The Business - Страница 4


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'Plus they're test loading some of the etching chemicals today, I think, aren't they, Bill?' Henderson said.

'Oof!' Rix said, taking a comic sort of step away from the door. 'I think we'll keep well away from that stuff, eh?' They both laughed.

In the safety briefing before we'd donned our spacesuits, as well as being told what to do in the event of a fire and where to run for a dousing if something acidic splashed on us, we'd been warned about various chemicals with very long names which were used in the chip-production process.  They could, allegedly, sneak through the tiniest hole in a glove, soak instantly and unnoticed through the skin and get straight to work rotting your bones from the inside before going on to perform even more insidious horrors on your vital organs.

'Well,' said Mr Henderson.  The two men started to pull away from the door.  Mr Rix put an arm out as though to shepherd me away.

I crossed my arms. 'What's the likely life of the plant?'

'Hmm?  Ah, well, with the new lines in place…' Mr Rix began, but I didn't pay very much attention after that.  I had what you might call half an ear for his tone of voice and I was listening for certain keywords, but what I was really interested in was Mr Rix's and Mr Henderson's body language; their whole demeanour.

And all I could think of was, These guys are trying to hide something.  They were frightened of me, which does — I confess — give me a buzz, but it went beyond the usual nervousness of local bosses used to total deference having to answer to somebody from higher up in the organisation who has come to pay a short-notice visit.  There was something else.

Maybe they're both closet misogynists, I thought; perhaps their habituated reactions to women were derisory or even coercive (I'd looked at the files on this place: there was a slightly higher than average rate of staff turnover, especially amongst female workers, and there had been a few more complaints that had ended at industrial tribunals than one might have expected), but somehow that didn't feel like it would account for the edgy vibe I was getting here.

Of course, it could be me.  I could be wrong.  Always check the equipment for sensor error first.

I don't know whether I'd have dismissed the feeling in the end or not — I'd probably have decided they had some lucrative little scam going that could have got them cashiered, but not something it was worth my while bothering with, given that the plant's figures looked pretty good in general — but something happened that made me think about it all later.

A spacesuited woman came into view down an aisle.  I could tell her gender from her gait as much as her shape.  She seemed distracted, struggling to carry a lap-top, a plastic-wrapped metal briefcase, a thick, glossy-covered manual and heavy, straggling cables.  I saw her first.  Then Henderson looked round, casually back at me, and then quickly at her again.  He started towards her, then glanced back at Rix, whose voice faltered momentarily before continuing.

The woman was fishing in a pocket of the spacesuit for something as she approached us while Henderson strode to meet her.  Just before he got to her, she pulled out a swipe card on the end of a little metal chain.

Then Henderson intercepted her, one arm out as he nodded back in the direction she had come from.  Her head came up as she noticed him for the first time.  Mr Rix's arm extended again and, touching my right shoulder, gently but firmly pulled me round and away while his other hand waved through the air and he said, with just a little too much hearty bluster, 'While yet before they turn it into a battery-chicken shed, eh!' He clapped. his gloved hands together. 'Well, now.  Cup of tea?'

I smiled up at him. 'What a good idea.'

I had Raymond take us on a detour on the way back, to a nondescript field by what had once been a main road near Coatbridge.

'Come here, small girl.'

'Whit?'

'I said, come here.'

'Whit fir?'

'What?  What did you say?'

'Eh?'

'Are you actually talking English, child?'

'Ahm no Inglish, ahm Scoatish.'

'Ah.  Well, at least I understood that.  I wasn't questioning your nationality, young lady.  I was merely wondering aloud whether we shared the same language.'

'Whit?'

'Never mind.  Look, would you kindly step closer to the car; I hate having to raise my voice…I'm not going to bite you, child.'

'Who's he?'

'That is Gerald, my chauffeur.  Say hello, Gerald.'

'Aye-aye.  Y'all right, hen?'

'Aye…Zat him fixin the tyre, aye, missis?'

'Yes.  We had a puncture.  He's changing the wheel.'

'Aw aye.'

'How are we doing there, Gerald?'

'Getting there, ma'am.  Getting there.'

'Now, what is your name?'

'Ahm no supposed to talk tae strangers.  Ma maw telt me.'

'Gerald, introduce us.'

'What's that, ma'am?'

'Introduce us, please, dear boy, as best you can.'

'Ah, Mrs Telman, this is, ah, the bairn you're talking to.  Bairn, this is Mrs Telman.'

'Aw aye.'

'There.  We've been introduced.  I am not a stranger any more.  Now, what is your name?…Close your mouth, child.  It's unbecoming.  What is your name?'

'Ma maw sez…'

'Please, miss, her name's Katie McGurk.'

'Oh, hello.'

'Boaby Clark, you're just a wee clipe, so ye are.'

'Least ah've goat a da.'

'Ah widnae want a da like yours; he's just a waster.'

'Ah, still, but.  At least ah've goat wan.  More than you huv.'

'Just you fuck oaf, ye wee four-eyed cunt!'

'You're a wee cow!  Ah'm tellin ma mum you said that!'

'…Katie?'

'Whit?'

'Here.'

'Whit's that?'

'It's a handkerchief.  Go on.  Take it.'

'No thanks.'

'I see.  I take it that young man was Bobby Clark?'

'Aye.  Wee shite.'

'Kate, I confess I am genuinely shocked.  I didn't know children your age used the sort of language you did.  Exactly how old are you, Kate?'

'Eight and a half.'

'Dear God.'

'How old are you, then?'

'My, you do recover quickly.  You're very impertinent, too.  Gerald, cover your ears.'

'Ma hands are a bit mucky, ma'am, but I shall endeavour to keep my lugs averted.'

'How gallant.  I am forty-eight, Kate.'

'Goad, that's dead old, issit no?  Ma gran's no that old.'

'Thank you for your thoughts on the matter, Kate.  Actually it's not terribly old at all and I don't think I have ever felt better about my life.  However.  What exactly are you and your young friends doing over there?'

'Missis, we're havin Olympic Games.'

'Are you indeed?  And I thought it was just a bunch of little kids playing on a bit of muddy waste ground in the drizzle.  What sports are you playing?'

'Och, loads.  Jumpin an runnin an that.'

'And what are you playing, Kate?'

'Ahm no.  Ahm sellin the sweeties an stuff.'

'Is that what you have in your bag?'

'It's ma ma's.  It's old, but she said ah could have it.  Ah didnae nick it or anyhin.  Ah repaired the handle massel.  See?'

'I see.  So, you're running the refreshment concession, are you?'

'Whit?'

'Never mind.  May I buy one of your sweets?'

'Aye.  Ah've no many left, but.  An there's nae fizz.'

'No fizz?'

'Aye.  Nae Irn Bru, or American Cream Soda.  Ah finished both bottles.'

'Just a sweet will do, then.'

'Whit dae ye want?  Ah've Penny Dainties and Black Jacks.  Or there's a few wee lucky-bag sweeties left.'

'I'll have a Penny Dainty, please.'

'That's a penny ha'penny.'

'How much?'

'A penny ha'penny.'

'A penny and a ha'penny?'

'Aye.'

'For a Penny Dainty?'

'That's the price.'

'But that's a fifty-per-cent mark-up on the normal retail charge.'

'Aye, still, but.  That's the price.'

'So you said.  Rather steep, though, isn't it?'

'Aye, but that's the price.  D'ye want it or no?'

'Gerald, do you have any change?'

'Aye, ma'am.  Hold on…Ah, I've got a thruppenny bit.  That any use, ma'am?'

'Thank you, Gerald.  Would you like a sweet?'

'Thanks, ma'am.  Aye, wouldnae mind.'

'Tell you what, Kate.  I'll give you tuppence ha'penny for two Penny Dainties.  How's that?'

'Nut.'

'Why not?'

'Two's thruppence.'

'But I'm buying in bulk, relatively.  I'm looking for a discount.'

'Whit?  Whissat?'

'Didn't you get a discount for buying in bulk when you bought your stock?'

'Missis, ah goat these oot the machine at the bus station.'

'Ah, so you paid full retail.  Still, that's your problem.  My offer stands.  Tuppence ha'penny for two.'

'Nut.'

'Kate, your little friends look like they're finishing their games.  You might not sell much more.  You could be left with unsold stock.  It's a good offer.  Here: take the thruppence.  Then you give me two Penny Dainties, and a ha'penny change.'

'Nut.  Two cost thruppence.'

'One can be too stubborn in the retail business, Kate.  Flexibility is what carries a concern through changing circumstances.'

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