Southsiders by Nigel Bird Read Free Book Online Page A

away.
    “The only thing we’ll need,” Fish said, “is identification. And a little, how should I put it? Discretion.”
    Discretion? It wasn’t a word Jesse knew. He wracked his brains for something similar. He drew a complete blank. “What are you talking about?”
    Fish sat back, surprised at the spirit of the boy. There weren’t many adults who asked him questions using that tone, especially when any of his staff were around – they were usually scary enough to intimidate the hardest Edinburgh had to offer. “What I mean is, I shouldn’t be doing business with a minor like you.”
    “I’ve never been down a pit in my life.”
    “No,” Fish laughed. “A child. I’m not supposed to be doing business with a child, at least not the way the law sees it. I will, however, bend the regulations if you can provide me with some means of identification.”
    “My dad always says the law’s an arse.”
    “Said.”
    “What?”
    “Said. Your dad always said. And it’s...never mind. Do you have the ID?”
    Thankfully, Jesse had come prepared. He reached into his jacket, pulled out an electric bill, a gas bill and the rent book and put them onto the table.
    Tony Fish picked them up, read them, looked over at Lurch and nodded. “Have them send down the paperwork and the cash.”
    Within a minute, there was an envelope of cash on the table.
    In front of Jesse were several pages of a contract he was to sign. He knew all about the need to read things before signing them, but the words didn’t make any sense. He pretended to pay attention to the detail for a short while and then skipped to the end.
    Tony Fish tipped the lid of the inkwell in Jesse’s direction and handed him the quill. “Sign at the mark of the cross.”
    Jesse picked the quill up and attempted to write on the line. It scratched on the paper, but left no mark. He tried again. “I think it’s broken.”
    Fish leaned across. Dipped the end of the quill carefully into one of the wells and carefully took it out again. He passed it over to Jesse. “Try it now.”
    This time it worked. His signature may not have been as valuable as Elvis’s, but it did look pretty grown up for a lad of his age.
    Lurch took the forms. Rolled a blotter over the ink and folded them up neatly.
    “And here’s your cash.” He slid it over the table. “£1000 as agreed. To be paid back in full within a period of sixty days with the accrued interest of 10% per thirty days.” Jesse’s face wrinkled at the news and Fish must have noticed. “Bring back either £1100 after thirty days or £1220 after sixty and you can take your precious records away with you. Should you fail to do so, the goods will be sold in the shop at whatever price we deem fit. Understand?”
    Jesse nodded. Felt the thickness of the cash he was holding. It was thicker than any of the books he’d ever read. “Thanks, Mr Fish.” His voice had a nervous crackle to it, betraying the fact that he felt like Hansel imprisoned in a house of gingerbread. “I’ll see you next year. Happy Christmas.” He’d have leant over and offered his hand had the memory of the first shake not been implanted in his brain.
    He tucked the cash safely away into his inside pocket, nodded to the two gentlemen and left the shop, heading in the direction of the housing association rent office with a gentle bounce in his step as he went.

Suspicious Minds
    ––––––––
    T he stairs were murder with arms full of groceries. Jesse had maybe gone a bit far on his first time in charge of the budget and the shopping list. Not that he was regretting the purchasing of all those Christmas decorations. The flat was looking pretty Spartan and the ancient collection of decorations weren’t going to be up to the job for yet another year.
    By the time Jesse got to his floor, he was completely out of puff and dropped all of the bags before going over to his door.
    “Hello, Jesse.” The voice came from behind. Gave him a start.