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Fiction |
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Feller's in Cut (2/2)
By Maurice Fairfield
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prev page,
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I went down there today you know. What a difference.
You can see right down to the bottom clear and clean and the roach swimming around in shoals.
Dark green until they grab at something, then their sides flash silver for a second. I heard a plop
upstream from the lock and one of those water-voles - we used to call them water- rats -
was swimming across making a wake like a little motor-boat.
I clapped my hands like I did when I was a kid and it dived; that took me back, I can tell you.
The pit-head gear's still there but it won't turn again.
There used to be so much noise you could hardly think.
All you can hear now is the wind blowing through the cage wires.
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No, I'm not a bloody poet: I'm a business - man.
No special business - I'm a user of pound notes. Property development just now.
I don't know what I would have been if the headmaster, old Cannem, old Cane' em
we used to call him, had had his way.
You've got to let that lad stop at school Mr. Fergus, get a scholarship.
You should see the books he's reading. He could go a long way with an education.
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He can go a long way wi'out un an'all! the silly old bugger said.
All't way down't Pit wi' me an't rest. Ah'm proud to say Ah've niver read a book in me
life and if I catch him sneakin' 'em into't house ah'll 'ave skin off his back.
Well that was the end of my formal schooling.
I'd saved a bit by when I was fourteen and I walked out of school and out of house.
Went to Birmingham.
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I was big and old looking for my age.
I got a job and some lodgings and I boxed on but that's another story.
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Yes it's a Merc. Top of the range. Always drive something to impress the punters.
You never know who you might meet. Not that I need to tout for little deals any more.
Old habits die hard, though.
I think one of the reasons I've done alright is the lesson I learned from my Mam that day.
Trust nobody except yourself. People only see what they want to see.
How many times are folk in really bad trouble in a crowded place, and a streetful of people
can watch a murder happen and they won't get involved.
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I used to wonder if it was embarrassment, or being frightened to be the one to do something
first, or just not knowing what to do.
But now I just think it's relief it's happening to somebody else.
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I understand it all. The Germans in the war. You reckon they didn't know about those camps?
They knew alright.
And if our government built one just up the road from here folk would ignore the smoke
and the smells and pretend it wasn't there. They wouldn't even see it.
Well that's the way they deal with each other and that's the way I deal with them.
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Trust nobody, judge nobody, look out for yourself. If there's a quid to be made, make it.
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Anyway, I'm off. Here's my card. If you ever want to sell the pub ring me.
There's brass to be made doing them up.
You're a short drive from Brum and if you tart it up you'll get yuppies looking for character.
Make some real brass ... Or I can put you onto a good builder if you fancy doing it yourself.
Heres a few quid.
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Put it in the till and tell the old man his pints are on me until it runs out.
I might be back again and I might not. Tell him I said goodbye when you see him.
I haven't got the time. I've got to be in Manchester by four o' clock.
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Courtsey and Copyright ©2005 Maurice Fairfield
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