The Man on the Street by Trevor Wood

Author:Trevor Wood [Wood, Trevor]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Quercus Publishing
Published: 2019-10-31T06:00:00+00:00

33

Premier allotments, Newcastle, July 11, 2012

‘You’re nicked, son!’

Jimmy leapt up, banging his head on a wheelbarrow that was hanging from the shed roof, knocking it off its hook, bringing the whole thing crashing down on top of him. He pushed it off, wriggled out from under it and kicked over a watering can as he did, the stagnant water soaking into his trousers.

A large, shadowy figure stood in the shed doorway, obscured by the blazing sun behind him. A flashback from his nightmare zoomed into his head then straight back out again. This was real.

Dog seemed strangely unfussed by both the noise and the intruder, jumping up at him gently, looking for attention more than anything else. The man laughed.

Gadge. The twat.

‘Your face, man,’ Gadge said. ‘Funniest thing I’ve seen since wife number two fell off one of them plastic bananas at Gran Canaria. And that was fucking hilarious. She lost two of her teeth.’

Jimmy didn’t see the funny side, too busy rubbing his head, could already feel a lump where he’d hit it, just to add to his recent war wounds.

‘Thought I might find you here,’ Gadge said. ‘Creature of habit, our Jimmy, I said to Deano, a creature of habit.’

Gadge was right. They’d been here before, when Jimmy had been a novice at this, stumbling around trying shed-door handles, disturbing a three-quarters-cut Gadge who’d tried to take his head off with a garden hoe before falling into a marrow trench. The fact that Jimmy hadn’t just left him there but dragged him back into the shed and put a blanket on him before finding a temporary home in another nearby shack had cemented their friendship, if that’s what it was. He’d been coming back now and again ever since. There was always one shed that had been left unlocked and usually one or two tomatoes to scavenge if you were hungry.

‘What do you want anyway?’ Jimmy said, knowing that Gadge wasn’t one for rose-tinted memories.

‘That’s nice. Come all this way for a chat and a cuppa and that’s all I get?’

‘There’s no cuppa here, not after that stupid wake-up call. I’m soaked.’

‘Good job I brought me own then, isn’t it?’ Gadge said, pulling a flask from his pocket. ‘I hope you’ve got a cup.’

Jimmy found a spare mug on a bench and they sat on a couple of upturned pots outside the shed while they drank.

‘We’ll probably have to move doon here soon,’ Gadge said.

‘Why’s that?’

‘The Queen’s coming, man. Diamond Jubilee tour, d’you not read the news? I applied to light one of them beacons. Didn’t get picked, like, can’t imagine why.’

‘Maybe because you hate the royal family.’

‘Aye, I knaa, I was gonna try and burn the council offices doon with the torch. Gan doon in history.’ He laughed. ‘Gadge Fawkes, what d’you reckon to that?’

‘No bugger would pay a penny for you,’ Jimmy said. ‘What’s all that gotta do with us anyway?’ He took a sip of his lukewarm tea, pulled a face.

‘They’ll be clearing the streets when she comes, man, can’t let Her Maj’s royal eyes settle on the likes of us.

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