The Swap - By Antony Moore Page 0,60

take it from him . . .'

'The comic lust?' Jarvin tried not to laugh and stirred his carbonara with a fork. 'Well maybe, but it's a bit hard to imagine, isn't it? "I was so overcome with passion for Superman that I lost all sense of proportion, m'lord." It might work as a plea, but I can't really see it myself. I tend to think there may be more to this bullying matter. That seems to be the only relationship between them, other than the comic, and even that is mixed up in that early stuff. Yes, if Harvey Briscow bullied Charles Odd, and Mrs Odd found out . . . I wonder if there is anything there. Well . . .' He returned to his pasta with resolution. 'We'll get after Mr Briscow again and perhaps we'll find out.' He closed his eyes and began, stoically, to eat.

What to do, what to do? Harvey had put the comic away and taken it out again three times before Saturday had really started. It was weird how few hiding places a room held when you really looked at it. Maybe Edgar Allan Poe just couldn't think of anywhere else to stick it. God knows, it wasn't as if they were tidy, it was just that there was almost nowhere that Josh might not go at some point. For a time he toyed with the idea of murdering Josh. Hiding Josh certainly seemed a lot easier than hiding a Superman One. Saturday was their one busy day in the shop when the customers actually came in enough numbers to require two members of staff. But even as he haggled over a Darkman series, and watched Josh try to press obscure manga on unenthusiastic collectors, he was thinking about the drawer and how easy it would be simply to go back there with a lighter and solve the problem in one short burst, which, for all his hopes of a new sense of purpose, he had so far not dared to do. And as soon as the frankly meagre morning rush had begun to ebb, he went to the office, took it out again and then stood, irresolute, like Hamlet – in Classic Comics form.

'Harv, can I go and get some bananas?' Josh wandered into the back room now, causing Harvey to double up and twist around in a sort of contortion of concealment.

'I told you I wanted peace.' Standing up he pushed the Superman One into the back of his trousers. 'What that means, Josh, is that you leave me alone. You don't come barging in asking me about bananas. What the fuck do you want bananas for?'

'I could make banana custard.' Josh was unmoved by Harvey's annoyance. Josh was always either deeply offended or unmoved. Harvey had long wished for an assistant with something in between. 'We've got a tin of custard powder in the cupboard, I found it yesterday when I was tidying up, and I was thinking I could make banana custard, bit of a change from the norm. Something different.' He eyed Harvey keenly through his spectacles, which shone with an eager light. Harvey shut his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.

'Yes, Josh,' he said, 'banana custard would be lovely. If you think you can make the gas ring work and if you think you can find a saucepan that isn't contaminated and if there are two bowls from which we could eat it, then I believe you should spend our busiest day of the week making banana custard.'

'Nice one.' Josh headed for the petty-cash drawer and then stopped and looked hard at Harvey. 'You're not going to assault me again, are you?'

'No, why?'

'I need some money to buy the bananas. No tackling, yeah?'

'No, no. No tackling.' Harvey watched patiently as Josh extracted two pound coins from the metal tin and wrote it carefully on the reckoner they kept inside.

'Right' he beamed, 'banana custards are go.'

When he'd gone, Harvey took the Superman One out of his trousers, put it on his desk and then sat in his chair and looked at it once more. Suddenly and unexpectedly he wanted to cry. He could feel a great sob forming at the bottom of his windpipe and beginning to rise like a bubble in the bath. He recognised this feeling. It was the feeling of being punished for something he hadn't done. When did he last have this sensation, that seemed to go into his system, as