I let my smile freeze in place. ‘Scaled up, yeah?’ If Snowie’s into dealing ice with the big boys in Mildura, he’s getting into some serious shit. ‘Sounds, um, lucrative.’
‘Like you wouldn’t believe.’ Ando gives me a wink as he finishes his beer.
Snowie rocks back up to the table and I almost startle.
‘Col managing okay now, Snow?’ I ask.
‘I was just filling Harris in a bit,’ Ando says to Snowie.
‘Right.’ Snowie eyes him, then me. ‘Yeah, I reckon you’re a good fit for the job, Harris, what do you think?’
‘Um, dunno.’ I take a pull from my can to shield my face. ‘Nice to have options, though.’
‘He’d have to be able to hold his own,’ Ando says. ‘Gotta have a bit of clout sometimes, eh?’
‘Shit, Harris can hold his own,’ Snowie says, slapping my shoulder. ‘You’ve got a bit of that martial-arts stuff from Westie, haven’t ya? And look at him – he fucking walked all the way here on crutches! He’s a legend.’
‘I am a legend,’ I agree, half to myself. How many drinks have I had now?
‘Show me what you got, then.’ Ando rises out of his chair.
‘Piss off, Ando!’ Snowie’s laughing. ‘You’re gonna take a swing inside my dad’s pub?’
‘Nah, mate. Outside,’ Ando puts his hands on his hips and lifts his chin at me. His grin looks less friendly now. ‘Whaddya say we take it outside, so old Col doesn’t have a heart attack, yeah?’
I can’t believe this is real. ‘You seriously wanna have a go? Outside the pub?’
‘I wanna see if you can handle yourself,’ Ando says. ‘Call it a job interview.’
‘Not exactly interview-ready,’ I say, tapping my crutches.
But then I see someone come into the pub, someone I’d really prefer not to be dealing with now. It’s Mark West. It hadn’t occurred to me that Westie might be at the pub. But it’s a Friday night, so it bloody should have.
Tall and solid, Westie’s a big-arsed bastard with a beer gut and an unruly black mullet. He rolls through the door with Matt Tringle from my old work. I keep my head down. I don’t want to exchange glances with the bloke whose trust I exploited when I helped Rachel out with that business at the quarry. Who I still haven’t had a chance to apologise to.
If Westie’s coming into the pub, I really want to be going out.
‘Uh, yeah, outside sounds good,’ I say to Ando, and I swing around to list out of my chair, grab my crutches. As Westie reaches the bar, I make as swift an exit as I can.
Snowie whoops. ‘Ah, shit, I wanna see this! You bloody crazy-man!’
He half-tumbles with me out the door onto the front pavement. Long fluoro lights make the pub façade glow – the empty street beyond seems extra dark. The brisk night air blasts my senses, leaves me shivering. Ando’s voice sounds behind me and I turn.
‘Been looking forward to this.’ Ando’s radiating satisfaction. I guess I pissed him off some time in the past.
I gesture at my crutches. There’s still a chance I can talk him out of it. ‘You serious? How’s this gonna work? You’re gonna punch the crippled guy and I’m gonna fall over, is that it?’
‘Nah, mate,’ Snowie says, adjudicating. ‘It’s knock-knock, yeah? You can go first. You’re okay balancing on that leg of yours, aren’t ya? Put the crutches down.’
I’m struggling with the logic. ‘I’m gonna stand here on one leg?’
‘Hold one crutch,’ Ando offers. ‘And I promise not to hit that hard.’ That eel-grin again.
Oddly enough, I don’t trust him. ‘One shot, huh?’
‘Two shots each.’ Snowie’s grinning, too. I’m starting to wonder if he’s really on my side. ‘Aw, c’mon Harris, it’ll be all over in five seconds!’
I look at Ando. ‘One crutch. And two shots.’
