them alone. The locals like ‘em the way they are. But I might open a new one over at Bow. There’s a nice little property there, just past Mile End station in Bow Road, that’d make me a good bit o’ profit, I reckon. There’s a doner kebab place over the road, but that’s about it in the way of competition.’
‘How many places have you got now, Gus?’
He looked away and if she hadn’t known him better she’d have thought him rather shy, suddenly.
‘Um — nine,’ he said.
‘Nine? That was some business your father left you.’
‘Oh, he didn’t leave ‘em all to me!’ Gus said, losing his diffidence. ‘He had six. It was me what started the others.’
She set her head to one side and looked at him with genuine curiosity. ‘I never could quite work it out. Why areyou still a policeman? These shops must be worth a lot of money.’
‘If a villain got me tomorrow, I’d cut up for the best part of a million,’ he said, and grinned widely, his pride transparent and glittering.
‘Why not settle for that? Why work your butt off for what can’t be a lot of money, when you could be concentrating on being a sucessful tycoon? You’re obviously good at it if you’ve added another three shops to what you were left — how long ago was it?’
‘Four years.’
‘Yeah. Four years. So why are you —’
‘Oh, Dr B., do stop talkin’ a lot of tosh!’ he said. ‘I might as well ask you why you’re workin’ as a forensic bloody pathologist down here in Shadwell when with your looks and your style you could get yourself some fancy rooms up in Harley Street, set up as a specialist and make more money than you’ve ever seen, and get half the headaches.’
‘But there aren’t any Harley Street pathologists,’ she said. ‘At least not my sort.’
‘You’re dodgin’ the point. Purposely, probably, knowin’ you. You could be another sort of specialist, couldn’t you? If you wanted to? The sort that makes money. But that
is
the point. You don’t want to. You love the job you do, don’t you?’
She thought for a moment and then said, ‘I suppose so. It’s complicated, of course, and dealing with some of the new NHS rules, especially about money, is like walking over a wet ploughed field in high-heeled shoes, but I suppose it’s what I want to do.’
‘So there you are. I’m the same. I love the job. For me it’s the Force or nothing. When the old boy kicked the bucket I thought I’d just sell up what he left and have the cash, but he’d been as crazy about his fish and chips as I am about bein’ a copper, so I couldn’t do it to him, poor old bugger. He’d ha’ come back to haunt me if I had, anyway.So I just run it all in tandem. It’s not that tough. Not when you’ve got girls as good as Kitty.’ And he leered at the waitress who had arrived with the jellied eels and prawns.
‘Yeah, well, that’s as maybe,’ she said amiably. ‘Listen, Dr B. you try some of these eels. See? I’ve took ‘em out o’ the jelly and set ‘em on lettuce, like, so they looks nicer. Give it a go. A drop of vinegar on ‘em, and you’ll see. They’ve a taste you’ll be sorry you used to miss out on.’
‘Oh, forget it, Kitty,’ Gus said as he reached for the vinegar and liberally doused his own large bowlful of eels, nestling in a heap of pallid transparent jelly from which George averted her eyes. ‘She’s not up to takin’ chances, this one. I’ve been tryin’ for ages. Waste of breath.’
‘Not a bit of it,’ Kitty said. ‘You bin shoutin’ at her, I dare say. She’ll try ‘em for me. There you are, Dr B.’ She set the plate in front of her and George looked at it, thinking the small pieces of silvery fish looked very similar to pickled herring, which she adored. Maybe they wouldn’t be so bad after all — and it’d be nice to give in to Kitty after having refused Gus’s blandishments for so long.
She picked up her fork and without stopping to worry about it speared a
‘How many places have you got now, Gus?’
He looked away and if she hadn’t known him better she’d have thought him rather shy, suddenly.
‘Um — nine,’ he said.
‘Nine? That was some business your father left you.’
‘Oh, he didn’t leave ‘em all to me!’ Gus said, losing his diffidence. ‘He had six. It was me what started the others.’
She set her head to one side and looked at him with genuine curiosity. ‘I never could quite work it out. Why areyou still a policeman? These shops must be worth a lot of money.’
‘If a villain got me tomorrow, I’d cut up for the best part of a million,’ he said, and grinned widely, his pride transparent and glittering.
‘Why not settle for that? Why work your butt off for what can’t be a lot of money, when you could be concentrating on being a sucessful tycoon? You’re obviously good at it if you’ve added another three shops to what you were left — how long ago was it?’
‘Four years.’
‘Yeah. Four years. So why are you —’
‘Oh, Dr B., do stop talkin’ a lot of tosh!’ he said. ‘I might as well ask you why you’re workin’ as a forensic bloody pathologist down here in Shadwell when with your looks and your style you could get yourself some fancy rooms up in Harley Street, set up as a specialist and make more money than you’ve ever seen, and get half the headaches.’
‘But there aren’t any Harley Street pathologists,’ she said. ‘At least not my sort.’
‘You’re dodgin’ the point. Purposely, probably, knowin’ you. You could be another sort of specialist, couldn’t you? If you wanted to? The sort that makes money. But that
is
the point. You don’t want to. You love the job you do, don’t you?’
She thought for a moment and then said, ‘I suppose so. It’s complicated, of course, and dealing with some of the new NHS rules, especially about money, is like walking over a wet ploughed field in high-heeled shoes, but I suppose it’s what I want to do.’
‘So there you are. I’m the same. I love the job. For me it’s the Force or nothing. When the old boy kicked the bucket I thought I’d just sell up what he left and have the cash, but he’d been as crazy about his fish and chips as I am about bein’ a copper, so I couldn’t do it to him, poor old bugger. He’d ha’ come back to haunt me if I had, anyway.So I just run it all in tandem. It’s not that tough. Not when you’ve got girls as good as Kitty.’ And he leered at the waitress who had arrived with the jellied eels and prawns.
‘Yeah, well, that’s as maybe,’ she said amiably. ‘Listen, Dr B. you try some of these eels. See? I’ve took ‘em out o’ the jelly and set ‘em on lettuce, like, so they looks nicer. Give it a go. A drop of vinegar on ‘em, and you’ll see. They’ve a taste you’ll be sorry you used to miss out on.’
‘Oh, forget it, Kitty,’ Gus said as he reached for the vinegar and liberally doused his own large bowlful of eels, nestling in a heap of pallid transparent jelly from which George averted her eyes. ‘She’s not up to takin’ chances, this one. I’ve been tryin’ for ages. Waste of breath.’
‘Not a bit of it,’ Kitty said. ‘You bin shoutin’ at her, I dare say. She’ll try ‘em for me. There you are, Dr B.’ She set the plate in front of her and George looked at it, thinking the small pieces of silvery fish looked very similar to pickled herring, which she adored. Maybe they wouldn’t be so bad after all — and it’d be nice to give in to Kitty after having refused Gus’s blandishments for so long.
She picked up her fork and without stopping to worry about it speared a
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