Free The Merman by Carl-Johan Vallgren Page A

thanks.
    â€˜Is there a customer toilet here, by the way?’
    â€˜In the same direction, go out into the corridor by the emergency exit sign, that’s where they are. And if you need help with the boots, just shout.’
    She went back towards the till. I checked out the ceiling: no mirrors as far as I could see. I waited until she had her back turned to me, took a pair of Stan Smiths from the rack and headed off towards the toilet.
    Right next to it was a staircase leading upstairs. I stuck a key in the notch in the toilet lock and turned it so it showed red. If she decided to come back here, it would look like I was inside having a pee...
    The upper floor was nearly empty, except for a few mirrors fixed to the walls. There was a balcony door in one wall that led out onto a fire escape. I opened the door and placed the trainers on the landing. My brother was standing on the pavement opposite. I waved to him that the coast was clear.
    Then I went back downstairs, unlocked the toilet and found the rack of wellies. I tried on a couple of pairs and placed them back on the rack.
    â€˜Didn’t find anything?’ the assistant asked as I walked past the till.
    â€˜No, not the right colour.’
    â€˜We’ll get some new ones in at the end of the month. Red and light blue. You can come back then.’
    My brother was waiting over by the railway bridge. He had the trainers strapped onto the parcel rack on the rear of his bike.
    â€˜That was smart with the stairs,’ he said. ‘How did you know about them?’
    â€˜I’d been and done a recce. In Case there was an emergency situation.’
    â€˜These are really nice trainers.’
    I nodded.
    â€˜Try them on. They’re your size.’
    He looked at me, taken aback, and then at the trainers.
    â€˜Mum will know we nicked them.’
    â€˜She won’t notice a damn thing. She’s on her way into one of her phases again.’
    â€˜But when she comes out of it?’
    â€˜By then they’ll be so worn out, we can say we found them somewhere. Anyway, you can start off wearing them at school. And then change out of them before you go home. You can keep your old shoes in your locker, and change in the mornings and the afternoons. Nobody will notice anything.’
    Robert blushed slightly.
    â€˜They’re really nice,’ he said quietly. ‘Thanks.’
    â€˜I didn’t pay anything for them.’
    â€˜No. But you ought to sell them. Gerard is going to want his money.’
    I reached out and stroked his head. His hair was starting to get long. I would have to give him a haircut again soon.
    â€˜Listen, Robert, I’d get maybe fifty kronor for them, at most. That’s small fry. I’m just wasting my time with this.’
    He looked both terrified and happy: terrified at the thought of what Gerard would do if he didn’t get his money, and happy about the trainers, a pair of regular trainers that were in style for once.
    â€˜You look like one stylish dude,’ I said. ‘All you’re missing is a pair of cool kecks and you’ll be the king of Year Seven. And who cares if Mum finds out. What can she say?’
    I watched as he put the trainers on. His hands were trembling, he was so excited. I took his old ones and put them on top of an electrical enclosure, a pair of brown canvas shoes from the discount store which he had outgrown several months ago.
    â€˜So what are you going to do instead?’ he asked. ‘We need to get the money.’
    â€˜We’ll head to the electronics shop. They’ve got something there I think Gerard’s interested in.’
    A few weeks previously when I was in town, I had seen a personal cassette player in the display window of the electronics shop. Just as I had hoped, it was still there. It was the latest model from Sony, which was in a class of its own. No Panasonic or Philips or any of the other makes that were just trying to imitate