Read Ratburger Salad Page 9

Al leaned back against the plate glass window of the Virgin Megastore and glanced irritably at his watch. Okay, so it was only 12:50 and he’d said 1 o’clock but he was impatient to get this thing under way, even more to get it out of the way. He had not been looking forward to this little expedition, and now he was actually there, he just wanted it over and done with.

  As he waited, he found his gaze wandering. This was the new shopping mall, a great cavern of trade and commerce for the comfort and convenience of the local populace and, indeed, anyone else it could tempt in through its automatic doors. At least, that’s what the owners would have people believe. To the four of them, it was something else. It was somewhere warm to hang out in the winter without having to spend any money. It was somewhere to meet up before sidling off to the cinema and, hopefully, a film they really weren’t old enough to be watching. And it was somewhere to just stop and stare and sometimes laugh at the buying public as it went about its business of running up huge credit card debts. But today, it wasn’t any of these. Today, it was the starting point of a conspiracy. The talking was over. This was it, the start of everything. He only hoped the outcome was going to be worth the effort, that’s all.

  ‘Good morning, Alex.’

  He started, glanced round. ‘Oh, hi, Spike. You made it, then.’

  ‘It would appear so. Are the others not here yet?’

  ‘Nah. Wouldn’t expect them to be, either. Jon’s probably not up yet, Eddie’s had to do his paper round and Tony’s probably got caught up in another running battle with his sister.’

  ‘Ah, right. Do you suppose they’ll be long?’

  ‘Shouldn’t be. Except maybe for Jon. Likes his bed, does Jon.’

  ‘Don’t we all,’ said Spike ruefully, ‘don’t we all?’

  ‘Yeah, like you say, don’t we all?’

  They fell into an awkward silence. This was the first time he had been alone with their new friend, and now that he was, he didn’t quite know what to say to him.

  ‘Er…are you still up for all this?’

  Spike shrugged. ‘Why shouldn’t I be? It’s a good plan.’

  ‘Yeah, but you ain’t…you know…’

  Spike didn’t answer, just shrugged again as though to say that he didn’t really need a reason to be involved, he just wanted to be. Al sneaked a sidelong look at his friend, seemed to be trying to understand something.

  ‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘why are you hanging out with us guys?’

  ‘At the risk of sounding flippant, I believe you invited me to.’

  ‘Yeah but why? I mean, I’d have thought once you’d done your time at our school, you’d be wanting to be back with your own friends, come the weekend.’

  ‘And so I might. It just so happens that I enjoy your company.’ He paused, looked a little reflective. ‘Being at a private school can be pretty constricting at times. One is expected to uphold certain standards of behaviour, follow certain rules and all that. It’s really quite refreshing to be conducting oneself in a manner not befitting a student of Chapworthy College for a change.’

  ‘Yeah? Is it really that bad?’

  ‘You wouldn’t know it.’

  Al let go a low whistle. ‘And I thought we had it rough. Sounds like they regard you as college boy first and human being second.’

  ‘I’d never thought of it in that way,’ said Spike wistfully. ‘But you know, you’re right. You’re absolutely right…’

  Suddenly, there seemed little left to say. Al looked up.

  ‘They’re here,’ he said, and they were, wending their way through the throng towards them. ‘You’re late!’ he yelled.

  ‘Only by a few minutes,’ Tony yelled back.

  ‘That’s still late. Did anyone bring any money?’

  ‘Just a moment,’ said Spike, ‘I thought I was providing the finance for this little jaunt.’

  ‘Sorry but we can’t let you do that,’ said Al. ‘So we decided to scrounge what we could, pool it and see what we ended up with.’

  ‘Oh? And when was this decided?’

  ‘Last night. After you went home. We took a gang vote on it.’

  ‘Really! And why, since I am apparently a member of said gang, was this vote taken in my absence?’

  ‘That’s democracy for you.’ Al turned, faced the rest of them expectantly. ‘So, anyone bring any money?’

  ‘A bit,’ said Eddie sheepishly as he held out a 50p piece. ‘Not much.’

  ‘Every little helps,’ Al smiled. ‘Anyone else?’

  ‘I raided my piggy bank,’ said Jon. ‘Here. Two quid.’

  ‘You’ve got a piggy bank?’

  ‘Yeah. Why not?’

  Look,’ Al said patiently, ‘I don’t know how to break this to you but piggy banks at your age ain’t exactly what you would call cool.’

  ‘Yeah, well, me nan’s got some strange ideas about birthday presents. Figure it from that.’

  ‘Oh. Right. What about you, Tony? You raid your piggy bank?’

  ‘No, I raided my sister’s.’

  ‘Even better! How much did you get?’

  He handed over a five-pound note. The others looked in horror.

  ‘A whole fiver?’ said Jon. ‘Man, are you ever dead!’

  ‘Hey, she’s got to catch me first.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Al, ‘I managed to scrounge another couple of quid from me mum so that’s makes…£9.50 by my reckoning.’

  ‘Er…what about me?’ said Spike. ‘Shouldn’t I be making a contribution?’

  ‘Nah, don’t worry about it.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Look, if you want to do something, just buy us all a Coke after we’ve come out of the shop. We’re probably gonna need it. But this part is down to us, okay?’

  ‘Well, if you insist.’ He looked round cheerfully at them all. ‘So, gentlemen, shall we be getting on with it?’

  They should indeed be getting on with it, they knew they should. But at the very suggestion of actually having to carry out their plan, they seemed a little uneasy, were looking down at the floor and shuffling their feet.

  ‘Have we got to do it just yet?’ said Jon.

  ‘Well, no, I suppose we have all afternoon. But I thought you wanted to get this over and done with.’

  ‘Yeah, we do,’ said Al. ‘It’s just that—’

  ‘Ah. Right,’ said Spike, understanding. ‘Well, what shall we do in the meantime?’

  No one seemed to have any suggestions. Apart from the actual buying of this stuff, they hadn’t considered what they might do for the rest of the afternoon, the bulk of the afternoon. Then Spike was speaking again, offering a way out that saved face for everyone.

  ‘How about that Coke?’

  Four pairs of eyes seemed to brighten.

  ‘You serious?’ said Al.

  ‘Why not? It was suggested of me and I did agree. So, how about it?’

  ‘You’re on! Where shall we go?’

  That was one question that was not difficult to answer. In their deliberations for the design of this new shopping centre, the architects had thoughtfully provided room for five coffee bars or the like so they were not short of choice. Indeed, in their various forays there, they had managed to sample each one and had finally decided that the Italian place was best, if only because, no matter how rowdy they tried to make themselves, the counter staff always smiled, and the girl who cleared and cleaned the tables wore a very short skirt.

  So the Italian place it was, and they soon found themselves clustered round a single table really only designed to take two, three at a stretch but hey, who was counting? On the table were five tall glasses of Coke. Also on the table were five small plates, each bearing a large slice of chocolate fudge cake. This was not something that had been in the agreement but no one was about to argue…

  ‘Thanks for this, Spike,’ said Al as he sank his fork into chocolate heaven for a second time. The others mumbled agreement through full mouths.

  ‘Not at all. It just looked so del
icious lying there in the counter display, I simply couldn’t resist it. Couldn’t eat alone, not the done thing.’

  ‘Still cost you a bit, though.’

  ‘I can afford it. And anyway, what’s the point of having money if you don’t spend it?’

  ‘Right enough. I just wish I had some of it to spend in the first place.’

  ‘Oh, it’s not so hot, having money,’ said Spike. ‘You can buy things with it, yes, but half the stuff you buy you don’t really need, and very little of what you buy actually makes you a better person.’

  ‘So you don’t hold much with money, then.’

  ‘Not really. Look at it this way, it’s never been a problem so its acquisition has never figured highly on my list of life’s priorities.’

  ‘It does on most people’s list of life’s priorities, I think,’ said Al wistfully.

  ‘Indeed,’ said Spike, and he added, muttering: ‘Especially my father.’

  ‘My dad wants to win the Lottery on a triple rollover week an’ be a multi-multi-multi-millionaire,’ said Jon. ‘That’s his dream.’

  ‘And what would he do with such money?’ said Spike. ‘He certainly couldn’t spend it in a single lifetime.’

  ‘I don’t think he looks at it that way. I think he just likes the idea of having it.’

  ‘And like I say, what’s the point of having it if you don’t spend it?’

  Jon said nothing, just shrugged: what his father wanted from life was beyond his understanding and, indeed, caring.

  ‘So how much do you reckon is enough money, Spike?’ said Al.

  He smiled. ‘There’s an old saying,’ he said, ‘Enough is as good as a feast. And it’s true. If you have enough to live on, that’s all you really need. Any more is just plain greed. I have my allowance, I spend what I have, I don’t go yearning for more.’

  ‘You’re lucky getting pocket money,’ said Eddie. ‘I have to do a paper round, an’ even then, I have to give most of what I earn to me mum.’

  ‘I didn’t know that!’ said Al, genuinely surprised. ‘But why? Does your mum make you?’

  ‘No, she don’t make me,’ said Eddie, faintly embarrassed. ‘I just like to help her out with money. Let’s face it, me dad ain’t much use when it comes to paying bills.’

  Al nodded ruefully. ‘Maybe I ought to give you back what you gave me.’

  ‘No, don’t! I’m part of this gang an’ I’ll do my bit.’

  Al wanted to respond, to argue the point, but he knew that to do so would only cause his friend further embarrassment. ‘Okay, Eddie,’ he said gently. ‘Have it your way.’

  ‘So,’ said Spike, ‘have you decided which of you is to draw the short straw?’ Four faces stopped stuffing themselves to look at him. ‘Which of you is to do the actual buying of this sewing equipment?’ he added helpfully.

  ‘Not yet,’ said Al. ‘I think Tony should go, it’s his sister’s shop.’

  ‘I think Eddie should go,’ said Tony, ‘he brought the least money.’

  ‘I think Jon should go,’ said Eddie, ‘he’s the one who wanted to put it off most.’

  ‘I think Al should go,’ said Jon, ‘he’s the leader of the gang.’

  ‘No decision, then,’ Spike said dryly.

  ‘We could have a gang vote on it,’ said Al.

  ‘With everyone voting for everyone else, I doubt you’d get very far. And given that, might I make a suggestion?’

  ‘Fire away.’

  ‘We all go.’

  ‘What? You mean…all of us!’

  ‘Why not? Mutual support and all that. And it’ll certainly get you out of your decision-making predicament.’

  ‘Sound idea,’ said Al. ‘Okay, gang vote. Who’s for doing what Spike says an’ all of us go?’

  Five forks were suddenly being waved in the air.

  ‘The forks have it, methinks,’ said Spike.

  ‘Yeah, vote carried,’ said Al. ‘We all go.’

  ‘I just hope nobody sees us,’ Jon grumbled.

  ‘They won’t,’ said Al more confidently than he felt. ‘They won’t.’