Fresh Read Online Free Page B

he telt me to sit on the bed and shut it. He gave me a slap on the ear. Ah kept my mouth shut. Sammy put on a record. Same music Archie listened to at home.
    Archie and Sammy sat in the corner and spoke to each other out the sides of their mouths. They looked angry and laughed and pointed fingers at each other. Ah looked around the room. Same room as ours really, same Stiff Little Fingers poster, only we had a double bed and our curtains didnay look as if someone had wiped their arse on them. Sammy asked me if Ah’d ever seen King Dong. Ah shook my head. Archie telt him to pack it in. Sammy telt him he was bein a prick. Archie said alright. He pointed at me and said but if ye tell Albert Ah’ll fuckin kill ye. Ah knew he’d come closeso Ah nodded. Sammy picked at one of the floorboards and pulled up a bit about a foot long.
    He got on his side and put his arm all the way in and came out with a magazine. Ah couldnay believe it. There was a black guy with a cock that went down past his knees. Sammy said King Dong fainted every time he got a hard on. Ah bet ye his wife does as well said Archie. They laughed and Sammy took the magazine back and put it under the floor. Sammy pulled somethin else out and telt me to watch the bedroom door. Ah could hardly hear them for the music but the polis were mentioned.
    On the way home Archie gave me fifty pence for sweeties and telt me Ah’d seen fuck-all, right?
    A few nights later we were sat in the house and Archie seemed a bit jumpy. Every time a motor drove onto the street he got up and looked out the window. My auntie Jessie asked him if he had ants in his pants. My uncle Albert looked up, growled at Archie and got back to the paper. Ah watched the telly. Then Archie got really agitated and there was a knock at the door. My uncle got up to get it and came into the livin room with these two polis. He telt me to get to my bed. He telt Archie to get sat on his arse.
    Ah heard a bit of shoutin downstairs then Archie came up. Ah asked him what was goin on. He telt me to mind my own business and gave me a punch on the top of my head. It was fuckin sore. Ah ran downstairs greetin just as my uncle was showin the polis out the front door. Ah went into the livin room and my auntie Jessie gave me a cuddle. My uncle shut the door andwent upstairs. Ah heard him gie Archie a batterin. By the time Ah went back up he seemed to be asleep but when Ah got into bed he grabbed me by the hair and telt me he’d fuckin kill me if Ah ever grassed him up again. It was that sore Ah nearly pished myself.
    *
    Sean finished his fag and walked down the corridor and back into Fresh. He looked over at the women but they were all busy and didn’t notice him passing. He couldn’t be bothered giving them a shout. One of the older women was showing a new lassie how to truss up a chicken. She was laughing because she couldn’t get the elastic round the chicken’s legs. The old one showed her three times before she finally managed it on her own. She looked best-pleased when she done it and the old dear winked at her and said that’s my girl. Sean spat on the floor and climbed the steps to his station.
    He heard the psst-psst-psst and had to run. The birds being pumped onto his conveyor were plump ones. Sunday roasters. Lovely when they’re cooked. A light brown skin, toes turned up, and a waft of aromatic steam tempting the taste buds. The dad at the head of the table, sharpening the carving knife with long deliberate flicks. The children hypnotised by the rhythmic scrapes yet alert as hungry dogs. The sprouts and the mash potatoes are on dishes in the centre of the table. They’re dying to nick a sprout but any funny business and the dad will delay the serving of the chicken for anotherfew minutes. A lesson in self-discipline he calls it. Mum comes through from the kitchen with the roasting can smoking with potatoes and vegetables. She pours the contents of the can into a warmed dish placed in the centre of the