In Pieces Read Free Page A

office later today. He has a proposition for you.’
    â€˜Really? Can you tell me what exactly?’
    â€˜No, I’m afraid I can’t. Only that you may find it worth your while. Mr McCormack has seen your work and he likes it. I think you’ll be interested in what he has to say.’
    â€˜Oh, right. What time?’
    â€˜Say about three?’
    â€˜I’ll be there.’
    â€˜Good. See you then. Bye.’
    â€˜Bye.’ Si’s heart was thumping. The excitement was almost painful. Could this be it? The break that would take him out and above the likes of Slimey Stevens? He didn’t dare to hope, but it was impossible not to. Three o’clock seemed an eternity away.
    ~
    â€˜Another?’
    â€˜Yeah, why not?’
    â€˜It’d be rude not to, eh?’
    â€˜I guess so.’ Jimmy stood up, pulled up his jeans and tucked in his tee shirt. He wandered over to the bar and returned soon after with two handsome pints.
    Si and his best mate Jimmy were in their local, The Feathers. The pub provided them with a refuge and a second home. They sat on high backed chairs in the corner at their usual table, a rough wooden rectangle covered in beer mats and the circular stains of a thousand pints, many consumed by Si and Jimmy. A dozen other tables clung to the walls, but most of the pub was given over to space before the long L-shaped bar. On Friday night this space would be filled by a heaving mass of drinkers celebrating the end of the working week, but during the day it was empty and the bare boards, uncluttered by drinkers, made the pub seem much larger and lighter than it really was. On the other side of the polished oak barrier, the bar staff shuttled up and down in the deep slot as if attached to a rail. Their reflections flickered in the hanging beer glasses and stencilled mirror, which ran the length of the bar. The Feathers was nothing special really—much like several hundred other Edwardian pubs in southwest London. But it was important to Si and Jimmy and associated inextricably with their friendship.
    Si watched Jimmy weave his way towards him. His friend was poised, the natural athlete balancing two full glasses carefully. A girl turned her head as Jimmy passed, clearly impressed by his trim body, clean-cut good looks and smiling eyes. The extra-short haircut was neat, and baggy jeans concealed large thighs—always, reflected Si, a winning factor with girls.
    â€˜Thanks for that,’ said Si, sipping carefully so as to preserve the spumy head for as long as possible.
    â€˜You look like you’re seducing it, not drinking it.’ Jimmy wasn’t malicious, just mucking about. He knew Si well, better than anyone probably. They’d grown up together and, although they’d now gone different ways, they still saw enough of each other to know what was what. ‘You take your tongue out of there, you pervert. You can get arrested for that, eh?’
    â€˜Piss off,’ said Si matter-of-factly and resumed drinking.
    Jimmy laughed and took up his own pint purposefully. ‘So how’s it going?’
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜The new job, what else?’
    â€˜All right. It’s all right.’
    â€˜Is that all?’
    â€˜Yeah, it’s really good now I come to think of it. Most of the time.’
    â€˜I s’pose that’s true of everything.’
    â€˜Not everything, but work anyway. I catch myself thinking there must be more to life than turning up to an office and working all day. Know what I mean?’
    â€˜Yeah, suppose so.’
    â€˜Not that you’ve ever worked in an office, mind…’
    â€˜Hold on. Football is a job too, you know. Bloody hard work too…’
    â€˜Yeah, sure. I wasn’t saying otherwise. Only you don’t work in an office, do you?’ They drank quietly. ‘The thing that gets me, you know, is how broken up modern life is… D’you see?’
    â€˜No,