Just trying something different here. I guess I need to continue it. Let me know if you think you’d like to hear more of these two. Oh and it’s pretty adult in the language stakes, just so you know….
Mia Shusighs stopped by the rear door to the charity shop, and checked each way. Satisfied she was alone, she bent to the step and hefted the black plastic sack up to her chest, growling at its awkward shape. She half-staggered, half-shuffled along the narrow passage to where Paige Turner waited with their trusty shopping trolley, in a pool of yellowy light from the street lamp.
‘What you got, Six?’ Paige asked as she checked left and right, satisfying herself the high street remained dead.
‘I hope it’s worth it. Smells odd.’
‘Yeah, well, let’s get a shift on. Come on, stop faffing about. I’m freezing my arse off here.’
Mia pushed the bag over the lip of the trolley while Paige lent her weight to stop it tipping over.
As she pushed it towards the arches, Paige grumbled, ‘If that’s a dead fox, I will kill you.’
‘Yeah, sure.’ Mia pulled her coat to her, tugging the cord that tried and failed to keep it closed tighter. ‘If it’s a coat, then it’s mine.’
Paige, who rarely noticed the cold, and always wore her trademark leather mini whatever the weather, sniffed. ‘Depends if Jonjo will buy. You ain’t getting quality.’ She pushed the trolley across the cobbles that separated the pavement from the entrance to the railway arches and aimed it at the second arch. The door was propped shut with a brick which Mia kicked away.
While Mia went to the little grate at the back to see if she could encourage some heat from the embers, Paige dug out her knife, an old stained sheaf knife that looked like shit but had saved her several times. She slipped the blade through the string and pinged it free, tipping the contents inside the trolley.
Assorted clothes spewed out: T shirts, pants, a couple of stained tops and then a small briefcase. Paige, who had been digging at her nails with the knife and trying to remember whose the old dried blood was, stopped and snatched it from the heap. ‘Ah ha.’ She weighed it in her hands. ‘Something in here.’ She tried the catch: locked and then yanked at it, without success. She carried it across the scuffed concrete floor to the pallet that held her sleeping bag and squatted down, inserting the knife tip to try and prise it open.
Mia gave up on the fire and shuffled to the trolley, digging through the clothes. Maybe there was something she could nab to keep her warm before Paige saw. Paige wouldn’t let her keep anything she deemed quality; that had to go the Jonjo in exchange for some weed or, maybe, if it was real quality, some blow.
Paige rocked back as the catch snapped open and the flap came loose. ‘Here we go, my beauty.’ She stuck her mittened hand into the front section, curled her fingers around a wad of something and pulled it out. As she focused on her prize, she stared, then froze and finally toppled back, laughter creasing her lips. ‘Oh. My. God.’ She rolled onto her front and held the wad towards Mia. ‘Sodding lottery, Six. We are fucking goddesses, yeah?’
Mia stood by the trolley, squinting at Paige’s hand. It looked like a bundle of red Euros. Paige pulled it close to her face, riffling it with her fingers. ‘One hundreds, Six. Must be five grand here. We are going to fly, my girl.’
As if struck by a thought she twisted and scrabbled for the brief case, her hand dipping inside. Her breath caught as she pulled out more bundles; two, then six and finally fifteen. Paige swallowed as she sat back hard, her scrappy mini riding up, exposing a bruised blotched thigh. ‘Shit. There’s thousands here.’ She looked at Mia, who hadn’t moved, just stared at Paige. ‘You not hear? Thousands. What’s that about?’
Mia lifted her hand. It held a small cotton bag which she tipped upside down. A grey lump dropped to the floor where it clanged and bounced towards Paige before stopping a few feet away.
Paige goggled. A snub nosed gun, about six inches long with a flat handle pointed at her. She dragged her terrified gaze from the gun and looked at Mia. ‘Oh shit, Six. What have we done?’