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| Spare Change | |
| By alastair79 | ||||||||||||
| 23 May 2006 | ||||||||||||
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Unsure, some sort of modern day Robin Hood tale I suppose. Does it work? Alastair. Massimo Takagi hid in his favourite bolthole at the train station, waiting for the police to realise he’d evaded them again. This made three times this morning; to protect and serve my arse he thought with a smirk. “Spare a little change please sir”, a voice from the platform floated through the grate above his head. “Why don’t you get a job”, came the typical male response. “I need to eat, please sir”. “Need to sort your dealer out more likely. I had to start at the bottom and work my way up. You young people today, no work ethic”. Although Massimo couldn’t see them but the picture was clear in his head as he listened. Young girl, probably late teens, dirty and thin, hungry and cold, huddled under a blanket on the concrete platform. Older man, probably mid fifties, fat and pink with a tailored suit and handmade shoes, looking down his slightly upturned nose at her. “I was never given a bean when I was your age, had to pull myself up by my bootlaces and look at me now”. Massimo slowly shook his head; he knew a silver spoon accent when he heard one. More than likely worked at daddy’s firm, started on fifty grand a year and now running the place. Probably only rides the train because he likes to see the real workers off for another busy day safe in the knowledge he’ll just sit at his desk and use the company Internet to look for porn all day. In fact, Massimo reckoned, if there weren’t so many people around he probably drag her off for a private lesson in life. “I don’t do drugs sir, but I am starving and if you could spare some change I could buy some soup”, the voice was pitiful and Massimo could almost hear the Vulchers circling. “Well that may be so, but I can’t give you anything as my wallet was stolen by one of you urchins ten minutes ago. Still, even if I did have it, that’s my money which I worked very hard for, why should I give it to a lay about like you?” Massimo realised with absolute certainty that he had this mans wallet in his jacket pocket. He pulled it out; the dark tan leather gave off the unmistakable woft of opulence and bulged unseemly from the contents. Ten brand new fifty pound notes made comfortable bedfellows within and Massimo quickly pulled the candy from its wrapper and began to count. “You have to learn that there’s no such thing as a free lunch in this town, now it just so happens that I have a little loose coin in my pocket and it maybe possible that you could do me a service in return for it”. “Sir, I’m not a prostitute”, the voice shook a little, as if she knew that it was a mistake to even consider but couldn’t help her mind from reasoning the proposal, food verses self respect. Massimo grimaced at the money in his hand, resigned to the fact that he wasn’t going to keep it. Too soft for his own good his sister would have said, but sometimes you have to spread the wealth. He moved directly under the storm grate and looked up and through to the stations vaulted roof. The art deco metal work and greening glass made an extravagant statement about a long gone era. “Excuse me Miss”, Massimo called up to the platform. There was a little shriek of shock and some small scuffled movements before two curious faces appeared above Massimo. The girl looked younger than he’d thought, perhaps fifteen or sixteen, pretty though, but old before her years. A shock of dirty blonde hair escaped from under her woollen hat and wide eyes, deep grey looked back down at him with a mixture of fear and confusion. The man was exactly as he had imagined, maybe even more pompous than first thought. “Miss, I think you dropped this”, he held up the money and her eyes moved slowly from Massimo to his ill-gotten gains. “I don’t think…” “Yes", Massimo interrupted. "I saw it clear as day, it fell from your blanket” Her eyes moved back to Massimo and he smiled a knowing smile giving a little wink. Her face began to change, the sun beamed down on Massimo as her eyes softened and her lips rearranged themselves into a massive beaming smile. Massimo melted, having to swallow his heart back down he gave a little nod for her to take the money. “Where did you get that?” the man said quietly but not really to either of them. A train rumbled in and to a squealing halt behind him. He flicked his eye to it, uncertainty clear on his face. Massimo watched him, could tell he didn’t want to be late for work, would set a bad example but the dawning realisation that this could be his money was apparent behind the eyes. No one moved, Mexican stand off. Sweat formed on the man’s brow, he licked his lips and his fingers clenched his umbrella tighter sending his knuckles white. The platform was empty; the train doors began to bleep. The man could wait no longer, he turned on his heals and waddled as quick as bulk would take him, just making the train before the guards blown whistle signalled departure. The girl’s hand reached for the money; sniffing back her emotions as she gripped tight but did not pull. Massimo firmed his look. “Go home” She cried and shock and promised. Massimo let go of the money and turned to leave, then paused. “Go home”.
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