‘You have to go for it, Dan. We all need to find a way through this, and you’ve got a family to take care of. No-one’s going to think any less of you. I’ve spoken to Giles, and he’s been going for interviews, reckons there’s a couple of good jobs around. Raymond was relieved to be able to take early retirement. He’s been wanting to do that for a long time. April’s pretty devastated, though. I think she feels let down by her grandfather.’
‘It’s so bloody unfair. You work for years honing your skills, thinking you’re going to end up using your experience and making a difference—’
‘You’re still young, Dan.’ Longbright laid a gentle hand on Banbury’s arm. ‘You’ll find something to inspire you. Do you want to get a cup of tea? I’m just brewing up.’
‘No, I can’t stop. Well, give my regards to the others when you speak to them.’
‘I will. Here, take these home to the missus. You might start something.’ She handed him a packet of ruby-sequined nipple tassels.
Banbury pocketed them and was about to leave but stopped in the doorway, rubbing the stubble of his hair, suddenly as lost as a child on a beach. ‘Tell them to stay in touch. I mean, I don’t suppose they will, but—’ At a loss for anything further to say, he turned and left.
As Longbright watched Banbury go, she wondered if she would ever see him again. She had come to regard the PCU staff as the closest members of her family. This is how mothers feel when their kids leave home, she thought, folding an embroidered satin girdle and snapping it smartly into a drawer.
6
TROUBLE IN STORE
Rafi Abd al-Qaadir looked around the filthy shop and wondered if he had made a mistake. Buckled metal sheeting marked the spot where the shawarma spits had turned, splattering grease onto the walls and ceiling, and there had clearly been a fire at some point in the past. The meat counters and the bolted-down tables had been left behind, but the ovens and the refrigerator had been ripped out, leaving ragged holes in the plaster.
Rafi had borrowed money from his brothers to buy the lease of the Paradise Chip Shop, Caledonian Road, and knew that he would have to carry out most of the conversion work himself. The first consignment of pottery and rugs was already on its way, and the task before him was daunting because he could not afford to hire a team of professional builders. Even though the lease he had purchased would soon need to be renewed, the handsome young Arab felt sure he could use his charm and wits to turn a profit. The site was good, a corner store in an up-and-coming area with plenty of passing foot traffic.
As he walked through the empty room, his boots crunching on scattered debris, he studied the task ahead. The trickiest part would be the removal of the enormous ventilation system that wound across the ceiling before punching its way out onto the roof. He could get hold of the right equipment easily enough, but the physical element of the job was beyond him. Rafi’s left leg had always been weak, and would not support him if he tried to carry anything too heavy. What he needed to find was a strong labourer who would work cheaply and quickly.
When the man with the shaven head and shoulders like an upended bed appeared in the doorway asking if he needed any work done, Rafi knew that fate had smiled upon him.
Former Detective Constable Colin Bimsley needed to make some fast money. He had already drunk his way through the pitiful payment granted to him by the Home Office. He was now broke. Walking back toward King’s Cross tube station, he had passed the derelict takeaway outlet and watched the guy inside measuring up.
‘Do you know how to take one of these out?’ Rafi asked, pointing up at the cylindrical ventilation shaft.
‘Easy,’ said Bimsley. ‘I can get that down for you, and put in new electrics. I can handle just about anything except plumbing.’
‘That’s fine, I’ve already got someone for that.’ Bimsley walked through to the far wall and gave it an experimental slap. Dirt showered down. Lathe and plasterboard, it would come apart easily enough. He could render and cement the outer wall, reboard the interior, sand and paint, put in new electrical sockets—it wouldn’t take long. ‘So you’re not going to be cooking in here?’
‘No, I’m going to be selling homewares.’
‘You could apply for a grant from the local council.’
‘I don’t understand. Why would they give me a grant?’ ‘You’re going to be improving the area, mate. This road has too many junk food outlets attracting trouble. You’ll be doing everyone a favour. I could probably help you with that as well.’