twelve-year-old girl within and felt very old.
‘Why did you leave teaching anyway?’ she asked, as she dressed. ‘I’ve got a friend still in the sixth form. She said you just stopped turning up one day.’
‘I’d had enough,’ he told her. ‘Burnt out.’
‘I’m glad that’s all it was,’ she said, making him ashamed. ‘You know, there are stories going round, but I never believe gossip.’
Whatever the girl had seen in him, she’d exorcised it in that one night. When he phoned the number she’d given him, hoping for an encore, Nick found that it didn’t exist.
Both brothers found women to dance alongside, but neither pulled. It had taken Nick until he was thirty to develop the confidence required to pull at nightclubs – only for him to find that one-night stands were rarely exciting enough to justify the effort involved. He and Joe left Rock City at quarter to two, just before it closed. Cane Cars were fully booked, so they queued to take a black cab home.
This evening had confirmed what Nick had been expecting. His old world was no longer there for him. He was tainted, discredited, an embarrassment to all concerned. The only way to live with that kind of humiliation was to drop out of sight. Under the terms of his probation, he couldn’t leave the city, not unless he got a job elsewhere. His probation officer said there wasn’t much chance of him finding a job anywhere. Not soon, anyway.
That left the black economy or, if he was lucky, the grey one. Maybe now was the time to ask Joe a favour. Once they were back in the house and Joe was skinning up, Nick decided to chance it.
‘You’re always short of drivers after closing time,’ he said.
‘Yeah, the buggers can pick and choose. Some of them won’t even do evenings.’
‘What are the chances of me doing some driving for you? Sharing a cab.’
Joe gave him a lazy grin. ‘Are you tapping your little brother up for a job?’
‘What does it sound like?’
‘Oh, man . . .’ Joe took a hit on the joint. He smoked half an inch of the spliff before speaking again. ‘We can’t employ ex-cons. That’s the law. I’d lose my license.’
‘If I wore a pair of clear glasses, I could pass as you.’
Joe laughed at this, but Nick could tell it made him uncomfortable.
‘I don’t see you as a taxi driver,’ Joe said, after passing Nick the joint.
‘I can’t think what else I could do at the moment.’
‘You’d need to find somebody willing to share their cab with you. Generally, if two drivers share the same car, I charge them one and a half times the normal fee, seeing as they can’t both be working peak times. But the council would never license you, so it’d have to be off the books.’
‘You must have other drivers who moonlight, fiddle their papers,’ Nick argued. ‘I’d be careful not to land you in it. If I got caught out, I’d say I nicked your ID, did a private deal.’ He got up and poured them both a Jack Daniels from the bottle he’d bought with his first dole cheque. ‘Night cap.’
Joe grinned. ‘S’good to have you back, mate.’ He paused and grimaced, as though making a difficult decision. ‘Tell you what, I’ll see Bob when he’s next on. He doesn’t like to work long hours, and, if you made it worth his while, he might be up for some extra cash.’
7
O n Monday, Nick turned in at the cab office just before three, hungover. He had been drinking with Joe for the second night running. After all those years off the booze, Nick wasn’t used to it. His brother had been at the office since nine, and showed no sign of wear. He was chatting to the daytime switch operator, Nasreen, a Pakistani in her early twenties.
‘Nas, this is my brother, Nick,’ Joe said. ‘He might be doing a little work here on the q.t.’
‘Like that guy who . . .?’
‘Right.’ Joe didn’t let her finish. ‘No questions asked, but I want you to look after him.’
‘My pleasure,’ Nas said, flashing Nick a
‘Why did you leave teaching anyway?’ she asked, as she dressed. ‘I’ve got a friend still in the sixth form. She said you just stopped turning up one day.’
‘I’d had enough,’ he told her. ‘Burnt out.’
‘I’m glad that’s all it was,’ she said, making him ashamed. ‘You know, there are stories going round, but I never believe gossip.’
Whatever the girl had seen in him, she’d exorcised it in that one night. When he phoned the number she’d given him, hoping for an encore, Nick found that it didn’t exist.
Both brothers found women to dance alongside, but neither pulled. It had taken Nick until he was thirty to develop the confidence required to pull at nightclubs – only for him to find that one-night stands were rarely exciting enough to justify the effort involved. He and Joe left Rock City at quarter to two, just before it closed. Cane Cars were fully booked, so they queued to take a black cab home.
This evening had confirmed what Nick had been expecting. His old world was no longer there for him. He was tainted, discredited, an embarrassment to all concerned. The only way to live with that kind of humiliation was to drop out of sight. Under the terms of his probation, he couldn’t leave the city, not unless he got a job elsewhere. His probation officer said there wasn’t much chance of him finding a job anywhere. Not soon, anyway.
That left the black economy or, if he was lucky, the grey one. Maybe now was the time to ask Joe a favour. Once they were back in the house and Joe was skinning up, Nick decided to chance it.
‘You’re always short of drivers after closing time,’ he said.
‘Yeah, the buggers can pick and choose. Some of them won’t even do evenings.’
‘What are the chances of me doing some driving for you? Sharing a cab.’
Joe gave him a lazy grin. ‘Are you tapping your little brother up for a job?’
‘What does it sound like?’
‘Oh, man . . .’ Joe took a hit on the joint. He smoked half an inch of the spliff before speaking again. ‘We can’t employ ex-cons. That’s the law. I’d lose my license.’
‘If I wore a pair of clear glasses, I could pass as you.’
Joe laughed at this, but Nick could tell it made him uncomfortable.
‘I don’t see you as a taxi driver,’ Joe said, after passing Nick the joint.
‘I can’t think what else I could do at the moment.’
‘You’d need to find somebody willing to share their cab with you. Generally, if two drivers share the same car, I charge them one and a half times the normal fee, seeing as they can’t both be working peak times. But the council would never license you, so it’d have to be off the books.’
‘You must have other drivers who moonlight, fiddle their papers,’ Nick argued. ‘I’d be careful not to land you in it. If I got caught out, I’d say I nicked your ID, did a private deal.’ He got up and poured them both a Jack Daniels from the bottle he’d bought with his first dole cheque. ‘Night cap.’
Joe grinned. ‘S’good to have you back, mate.’ He paused and grimaced, as though making a difficult decision. ‘Tell you what, I’ll see Bob when he’s next on. He doesn’t like to work long hours, and, if you made it worth his while, he might be up for some extra cash.’
7
O n Monday, Nick turned in at the cab office just before three, hungover. He had been drinking with Joe for the second night running. After all those years off the booze, Nick wasn’t used to it. His brother had been at the office since nine, and showed no sign of wear. He was chatting to the daytime switch operator, Nasreen, a Pakistani in her early twenties.
‘Nas, this is my brother, Nick,’ Joe said. ‘He might be doing a little work here on the q.t.’
‘Like that guy who . . .?’
‘Right.’ Joe didn’t let her finish. ‘No questions asked, but I want you to look after him.’
‘My pleasure,’ Nas said, flashing Nick a
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