didn’t want them to think he was going soft, but how could he explain what his intuition was telling him without sounding like a complete nut-job? They would think he was bailing out on them, and who could blame them for thinking that; after all, they were all more than aware of what this Jerell Morgan was capable of.
Wiping away the sweat trickling down his forehead, Gary tried to remain calm. The waitress came over, and he asked for a full English breakfast and a pint of orange juice. As soon as she had left, he wished he hadn’t ordered it; his appetite had gone.
The others would be at the cafe in about ten minutes, and to show he was still in control Gary had wanted to be the first to arrive. He had wanted to use the extra time to think things through and get his head straight.
He was glad when Shay walked through the door a minute or so later, as he realised that the more he sat on his tod, the more time he had to think things over and the more he was becoming certain that he was losing his nerve.
“You alright, mate?” Shay asked, barely waiting for an answer, continuing to talk as he picked up a menu: “Tell you what, I’m bloody starving. I only got home about three hours ago. I met a right sort last night. She helped me work up a nice little appetite, if you know what I mean.” Shay smiled cheekily at Gary, not realising the annoyance that he was causing nor picking up on the fact that things clearly were far from “alright”.
Gary shook his head, although Shay didn't notice as he was scrutinising the menu, his rumbling belly the main thing on his mind.
Gary was fuming; they had a crucial job to do today, a job that they had planned for the best part of a week, and Shay had decided to spend the night before shagging some bird until the early hours, treating their plan like it was some kind of joke.
The waitress came over and put a plate of steaming hot food down in front of Gary. He pushed it over to Shay. “Here, you may as well have mine.”
Shay picked up a fork and then, giving the waitress a wink, asked her to bring over a pot of tea. Barely looking up, as he shovelled the food into his mouth, and with the yolk of the fried egg dripping down his chin, Shay was oblivious to Gary’s anger building across the table. Shay didn’t have a clue what they were about to go up against, by the looks of it, and once again Gary wondered if it was only him that had thought any of this through. It took every ounce of his restraint to stop him from leaning over the rickety cafe table and grabbing Shay by the scruff of his selfish, scrawny little neck.
Seeing Jamie and Gavin arriving, Gary tried to shrug off his mood.
Jamie, taking a seat next to Shay, and as always quick on the ball, picked up on the atmosphere. “You alright, Gary?” A frown was etched on his boss’s forehead; he looked stressed. It had taken a lot of persuading by Jamie for Gary to go along with this plan; he wondered now if Gary was once again having second thoughts.
“Mmm, that looks handsome.” Gavin said as he leant over the table and took a piece of fried bread from Shay’s plate, before dipping it in ketchup.
“Oi, get your own bleeding grub, Gav, I’m bloody starving,” Shay protested, knocking Gavin’s hand away.
“Yeah, I can tell you’re hungry, mate, you’re eating that fry-up like you ain’t ever seen a plate of food before,” Gavin replied, put out that he would now have to wait for his own food to arrive while Shay tucked in greedily in front of him.
Rolling his eyes at Jamie, as if the two Muppets next to them had just said it all, Gary forced a smile. “See what I’ve had to put up with? Old gannet-guts here has been up all night shagging some poor bloody girl, and now he's acting like he’s been invited out for a friggin’ three-course meal.” Gary tried to make light of the situation; he knew that he had to put on a front and reassure his men if they were going to go ahead as planned.
Wiping away the sweat trickling down his forehead, Gary tried to remain calm. The waitress came over, and he asked for a full English breakfast and a pint of orange juice. As soon as she had left, he wished he hadn’t ordered it; his appetite had gone.
The others would be at the cafe in about ten minutes, and to show he was still in control Gary had wanted to be the first to arrive. He had wanted to use the extra time to think things through and get his head straight.
He was glad when Shay walked through the door a minute or so later, as he realised that the more he sat on his tod, the more time he had to think things over and the more he was becoming certain that he was losing his nerve.
“You alright, mate?” Shay asked, barely waiting for an answer, continuing to talk as he picked up a menu: “Tell you what, I’m bloody starving. I only got home about three hours ago. I met a right sort last night. She helped me work up a nice little appetite, if you know what I mean.” Shay smiled cheekily at Gary, not realising the annoyance that he was causing nor picking up on the fact that things clearly were far from “alright”.
Gary shook his head, although Shay didn't notice as he was scrutinising the menu, his rumbling belly the main thing on his mind.
Gary was fuming; they had a crucial job to do today, a job that they had planned for the best part of a week, and Shay had decided to spend the night before shagging some bird until the early hours, treating their plan like it was some kind of joke.
The waitress came over and put a plate of steaming hot food down in front of Gary. He pushed it over to Shay. “Here, you may as well have mine.”
Shay picked up a fork and then, giving the waitress a wink, asked her to bring over a pot of tea. Barely looking up, as he shovelled the food into his mouth, and with the yolk of the fried egg dripping down his chin, Shay was oblivious to Gary’s anger building across the table. Shay didn’t have a clue what they were about to go up against, by the looks of it, and once again Gary wondered if it was only him that had thought any of this through. It took every ounce of his restraint to stop him from leaning over the rickety cafe table and grabbing Shay by the scruff of his selfish, scrawny little neck.
Seeing Jamie and Gavin arriving, Gary tried to shrug off his mood.
Jamie, taking a seat next to Shay, and as always quick on the ball, picked up on the atmosphere. “You alright, Gary?” A frown was etched on his boss’s forehead; he looked stressed. It had taken a lot of persuading by Jamie for Gary to go along with this plan; he wondered now if Gary was once again having second thoughts.
“Mmm, that looks handsome.” Gavin said as he leant over the table and took a piece of fried bread from Shay’s plate, before dipping it in ketchup.
“Oi, get your own bleeding grub, Gav, I’m bloody starving,” Shay protested, knocking Gavin’s hand away.
“Yeah, I can tell you’re hungry, mate, you’re eating that fry-up like you ain’t ever seen a plate of food before,” Gavin replied, put out that he would now have to wait for his own food to arrive while Shay tucked in greedily in front of him.
Rolling his eyes at Jamie, as if the two Muppets next to them had just said it all, Gary forced a smile. “See what I’ve had to put up with? Old gannet-guts here has been up all night shagging some poor bloody girl, and now he's acting like he’s been invited out for a friggin’ three-course meal.” Gary tried to make light of the situation; he knew that he had to put on a front and reassure his men if they were going to go ahead as planned.
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