Free Fresh by Mark McNay

corner booth with his arm up on the side, foot on the table, and a white cap retreating with a clinking plastic bag. As Sean got close to the table, Sammy took a draw on his roll-up and put his arm on the back of the chair where his punters sat. He nodded at Sean.
    Alright? said Sean.
    No bad.
    Have ye got my stuff?
    Sammy pulled a bag from under the table. Sean grabbed it and stood up.
    Cheers Sammy Ah’ll see ye later.
    Sean went through Fresh and into Packing. He found Rab in his shed with his head stuck in the same magazine.
    Ya dirty wee bastard. Ye’ll go blind.
    Rab jumped.
    Fuck sake, Ah thought ye were George.
    Sean held up his bag.
    Will ye look after this for us?
    Aye no bother.
    Sean put it under Rab’s desk.
    Cheers son. Help yerself to a wee drink of the voddy.
    Ah’ll maybe just do that.
    No too much but. Yer da’ll kill me if he catches ye.
    Right.
    Ah’ll get it off ye on the bus.
    Sean left Packing and headed for the exit. He nodded to the security guard on the way out of the main gates. It was nice to get out of the stink and into the fresh country air. His appointment with the man at the Clydesdale was ten past ten. Five past now. Plenty of time. Sean liked this part of the town. The old houses with their thatched roofs. The black beams that crisscrossed the facias. The leaded windows. He could just imagine a horse and cart with a pile of rosy red apples in the back and a tasty country bit on the front seat. One of them fat lassies with red cheeks and a smile on her face. Maybe a front tooth missing so you know you’re in the old days. The clip clop echoing down the narrow street. Maybe a guy walking past with a scythe over his shoulder and a bit of straw hanging out of his mouth.
    Sean spat onto the mucky snow at the side of the road. It was cold out. He bent forward into the wind and pulled the peak of his cap down over his forehead. Just as well he had his freezer jacket on. A pensioner struggled up the pavement with a bag full of shopping. Tears ran out of her eyes. Her shoes had a split in the side and she walked with a grimace.
    He climbed the wide steps into the bank. Big white pillars framed the doorway. You could tell it used to bea rich cunt’s house. Some guy that made a fortune in the tobacco game. Or maybe from weaving clothes for the army or the prison service. The autobank machine cut into the side of the wall gave the game away. They didn’t have them back then. Sean wondered if they made the hole special or they fitted it into a doorway. Or a window.
    He went into the perfumed heat of the bank. There was a queue at the tellers but for once he didn’t have to wait in it. He went straight to the receptionist’s desk. An attractive lassie glanced up and looked down at him.
    Can I help you?
    Ah’ve come to see Mr Mulvey.
    The receptionist had a good look at his fat-splattered overalls.
    Take a seat and I’ll find out if he’s available.
    He better be coz Ah’ve got an appointment.
    Sean sat down and watched the receptionist get buzzed into the interior of the bank.
    Huffy cow.
    Sean took off his cap and picked bits of chicken from it. He rolled them up like snotters and flicked them on the carpet. Then he folded his cap up and squeezed it into his pocket. He picked at some bobbles on the chair. They came loose with a scratch.
    A guy in a grey suit came out of the office.
    Mr O’Grady?
    Sean stood up and shook the outstretched hand.
    Come through.
    He followed Mulvey into his office.
    What can I do for you?
    Ah need a lend of some money.
    Mulvey looked at Sean’s overalls.
    Yes? And how much would you like to borrow?
    Sean felt like a wee boy up in front of the head.
    Seven hunner pound.
    That’s a lot of money.
    Well it’s what Ah need.
    Indeed. And may I ask why you require the loan?
    Why?
    Yes Mr O’Grady. Why?
    Sean looked at the carpet.
    Ah want to buy a motor.
    Mulvey frowned.
    Loans for leisure purposes can be difficult to obtain. Sean fidgeted in his chair.
    It’s no