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666 Great Junction Street

Part 31

Seraphema really didn't know what to make of her new life. She felt she was being uncontrollably swept along in the manic movement of it all. Although she enjoyed variety, spontaneity and spice, she hadn't come across so much of it at once before. Except, perhaps, that time she witnessed a bar fight at the deaf and dumb society meeting in Frampton Upon Severn. Never had she seen such threatening hand gestures and wild eyes. Until now. The peculiarities of Gloucester and Daddy's hunt outfitters business, Tally Hosiery!, seemed a whole universe away from the beguiling nature of her new Leith surroundings.

As everyone stared entranced by the whole Ryan saga she tried to take stock of the situation. And failed.

'What the hell am I doing here?' she yelled.

Now all eyes were on her. It was like some chaotic tennis match with multiple players in the Leith Police station that day. But without the balls.

Sergeant Sturgeon, while completely empathising with her sentiment, nevertheless felt duty bound to ask her what the matter was.

'I'll tell you what the matter is…' began Seraphema.

'Good. I was hoping you would,' said the sergeant.

'Are you being facetious?' asked Sylvester.

'Yeah, he's a fascist,' screamed Whitney.

'Fascist?' said Jessie Kelso, confused.

'Fascist,' echoed Jakey Rolling.

The German tourists looked uncomfortable. Everyone else looked bemused. There was an eerie second's silence. Then the phone rang. Sergeant Sturgeon scooped up the receiver.

'Leith Police. Can I help you?' he said in such a way that whoever was on the other end of the line would have been thoroughly unconvinced that he could.

As it happens, it was Dawson Creep on the other end.

'I wish to report an assault,' he said. 'Ah, an assault,' thought Sergeant Sturgeon, wistfully, as he envisioned administering a hearty slap amongst the assorted crew before him. Then, into the phone, he asked,

'Where about, sir?'

'On my person,' came the reply.

Now who's being facetious, thought Sturgeon. 'And where exactly is your person at the moment, sir?'

'I am walking along Great Junction Street after receiving a thump to my head from a match steward at Easter Road by the name of Eddie Thomson. The ignorant thug is currently lounging, no doubt bragging of his vicious attack upon an innocent citizen, in Wilkies bar. Did you get that? I shall expect the full force of the law to bear down upon him with a mighty vengeance.'

Oh, for heaven's sake, thought Sturgeon. The Care in the Community programme must be having a special clear out in Leith today.

'And what is your name, sir?' he said, barely concealing his utter disinterest.

'My name,' began Dawson, resisting the urge to say "is Michael Cane" or "J.R. Hartley", 'is Dawson Creep.'

The sergeant jotted down the name and, peering at the excitable freak show before his eyes, dreaded what he was about to say next:

'Well, seeing as you're in the neighbourhood, anyway, why don't you pop into the station and we'll get all the details. OK?'

Next Week - Dawson lends a hand

 
 
 
 
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