I feel nervous for some reason.
Back in the van we leave the lively streets of the city centre and head out of town. I don’t know where we are, and soon it looks as if we could be in any other out of town estate, much like the ones I grew up on.
Sean pulled up in a lay-by and looked both ways before getting out of the van.
‘Wait here,’ he told Fi. The less she knew about what he was about to do, the better. He didn’t want to do this but he had no choice. The bank had blown him out. This was his only hope.
Nancy had mentioned this guy before. Everyone out Dooleybridge way knew his name. He was a loan shark. He helped out other farmers Nancy knew, oyster farmers she’d done business with. When times had got tough and the waters had become polluted, just before Sean’s uncle died, a lot of farmers had needed help. That’s when Jimmy Power stepped in, offering loans to tide farmers over until the waters came good and they could sell their stock and earn a living again. Some farmers made it and paid back what they owed, as well as the horrendous interest rates. If they couldn’t, Jimmy Power claimed the land for himself. But that wasn’t going to happen to Sean; he was going into this with his eyes wide open.
He pulled his coat around him against the damp drizzle and opened up the passenger door of the cream Mercedes parked in front of him in the lay-by. It looked out of place, unlike his old Transit van, the red paintwork dull and peeled due to the salty air.
Inside the Mercedes the cream colour ran on with the leather seats. The car was full of the smell of cigars and strong air freshener.
‘So, you are …?’ the wide-mouthed man, who looked like a toad, stuck out a hand dripping with gold jewellery.
‘Sean, Sean Thornton.’ Sean shook the hand briefly but didn’t want to look him in the eye.
‘Jimmy, Jimmy Power.’ He shook Sean’s hand firmly, as if making a statement.
‘So, you’re looking for a loan.’ The man pulled out a cigar from the passenger glove box and lit it. He took a few puffs before finally opening the window. It was all Sean could do not to cough and splutter on the smoke. As the open window finally sucked the smoke away, Sean found he could breathe again.
‘I’m an oyster farmer. Out in Connemara. My crop just got stolen and what they didn’t take got trashed in the raid. I just need to pay my licence and get back on my feet.’
The toad sucked on his cigar and blew the smoke into the car.
‘Risky business, oyster farming,’ he sucked again. ‘Lot of farmers out your way gone out of business. It’s good building land out there. People’ll pay a lot for a water-side plot, even in this climate.’
‘I’m not having my farm turned into a building plot. That’s where the trouble started. Everyone wanted to build bigger and better houses, borrow more money, but they drove out the real industry in the area. The water purity levels dropped when the developers moved in. If it hadn’t been for that, Dooleybridge would still be as well known as Clarenbridge for its oysters. But now the waters are clean again, I can prove it.’ Sean felt the wind go out of his sails as he finished his speech. What was the point? This guy wasn’t going to help him. He went to get out of the car.
‘I knew your uncle. He was the stubborn type too. He’d’ve done well to accept my offer and sell me that farm.’
Sean stopped and turned. Jimmy Power was sucking on his cigar.
‘Can’t make much money, a small farm like that.’
‘It makes enough,’ Sean snapped back.
‘Clearly not, or you wouldn’t be coming to me for a loan.’
‘Ah, forget it. Some things are more important than a pocket full of cash!’ Sean turned away angrily. He’d blown it. He shoved the door open.
‘So how do I know I’ll get my money back?’ Jimmy Power said, as he sucked and studied the wet end of his cigar.
Sean took a deep breath. If there was a chance of getting the money to carry on, he had to take it.
‘You’ll get it,’ Sean said, turning back to Jimmy. He hated dealing like this, but what other choice did he have? His uncle would be spinning in his grave if he knew what he was doing. But he couldn’t just walk away from the farm, not when he was so close. His mouth was dry and he ran the back of his hand across it. ‘I just need to keep going until September.’ Sean bit his tongue, worrying he’d said too much, given too much away. It was this or nothing. His head began to ache with the throbbing in his temples. Jimmy Power looked at him sideways with a small smile. His earring looked ridiculous, thought Sean, glad he’d given up his own gold hoop some years ago.
‘Tell you what then, I’ll lend you the money you’re looking for, and you pay it back in September, with interest. I’ll text you the terms, give me your number.’ He handed Sean the latest iPhone. Sean typed his number in and handed it back.
‘Of course, if you don’t manage to “get sorted” I’ll be looking to be compensated. I’ve always fancied myself as an oyster farmer,’ he laughed, a sound like a car engine refusing to start on a cold morning. ‘My lad’ll come with you to sort out the money.’ He pointed to ‘the lad’ waiting outside the car. He was a younger version of the toad with a shaved head, and must have been in his thirties. The lad was getting into the Transit van beside Fi, and Sean felt a stirring of fury as he openly looked her up and down. He should’ve come alone. He nodded to the toad, got out of the Mercedes and opened the Transit’s door.
‘I’ll take it from here, thanks.’
‘Suit yourself.’ The ‘lad’ took two envelopes from each inside pocket of his leather jacket and slowly counted the money into Sean’s hand.
When he was done, Sean shoved the money into the glove compartment and started the engine. The lad took the hint and, with a leer, said, ‘See you in September,’ then jumped down.
The sooner he was out of there, the sooner he could get on with getting his business back on track. Because if everything went to plan, he’d be able to off this loan, no problem. And right now, he wanted to check that everything was indeed going to plan.
