Free Cleaning Up by Paul Connor-Kearns Page A

Just stay with the program son - don’t fuck it up, alright?’
    Darrin assented and Keegan amiably stood aside to let him move on towards the station’s lifts.
    The next day on he was feeling notably more chilled and he even engaged with Debbie a little bit more than was their norm. Debbie with her interminable stories about her youngest son, an eight year old who had Asperger’s, she kept the whole of the fucking station abreast of that.
    It was a nice day at least, getting up towards spring now and he managed to persuade her to let him drive up to the butty van that was always up near the ressies. He grabbed them two teas then parked the car so that he could gaze downtowards the urban spread, which poured down from the hills onto the western plain that was a thousand feet below. It was even warm enough today for a bit of heat shimmer, the big radio telescope doing a little dance in the distance. February, he thought, fucking nuts that is.
    The radio crackled - Trish’s voice came over, a purse snatch just off the High Street. A fast fifteen minute drive and they were there back down amongst the thick of it.
     
    Tommy had caught the six o’clock train back up north on the Monday morning, he was a little tired with the early start to the day but felt mentally refreshed with the change of scene. It had been a stroll round Greenwich and a movie on Saturday and a kick around at the local park with Lee and Bern’s bohemian buddies on the Sunday. The football was good-natured and excruciatingly non competitive. Jimbo would have been apoplectic with it all; no mazy dribbles, no pathological reluctance to pass the ball and no scything tackles on display. A couple of the crew had come back to the flat including a comely but married blonde who seemed to get off on his banter a little bit more than what was the norm.
    Before he had left on the Monday, Lee had met him in the kitchen and they’d said their goodbyes. Lee would be back up in a month or so to see his Mum and he had rebooked the standing reservation on Tommy’s couch. Lee always made the point of asking even though the arrangement between them was a given.
    His good mood followed him on through the day and even the paperwork and the filing momentarily held no tedium for him.
    The kid had come in for his one-on-one at eleven. He’deven got there a little bit early today. He handed Tommy the exercise that Tommy had given out to him last week. He had wanted the kid to focus on somebody in his life who had taught him something that he had really enjoyed learning. The kid had written a piece about a bloke called Kim, a friend of his mum’s, who, when he was eight years old, had shown him how to make origami. The kid was a little embarrassed at the disclosure and it took some courage for him to tell it, but he was visibly comforted by Tommy’s words of support and encouragement. The story was pretty well written too. Fuck knows why the kid had ended up here. Regardless, he’d keep the safety net out for as long as the kid needed it.
    The day was unseasonably warm and he was amazed when a bumble bee nudged against the office window a few times. Still, they were forecasting snow for the upcoming weekend so it wasn’t knotted hankie time just yet.
    He popped up to old man Aziz’s in his lunch break. When he turned the corner to the shop the first thing that he noticed was an expensive car, a late model Beamer no less that was parked right outside the store. Instinctively, he knew that it would be Noora and he unconsciously lengthened his stride as he walked towards the shop. He even felt the stirring of tumescence at the thought of seeing her again - rolling back the years alright.
    Tommy forcefully opened the door and there she was, an urban, desert rose if ever there was one. Noora! She, Jamal and her father turned towards him as he stepped into the store. Her smile magnetized him as it always had and Jamal and Mr Aziz quickly receded into the background as they