Hyug was woken up, early, by the empty space in the bed. He remembered the argument of the night before and jumped up, suddenly awake. Sheila was in the kitchen. She looked more than just angry, she'd been crying. Her coat and bags lay by the door.

"I've had enough, Boy! Either you, sort out the whole, tax, VAT and National Insurance thing with that boss of yours, or..." Hyug's petite partner, paused. She wiped away the last tears of frustration, "Or, I don't know, what. Weel? What have you got to say for your self? What are you going to do about it?"

Hyug sighed and shook his head, "Look, Sheila, Ah'll see Big Eck the moarah. Bit, y'know whit he's like. He'll jist laugh and threaten me wae the sack, or worse. An' that's if he's in a good mood."

You've got to stand up to him, Hughie. He's just a wee nyaff. It's no just your pay, or, the pension thing. He's hung the whole tax fiddle wae the "Iron Horse" round your neck. You'll get the blame. You're supposed to be in charge, wae the books and everything. It's you that'll get the jile! You don't want to end up in the "Bar-L" do ye?"

"He might be a `wee nyaff,' Sheila, but, he's a psycho, wee nyaff that's surrounded himsel' wae ultra-heavy nutters and he runs a good doad o' the nightlife in this here Toon. An' that's no nothin'." He sighed, and tied back his unfashionably long hair into a ponytail, ready for work.

Sheila shook her head and picked up the case by the door. "Well Hughie, it's up to you. Sort it out. I'm going back to Caithness. My mum's no brilliant at the moment. I'm going up to keep an eye on her. I don't know how long for, way things are."

Hyug stopped, a glimpse of genuine panic shot across his big face. "Y'must huv an idea, Sheila?

"I don't know how long, Hugh, darlin.' Till she's better. Till thing's are sorted. Till I want to come back. I don't know." She shook her head, "Don't try to stop me. I've had enough. You're too soft. I warned you about the job and that sly, canniving wee bastard." She gripped the door handle and pulled it open. She hesitated. "Don't be mad wae me, Hughie. It's no because I don't love ye. I jist can't take anymore worrying about you. Give me a kiss, cheerio."

Blindly, he kissed her. The door closed. He stood, blinking and gasping like a fish newly slapped on the wet, slimy deck of one of the trawlers he used to work on.

© copyright, 2002 AndroMan.