The Swap - By Antony Moore Page 0,78

for these, Harvey.' He chuckled with delight and then slipped quickly round the rack and ran for the door. 'Pokemon's coming back, Harv, we'll clean up.'

He just made it out and away down the street before Harvey could reach him. 'Bastard, bastard, bastard, bastard!' Harvey stalked back to the box, grabbed a handful of cards and hurled them into the air. Fucking Pokemon. All these years of resistance, of battle, of denial. And all that time like an insidious voice of temptation had been Josh: 'We need to move with the times, Harv'; 'We need to know what the kids want, Harv'; 'It's Japanese modern art, Harv.' And now he'd done it. One Monday morning and all Harvey's principles were shot to shit. And it was almost certainly a fait accompli. Josh would have paid cash for these. They always paid cash to the travellers who came on days other than Thursday. He'd have paid cash. Harvey leaned against the Ninja Turtle section and lit a cigarette. Then he walked through into the back room and unlocked the bottom drawer of the desk. The petty-cash box was at the bottom with the envelope containing the Superman One lying neatly on top of it. Had Josh opened it? It was hard to imagine Josh not opening a private letter. But Josh would also have been desperate to do the deal and get the salesman away before Harvey arrived. Harvey swore and smoked for a few moments. Surely even Josh would have mentioned it if he'd found a stolen copy of one of the rarest comics in the world in the bottom drawer? Relocking the drawer, Harvey sat for a while in his office, glad of the peace. Perhaps he should allow Josh to buy ludicrous things at great expense more often, then he might have some time to rest and to think. He had a cup of tea and thought about Maisie and wondered if she had got back to Croydon all right and whether she was now on her way to meet him. It was some time before he ambled rather aimlessly back into the shop again and he was startled to find he had a customer.

'Oh hello,' he said. He hadn't heard the door and he spoke more in surprise than in any desire to engage in conversation. The man, who had been leafing through the Incredible Hulks, turned and grinned.

'Hello, Harvey.'

'Oh. All right?' Harvey said.

It was Jeff Cooper.

*

There was a long silence broken, for Harvey at least, only by the sound of a small, low fart of fear that escaped him as he stood rooted behind the counter. The last time he had seen this man was from a prone position as Jeff 's trainered foot connected with his stomach. Was this to be a repeat performance? Had Jeff returned to finish the murderous work that he had begun only one week ago? To Harvey's mind came the nightmare thought that things were moving in weekly cycles – Sundays: clean up; Mondays: get shitkicked. Fuck, what happened on Tuesdays? Before he could really work this new theory through, Jeff, who had been contemplating him as a cannibal might consider a missionary, now approached the counter and put both hands down flat on its grubby surface.

'Harvey Briscow,' he said and he smiled again. Harvey nodded nervously and attempted a grimace in return.

'Er, yeah,' he said, 'that's me.' Where was Josh? That was the question. Not that Josh would be any use in a fight but at least he might be a distraction, or at worst a witness. Would Jeff assault him in front of Josh? What if Harvey threatened to sue if he did? Jeff had done it in front of a whole party full of people in Cornwall . . . why hadn't Harvey sued him already? How did you sue people when they beat you up? He was sure he'd heard about it on television. His thoughts began to wander to afternoon advertisements for compensation lawyers, and to Ally McBeal, but Jeff 's voice dragged him back to the moment.

'And here I am. You and me, Harvey. Old friends reunited and with no need for a special website. You and me back together again.'

'Yeah, lovely.' Harvey was unsure that there was much to celebrate. He peered hopefully past Jeff 's visibly muscular shoulder in the unlikely fantasy that a customer might come in.

'Old friends, Harvey,' Jeff went on. 'Old friends who grew up together, went to school