Side Orders - A Joe Geraghty Story (1/3) By Nick Quantrill

(1/3), (2/3), (3/3).

'Ahmet's paranoid, man.' I turned to Darren and shrugged. Ignoring him, I continued looking out of the car window and into the Hull night, the city flashing by. 'You've been robbed twice this week' I said. It had just turned midnight. People were staggering home, the streets slowly emptying, but plenty of drunks still wanted their fix of fast food. 'Bad luck, Joe. That's all. It happens.' Darren laughed. 'It's cool to have a bodyguard, though.' 'I guess so.' It'd make a good story down the pub, if nothing else. 'People will you rob you of anything, even ten quid' he said. 'It's not that unusual.' 'How does it work?' 'What do you mean?' 'The robberies.' 'You've got to report back to Ahmet, right?' I nodded and then yawned. 'Later tonight.' 'Anything to make a living?'

'It's not all glamour' I said. The car stank of garlic bread and kebabs. It was enough to turn your stomach. It was my turn to laugh. 'In fact, there's no glamour at all.' 'I could fancy being a PI' Darren said. We were driving around Hull in a modified yellow Fiat Punto, dance music hammering out. Discretion was likely to be a problem for Darren.

'It's not all it's cracked up to be' I said. 'It'd be great, man. We could even work together, once I've got my shit together. I'm not going to be delivering pizza forever.' 'Good for you.' I asked him again. 'How does it work?' 'Just bad luck, man. I've been jumped twice, some bloke with a knife. It happens. I just give him the money.' He shrugged. 'It's the best thing to do, isn't it? If you don't cause them any trouble, they'll leave you alone.'

We pulled up outside the delivery address. Darren switched the music off and lent into the back of the car to pick out the boxes he needed. 'Here we go, then' he said. I closed the passenger door and stood at the top of the pathway. I watched Darren knock on the door and hand the food over. I was on my guard, looking around, but there was nobody about, nobody lurking in the shadows. I looked across to Darren, who was counting out the customer's change, sharing a joke with the man. I watched him unsuccessfully try to angle his body away from me. My heart sank as I watched him take a small plastic bag from his pocket and hand it over with the pizza.

****

Continued... Next Page (2/3)

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