Read Online The Redemption Factory by Sam Millar - Free Book Online

day until I get his fucking baldy name. Wish you hadn’t told me.”
    “You asked”
    “Did you get to see Taps? What’s he look like? I heard he makes King Kong look small. And what about that tattoo in his mouth? Is it true, or what, about his smile?”
    It was also rumoured that Taps had the words YOU ARE LYING tattooed on his gums, visible only when he smiled; the smile soon becoming a poisoned chalice for the recipient.
    “He didn’t smile at me – thank fuck. And as far as the rest of the workers, well, I can honestly say that you, Lucky Boy, would not last a minute in there. Geordie would have you for dinner.”
    Lucky killed the last of his Guinness, belched before commenting. “You might be surprised, Mister Tough Guy. I may not be a boxer, but I could still end up kicking Geordie’s balls in.”
    “I would be more than surprised, seeing as Geordie’s a girl,” laughed Paul. “And a handicapped girl, into the bargain.”
    “A girl, working in the slaughterhouse? And handicapped? You don’t think I could beat a wee crippled girl? Have you no respect for me as a mate?” Lucky sounded wounded.
    “Don’t worry about that. She’s not your average girl. In fact, she is unashamedly frightening.”
    “To look at?”
    Paul thought for a moment. “No. Actually … she is quite pretty. But there is something about her, all that anger, as if itis all bottled up, ready to explode at any minute. She probably – deliberately – picked the abattoir to release all that anger on the creatures in there – human as well as animal …”
    Paul seemed to drift, as if something was coming to him, hazily, something in a thought that refused to linger more than a second, then was gone when Lucky interrupted by saying, “Speaking of the abattoir. How are you fixed for getting some steak for my ma? She’ll give you half of what
Norton’s
charge.”
    “I haven’t even done a day’s work in the place and everyone is hitting me for cheap meat.”
    “Yes, but I’m not everyone. I’m your –”
    “Best mate. Yes, I know the routine. Know the script. I’ll see what I can do,” said Paul. “Anyway, I doubt if I’ll be getting much cheap meat. Doesn’t look like a charity shop to me.”
    “You’re entitled to it, mate. Stevie Foster told me that when he worked in there he was allowed as much meat as he could carry. Buckets of it.”
    “I wouldn’t put too much credibility in any word Stevie says. Told the girl in the abattoir he had a two-pound dick.”
    “A two-pound dick? A
two-pound
fucking dick? Fuck the night! And I thought I was the lucky one!”
    Paul smiled before relating the conversation with the strange girl in the office.
    Now it was Lucky’s turn to almost choke. “Oh, shit. That’s great. A two-pound dick reduced to a two-ounce prick.”
    “Just keep it to yourself. I don’t want to offend him.”
    “Talking of Stevie, there he is now, walking in the door,” said Lucky, nudging Paul. “Shouldn’t you be buying him a pint, just to show your appreciation of getting the job?”
    “Give me time. I’ve almost reached the limit of my sub from Terry. I’ll not have a penny in my pay packet, next week, if this keeps up.
    Paul ordered a pint to be sent over to Stevie. A few seconds later, Stevie waved a thank you.
    “Bet he wouldn’t be waving if he knew you were telling everyone he had a dick the size of a coin,” smiled Lucky, mischievously. “Little did he know it was a
toss up
to see if you would get him the pint.”
    “Very funny. Drop it. Okay?”
    “The next time we have a dispute as to who should go first in snooker, we should toss Stevie into the air.”
    “Enough. Okay? He’s looking over here, in this direction. I want a peaceful night. No hassle.”
    “That makes a
change
,” smiled Lucky, refusing to allow the topic of Stevie Foster’s penis to die.
    Shaking his head, Paul grabbed the empty glasses and headed for the bar, hoping to avoid Stevie sitting at the far