do the works on her. You any good on the painting side?’
    ‘Yeah, not bad.’
    ‘The arty stuff?’
    I nodded.
    ‘Good, because I’m not. Bill normally takes that side of things, but he’s got a lot on so I’ll let you have a go with this one. You give me a shout to check your work regular, mind. I can’t afford for you to be making a mess.’
    I hovered by the sink, gulping hot tea and agreeing.
    He threw an amused glance up to the ceiling. ‘Sit down and drink it, lad. You’re making Bill nervous.’
    I shuffled over to the spare chair. I’d never seen anyone look less nervous than Bill did, sucking away on his pipe.
    Pete’s mouth twitched. ‘Got first-day jitters, eh? I still remember my first day at work. Apprentice in a car plant in the Midlands. I was bleedin’ terrified.’
    Bill laughed, a phlegmy rattle. ‘Aye,’ he said, stretching his legs out. ‘I were an electrician. Big firm up north of here. They used to torment us new lads something chronic.’ He stared at me, eyes narrowing in weather-beaten skin as he took another draw on the pipe. ‘Let’s hope this ’un’s better than the last, Pete. Terrible trouble, he were.’ He took his pipe from his mouth and leaned closer to me. ‘Drove us to beyond what a man can endure. Drove us there over and over again until we couldn’t stand no more. We ’ad to do something! We buried him under the storage shed,’ he said in a croaky whisper. ‘His bones is still there.’
    My mouth fell open, until I caught his eyes crinkling up with laughter and I snapped my jaw shut again. Bill winked.
    Pete slapped the desk and his laugh boomed out. ‘Your face . . . priceless!’
    Bill creaked to his feet and patted a heavy hand on my shoulder as he took his mug to the sink. ‘You’ll do all right, lad. Never worry.’
    All the same, it was stressful that morning. I was desperate to get everything right and just as desperate not to be a nuisance. I kept thinking of Cole too. I guess that was from being around Pete and Bill. They reminded me a bit of him and his mates. And they loved those boats. Cole had been like that with the bike.
    After he moved on to the boat with us, he decided he needed to take a trip over to Shrewsbury and he took me along riding pillion. Mum was so loved-up that she let him talk her into letting me go as long as he rode slowly. It might have been slow to Cole, but to me it was like we were an arrow flying through the air. He’d bulked me up in his spare leathers so I didn’t look so much like a kid to any passing road cops who might pull us over to check he had permission for me to be on the bike. We travelled down country lanes for miles, my arms round his waist for balance, and I learned which way to tilt as we cornered and how far to lean out.
    We stopped at a council cottage in a large plot just outside Shrewsbury. ‘This is Jeff’s place,’ Cole said, holding the bike while I scrambled off. ‘Jeff!’ he hollered to a small man fiddling with a bike engine outside the house.
    The guy came over. ‘Cole, mate, how’s it going?’
    They clapped each other on the back and chatted for a few minutes about people I didn’t know, until Jeff asked, ‘So, who’s this then?’
    Cole slung his arm over my shoulder. ‘This is Ryan. He’s part of why I’m here. Me