Roddy Doyle - The Van

— We’re gettin’ tha’ fixed, he told yeh—

— the foodstuffs aren’t properly covered and stored, the hotplate is dangerous, the oil in the fryer is — I don’t have to tell you. You are personally unclean, especially your colleague behind you. I’m sorry but I’m empowered to make these observations. I’ve no wish to hurt your feelings.

Jimmy Sr shrugged.

— Your clothes are unsafe and your fingernails are what my mother would call a disgrace.

No one laughed.

— Your hair, both of you, is a threat to public health. I could go on all night. — There are enough breaches of the food hygiene regulations in here to land you a hefty fine and even a custodial sentence.

My fuck—

Des let that sink in.

— Jail, d’yeh mean? said Jimmy Sr.

This was crazy.

— I’m afraid so, yes.

— You’re jestin’! Pull the other one, will yeh.

— Shut up, you, said Bimbo. — You’ve done enough already.

— You’re the one goin’ to jail, Jimmy Sr told him.

— Just shut up—!

Bimbo looked around the van.

— It’s not tha’ bad, he said.

— Yes, it is, said Des. — It’s worse.

Fair play to yeh, Jimmy Sr thought. Jimmy Sr liked Des.

— We clean it, Bimbo told him.

Des scratched his ear.

— Will I have to go to court? said Bimbo.

— A week, Mister Reeves, said Des. — What I’m going to do is—

He waited a bit.

— I’m going to give you a week to bring your premises into line with Health Board requirements. I’ll provide you with a list of what you’ll have to do. I’ll come back in a week and if I see that you’ve done your homework we’ll forget that I was here this week.

He smiled, then snapped it back.

— It’s going to be a busy week, Mister Reeves.

Des was great.

Before Bimbo could thank him he started again.

— However, Mister Reeves, I have to warn you — If you fail to carry out even one of the demands on the list I’ll have to close you down. On behalf of the Minister for Health.

Now Bimbo could talk.

— Thanks very much.

Des took a pen and some papers out of his jacket pocket. He clicked the pen and went over to the counter. Jimmy Sr got out of his way. Bimbo followed him. It was some sort of a list; Jimmy Sr couldn’t see it properly. Des put a tick beside nearly everything on it.

Would they have to shave their heads? Jimmy Sr wondered. He was feeling good now; he needed deep breaths.

— I’ll have to get you to sign this for me, Des told Bimbo. — Just there. — That’s right; thank you. — And this one—

He gave Bimbo one of the sheets of paper.

— That’s for you, Mister Reeves, he said.

He clicked his pen again and put it back into his pocket with the other papers.

— Well—, he said. — Next week so—

— Yeah, said Bimbo. — I‘H get goin’ on tha’. All the things — Thanks very much.

— Goodbye, said Des.

— Cheerio, said Jimmy Sr.

— Goodbye, he said to Bimbo.

— Bye bye now, said Bimbo.

Des hopped down the steps, not a bother on him.

— Nice fella, said Jimmy Sr.

— Well—, said Bimbo — I hope you’re happy now, that’s all I can say.

Jimmy Sr had forgotten.

— Wha’? he said.

It was too early to deny anything.

— You know, said Bimbo.

Bimbo wouldn’t look at him.

— No, said Jimmy Sr. — Sorry; I don’t know.

Bimbo scoffed. He moved for the first time since Des had gone, and turned off the fryer and the hotplate. He hesitated a bit before he turned the dial under the plate, then he did it. He took the baskets out of the fryer.

— Large an’ a cod, please.

There was a young one at the hatch.

— We’re closed, said Bimbo.

— We may as well get rid o’ wha’ we have, said Jimmy Sr.

— We’re closed, said Bimbo.

— We’re shut, love, Jimmy Sr told the young one. — Come back next week, he said loud enough for Bimbo to hear.

Bimbo scoffed again, and this time Jimmy Sr wanted to give him a boot up the hole; he was arguing like a woman. He let the hatch door down and it was dark except for the light coming through the back door.

— I had nothin’ to do with this, said Jimmy Sr.

Bimbo said nothing.

— I didn’t, Bimbo; I swear.

— Yeah—, said Bimbo.

He went out and lifted the gas canister up into the van.

— I didn’t, Jimmy Sr told him. — Des just—

— Des—, said Bimbo.

— I never saw or heard of him before today, said Jimmy Sr.

Bimbo said nothing. He made noises like a strangled laugh, but Jimmy Sr couldn’t see his face properly.

— Ah, this is fuckin’ crazy, said Jimmy Sr. — Look it, for fuck sake, it had nothin’ to do with me—

— So yeh said, said Bimbo.

Jimmy Sr could see enough of him to grab him. He pushed him back; Bimbo fell against the chip bin and the shelf behind him stopped him from going back further. The bin went over and there was water everywhere. His legs were soaked but Jimmy Sr ignored it. He had Bimbo by the shirt, and he was up over him because Bimbo’s legs had slipped. He shook him.

— Are yeh listenin’ to me!?

He shook him again. One of the buttons went.

— Are yeh!?

Bimbo slid back more. He was kneeling in the water. Jimmy Sr could have kneed his thick face for him. He took one hand off the shirt and grabbed hair.

— Let me up—!

— I will. I will. Just listen!—

Jimmy Sr had to calm himself. He was all set to pulverise Bimbo. If Bimbo said one thing wrong he’d destroy him. Bimbo stayed still.

— Now — Your man comin’ here — it had nothin’ to do with me, righ’. I didn’t rat on yeh—

He didn’t want to kill him now. He stepped back to give Bimbo room. He held out his hand to help Bimbo up. Bimbo pushed it away.

— I can manage meself.

He could hear Bimbo grabbing air, like he’d been running. There was a growl in his breathing as well. Jimmy Sr was the same.

— D’yeh believe me? he said.

Bimbo began to lift the bin, then let it go.

— Yeah, he said. — Yeah. I believe yeh.

Sorry — for—

— Forget it, forget it. — Forget it.

Jimmy Sr was exhausted.

— We’ll fix it up, don’t wo-

Jimmy Sr was knocked back before he realised he’d been hit. It wasn’t hard enough to throw him back against the counter but he slid before he steadied himself. Bimbo had thumped him, hard on the chest; but it made more noise than pain. His knuckles would be killing him.

This was terrible. They were coming up to the end. Jimmy Sr gasped a few times and massaged his chest. He was close to crying. And wrecking the place.

— If—, Bimbo started.

He was the same as Jimmy Sr, nearly crying.

— If it hadn’t been your man, he said, — it would’ve been somethin’ else.

— What’s tha’ supposed to mean?

Bimbo didn’t say anything for a while; ages. Jimmy Sr could hear him breathing, and himself; and his heart.

A stone hit the outside of the van. They both jumped.

— Fuck—

Jimmy Sr tried to laugh but only a croak came out. Another stone walloped the wall behind Bimbo.

— Yeh were goin’ to get me anyway, said Bimbo then. — Weren’t yeh?

— Wha’ d’yeh mean—?

— One way or another.

Another stone. It rolled over the roof.

— You were goin’ to get me—

— Fuck off, will yeh.

— The union—

— Fuck off; Jaysis.

— Anythin’ to get at me—

— Shut up.

— Even spreadin’ rumours abou’ me an’ tha’ woman—

— Shut fuckin’ up!

— Make me.

He heard Bimbo move closer to him.

— I said nothin’ about yeh.