Beat on the Brat and Other Stories by Nigel Bird

Author:Nigel Bird
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Sea Minor
Published: 2011-07-24T07:00:00+00:00

***

Weather was fucked. Cold front from Russia or something.

Only Luke and me got in on Thursday. Took me longer than Monday on account of the broken ribs, bruised buttocks and swollen testicles. Felt something twinge every step of the way, but nothing was going to stop me.

Didn’t broadcast my arrival. Went in through the back and watched from my office till I was ready.

Told Luke I had some business I had to take care of and got on the blower to Uncle A.

***

Uncle Archie wasn’t going to be put off by a bit of bad weather. 91 years old and there he was, no worries.

Salt of the earth he is. Always got by doing a bit of this and that. Winters he made money selling roasted chestnuts to tourists, the rest of the year it was seed for the pigeons on Trafalgar Square for anyone wanting to play at Mary Poppins. Charged a damn sight more than tuppence a bag and all.

Lives in Edmonton these days on account of him not having a proper pension and living so long. He’s on the third floor of a block that make Eastern European towers look like Luxury apartments. Loses residents every year from the balconies, if balconies is what you call them – they’re more a place to collect bird shit in case you want to spread it on your plants if you ask me.

Still keeps the lock-up garage in Islington. Fills it with things he couldn’t get rid of. Arsenal champions shirts, fireworks from the wettest November since records began, singing goldfish that were all the rage until someone found the poison in them.

I help him with the heavy stuff when he needs.

It was those fireworks that popped into my head when I was trying to sleep off the beating.

“Still got the old chestnut stove?” I asked him Tuesday.

“Sure. Always handy for barbecues.”

“And the fireworks?”

“In the lock-up.”

“Thing is, Uncle A, I might need to take them off your hands for a bit. Sort out a problem I’ve been having.”

He didn’t need to know what I was thinking, but it felt good telling. Even added some fresh ideas, he did. Wanted to get his hands dirty on this one.

Can’t keep a good man down.

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