4.1
By the end
of the following day her back account had reverted to it's normal state of
being in the red, just not as much as it usually was, although she'd had a text
from the bank to tell her that since she'd managed to clear her overdraft
yesterday, they had reduced her maximum down to five hundred euros, rather than
the thousand she'd become accustomed to. A bit of a blow, since she'd have to
procure the means of supporting herself a little faster than expected, but that
was a problem for tomorrow.
For now,
she had two sets of sheets, a new pillow and duvet set, and a false wall in her
bedroom comprised of two curtain poles fixed to the ceiling with second-hand
drapes cutting off her bed and sleeping area from the rest of the room, which
was now her studio, until she could negotiate something more spacious and
permanent. She'd also purchased two old double sheets of dubious heritage for
use as drop cloths, and three pre-prepared canvasses from a EuroWorld on
Lichfield Street with an orange banner that proclaimed 'Closing Down:
Everything Must Go' and ten sheets of A1 watercolour paper of, if not the best
quality, at least decent. She'd also bought three tins of acrylic primer and
scavenged several pieces of plywood from a skip at the back of the mosque on
Staveley Road, which would be dry and ready to paint on by morning.
There was
a knock on her door and Paul called through. "Do you want some chips? I
figured you'd be hungry so I got some extra on the way home."
"Sure.
Thanks." She wiped her hands on one corner of the drop cloth and propped
her brush in a water jug she'd made by cutting the top off a beer can she'd
picked up off te street. She opened the door and was greeted by what must
surely be the scent of Heaven: Lukewarm chips with a generous dousing of salt
and vinegar. "What time is it? I've lost track."
"After
midnight." Tom grinned and handed her a wrapped packet. "There's a
sausage in that one, or you can have the one with a fishcake, if you
prefer."
"Ha.
A choice between two mystery meats." She smiled. "I'm good with a
sausage, thanks. That was really thoughtful of you."
"It's
no trouble. It's just the leftovers when they close. They're quite fastidious
about throwing away everything that's been out, That's how they've kept their
five-star rating for so long."
"How
did you end up getting the freebies?"
"Common
decency. I went in once when there was a druggie holding them up for the money
in the till. I intervened and Joe, that's the owner, swore I'd always have food
whenever he had spare."
"You
stopped a robbery?" Roisin tore a finger-length hole in her packet and
pressed her nose to the gap as they walked toward the kitchen. Her synapses
fired faster than they had all day. "Wait! Doesn't that make you a
bone-fide hero?"
He
laughed. "I got my fifteen minutes of fame. I got my picture in the
Derbyshire Times and a nice letter signed by the mayor."
"Good
for you." She pulled out a chip and held it up as a salute. "So are
you a black belt in Kung-Fu or something?"
"Only
if you consider being in the right place at the right time with a chisel hammer
in your pocket a martial art." He took a large bite of his fish cake and
chewed for a moment before fishing a transparent bone out of his mouth. He
wiped his fingers on the edge of the chip paper and swallowed the mouthful he
had. "The police had me in custody for three hours on suspicion of being in charge of a deadly
weapon, and it was only because I had stone dust on my shirt that I could prove
I'd been carving that day that they didn't charge me with aggravated assault on
a member of the public." He pulled out another chip and waved it at her.
"That and the Joe's corroboration that I came in while the robbery was in
progress."
"That's
seriously impressive." She broke off a piece of the sausage and chewed it,
relishing the crisp, albeit only lukewarm, batter. "You could dine out on
that story."
"Which
is exactly what we're doing right now." Paul grinned again and held up a
long chip, still steaming from the insulation of others of its kind."
"Honestly,
you've no idea how much I needed this." She pulled out a matching one and
they tapped them together, as if they were clinking glasses of the finest Irish
malt. "Cheers."
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