Trader Jack -The Story of Jack Miner (The Story of Jack Miner Series) by Neil Behrmann
Authors: Neil Behrmann
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the moonlight. Jazz and I forced our way against the tide of people coming out of the concert area. We slipped inside. The audience had cleared most of the rubbish and the cleaners were placing the remainder into large black bags and huge bins. I asked for a job, but the cleaner who was in charge, just patted Jazz and shook his head. The leftovers from the food and drink stalls went to the staff or were sold at very cheap prices.
I managed to get a large bottle of coke, a packet of crisps and some chicken and bacon sandwiches for a pound. Jazz managed to find some cold meat, some bread and other scraps of food. Luckily someone had left a blanket. Closer to the pond that overlooked the empty stage, I found a ground sheet. We left the concert area and joined some people who were walking in the darkness up an avenue lined with trees. A road to the right led to a clearing. Helped by moonlight I walked to some thick trees, laid down the groundsheet, covered Jazz and myself with the blanket and fell asleep.
* * *
I woke up suddenly. Jazz was snarling. A black retriever was sniffing us. It was a bright summer morning. The place was full of dog walkers and joggers. I was starving and gobbled up the crisps and shared the sandwiches with Jazz. Afterwards, I covered the blanket in the groundsheet and hid them in the bushes. Then we wandered down a winding hill until we came to some ponds. We walked past the first pond with swans and ducks. Fishermen were trying their luck, but it didn't seem as if they had caught anything. We ambled on until we came across a second pond, fairly close to the first. Men were diving off the steps of a wooden platform into the brown water and several were sunbathing on a large raft in the middle of the water.
I tied Jazz to the fence and tread the narrow path that led to a changing room without a roof. A few men were sunbathing naked and some were changing for their morning swim or having a shower. At last I could have my first proper wash in two days. The water was ice cold, but it felt good.
Breakfast, a walk and shower had stopped me thinking about myself. But as we continued our walk, I thought of Sandy and the gloom came back. I was a complete and utter failure. People walked past us, but I didn't even notice them. I was clean, but still felt uncomfortable in my smelly clothes.
A cafeteria, near some tennis courts and a children's playground with large carved wooden animals, wasn't open. So we kept on going, southwards, out of the Heath, towards Central London. After aimlessly crossing a few streets I came across a market with lots of stalls and customers. A T-shirt and two pairs of boxers cost £4.80, leaving £4.20. Every penny had to be counted. That's how tight it was. I bought a couple of dog biscuits for Jazz in a pet shop on the corner of the road.
For some reason I was mesmerised by the goldfish and the tropical fish swimming in the glass tank. Up and down, backwards and forwards in their small aquarium. I must have been there for ages until a shop assistant shouted: 'Either buy some fish or leave. You can't hang around here.'
I looked at her blankly, ran out and shuffled through the market feeling depressed and lonely. My life was awful.
Even if I was going to get £10,000 for my shares, Baton would probably find me, take the money and leave me with nothing. I was so down, that I forgot that Jazz was walking alongside me. Didn't even notice him foul the pavement. Dad had taught me to pick it up, but this time I couldn't be bothered.
It was late morning. I was getting hungry again and bought a loaf of bread and some milk at a small supermarket. There were some newspapers there. The Sunday Telegraph's front page headline was: 'Russian Banker found hanging from Charing Cross Bridge.' It was getting hot, but I went cold. I picked up the newspaper and quickly read the story.
The article said that in the early hours of Saturday morning, the police had found a body dangling
I managed to get a large bottle of coke, a packet of crisps and some chicken and bacon sandwiches for a pound. Jazz managed to find some cold meat, some bread and other scraps of food. Luckily someone had left a blanket. Closer to the pond that overlooked the empty stage, I found a ground sheet. We left the concert area and joined some people who were walking in the darkness up an avenue lined with trees. A road to the right led to a clearing. Helped by moonlight I walked to some thick trees, laid down the groundsheet, covered Jazz and myself with the blanket and fell asleep.
* * *
I woke up suddenly. Jazz was snarling. A black retriever was sniffing us. It was a bright summer morning. The place was full of dog walkers and joggers. I was starving and gobbled up the crisps and shared the sandwiches with Jazz. Afterwards, I covered the blanket in the groundsheet and hid them in the bushes. Then we wandered down a winding hill until we came to some ponds. We walked past the first pond with swans and ducks. Fishermen were trying their luck, but it didn't seem as if they had caught anything. We ambled on until we came across a second pond, fairly close to the first. Men were diving off the steps of a wooden platform into the brown water and several were sunbathing on a large raft in the middle of the water.
I tied Jazz to the fence and tread the narrow path that led to a changing room without a roof. A few men were sunbathing naked and some were changing for their morning swim or having a shower. At last I could have my first proper wash in two days. The water was ice cold, but it felt good.
Breakfast, a walk and shower had stopped me thinking about myself. But as we continued our walk, I thought of Sandy and the gloom came back. I was a complete and utter failure. People walked past us, but I didn't even notice them. I was clean, but still felt uncomfortable in my smelly clothes.
A cafeteria, near some tennis courts and a children's playground with large carved wooden animals, wasn't open. So we kept on going, southwards, out of the Heath, towards Central London. After aimlessly crossing a few streets I came across a market with lots of stalls and customers. A T-shirt and two pairs of boxers cost £4.80, leaving £4.20. Every penny had to be counted. That's how tight it was. I bought a couple of dog biscuits for Jazz in a pet shop on the corner of the road.
For some reason I was mesmerised by the goldfish and the tropical fish swimming in the glass tank. Up and down, backwards and forwards in their small aquarium. I must have been there for ages until a shop assistant shouted: 'Either buy some fish or leave. You can't hang around here.'
I looked at her blankly, ran out and shuffled through the market feeling depressed and lonely. My life was awful.
Even if I was going to get £10,000 for my shares, Baton would probably find me, take the money and leave me with nothing. I was so down, that I forgot that Jazz was walking alongside me. Didn't even notice him foul the pavement. Dad had taught me to pick it up, but this time I couldn't be bothered.
It was late morning. I was getting hungry again and bought a loaf of bread and some milk at a small supermarket. There were some newspapers there. The Sunday Telegraph's front page headline was: 'Russian Banker found hanging from Charing Cross Bridge.' It was getting hot, but I went cold. I picked up the newspaper and quickly read the story.
The article said that in the early hours of Saturday morning, the police had found a body dangling
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