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Dan was waiting nervously in The Wheelbarrow pub. It was in one of the less smart areas of Persford and wasn’t somewhere he would frequent with his friends or his girlfriend Jessica. Dan took the bus part of the way and then walked the rest, he would never leave his car parked in the vicinity. This was an area he only visited when he was meeting up with his drug supplier who went by the name of Wayne. Dan had no idea whether it was his real name although the guy seemed too slow witted to have thought to use an alias.
As usual Wayne was running late and Dan was feeling increasingly agitated. He had completely used up his coke supply and was now craving a little help from his trusty white powdery friend. He’d nearly finished his pint of lager and hoped that he wouldn’t have to buy another one, he wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. He didn’t want to be out when Jessica returned from her evening out otherwise she would be grilling him about where he’d been. To his great relief he saw the door open and Wayne shuffled in looking as dubious as ever.
He went to buy a drink and took it over to watch the TV in the corner of the room. Dan was willing Wayne to drink up so that they could conduct their business and Dan could escape the depressing environment. Eventually Wayne finished his drink and went to the Gents’ toilets. Dan waited for a minute then left the bar to join him in the unsanitary conveniences. There were no other men using the toilets but they moved towards the end away from the door.
‘Two large,’ said Dan handing over eighty pounds.
‘Ah, well, I’m afraid that’s not quite enough,’ said Wayne, ‘there’s been a slight price increase.’
‘What? How much?’
‘I need an extra ten.’
‘Jeez, you little scrote, you’re trying to fleece me.’
‘It’s up to you, plenty more customers, I’ll be on my way then. Good luck with finding another supplier. It looks like you’ll need one at short notice.’
‘No! Come back,’ said Dan and he reached inside his pocket for another ten pounds. As he pulled out his money his fingers caught on the lanyard on his security pass from the university and it fell to the floor.
Wayne picked it up and examined it. Although his reading skills were poor he could recognise a few words and letters. He could see that the name started with Dan and he knew the name Daniel so that must be his customer’s name.
Dan snatched at the security pass and stuffed it back into his pocket. ‘If you keep increasing your prices I might start making my own in my lab at uni.’
‘Oh, reckon you can do that, do you?’ said Wayne as he watched Dan immediately take some of the coke and snort it.
‘I might just do that. Save myself some money.’ said Dan inhaling deeply and letting the material work its magic.
‘Well, if you’re at the uni perhaps you can spread the word, get me some more customers and then I might be able to offer you a special deal?’
‘Ha, nice try. But I think I might be out on my ear. I’m not going to start this recommend a friend like some companies do.’ He grabbed Wayne and thrust him up against the wall. ‘You need me more than I need you, so stop trying to lay down the law.’
Dan held him in position, tightening his hand round Wayne’s throat. Once satisfied that Wayne’s face had reddened enough he released him. Wayne relaxed and exhaled. No further words were exchanged as Dan stomped out of the toilets watched by a worried looking Wayne. The door swung back on its hinges crashing back against the already cracked tiles. Wayne rubbed his neck and straightened his clothes. He checked in the mirror and pulled his collar up to cover the red patches. Although he could ill afford it he headed back to the bar to order a whisky to steady his nerves.
**
A few streets away from The Wheelbarrow pub in a small one-bedroom flat above a Kebab shop, Scott Briggs and Erin Jones had just finished having sex. Scott desperately wanted to light up a cigarette but Erin’s asthma prevented him smoking indoors in her presence. He would have preferred the smell of smoke to the smell of fried food which occasionally drifted up into the flat. It seemed to depend on the wind direction and tonight the extractor fan from the shop, aided by the strong gusts was spewing its stale odours right in through the vent serving the gas boiler in the kitchen.
Erin had turned away from him and had now dozed off to sleep. Scott lay on his back and surveyed the room. The dim light from the bedside lamp covered up some of the room’s shabbiness but it was still a dump. They were paying nearly seven hundred pounds a month with bills on top for this excuse for a flat. Some landlords were complete shysters he thought. If the winter was really cold this year they would struggle to keep warm as the windows let in all the draughts.
He hoped that if he could get on to Cole’s payroll they might be able to afford something better. Being acquainted with Erin had clearly boosted his credentials. He just hoped that she’d not taken too many risks accessing confidential information at the university. He looked over at Erin and began to feel resentful. If only she could control her spending habits they might have a chance of saving up some money for a deposit for better accommodation. There was no chance of buying a property but at least somewhere a bit smarter should be possible. She couldn’t resist buying clothes and seemed to think she was a size ten so everything looked too tight on her. No matter how expensive her outfits, she would always look like a common tart. Her heavy makeup and bleached blonde hair didn’t help either. Luckily she was very accommodating in bed and willing to try anything he suggested however outrageous. Thinking about this he felt himself harden but he couldn’t stay any longer, he was meeting up with Lee Percival. He just hoped that Lee might be able to get him into Cole’s favoured circle of assistants. His size and stature should help if they were looking for some muscle. He was an intimidating sight with a tattoo of a spider’s web reaching up his neck from his shoulder. He got out of bed and headed to the mould-encrusted bathroom to take a lukewarm shower.
