A Good Man Is Hard To Find

Chapter 9

            Harry was noticeably absent from Angel’s thoughts, until she heard the feral growling of a Harley go by. The next week was the Christmas holidays, Emily went to Scotland to her Nan’s (like every year) and Daryl was ‘off’ most days – which either meant she was looking at uni’s or sitting on the tube, going back and forth – taking photos of the buildings, the lights and the people. She normally only did this to calm herself down but she was doing it more and more those days. The perks of living at the end of the tube line. However Angel needed chaos for distraction. She craved order and neatness so being busy kept her kind full of ways to sort and ‘clean’ everything up. So she was working extra shifts at the Caf, reading, Internetting, looking after Savina, going for runs (regretting going for runs), cooking and baking new recipes – to varied results and working at the shop whenever she was free.

            The Shop sounds illustrious but in reality it was Marion’s tattoo and piercing shop – Studs and Inc. It was a modest little shop, again full of Marion’s ‘exotic crap’ and the kid’s painting covering all the walls. Clyde who was quite the graffitist painted the place up making it bright and modern but also slightly edgy. Most days Marion was there with Uncle Andy who was an ex-boyfriend and amazing tribal tattooist, Andy was young-looking man with lots of energy (and tattoos). He had long-ish blond hair tied back in a low bun. He’d always been a part of Angel’s life and she’d grown up with him always standing by to help. So much so that he’d tattooed her in secret (without telling Marion) on her 17th birthday. She’s gotten the quote “Every man is guilty of all the good he did not do.” – Voltaire – scripted in black on her left ribcage.

Their other resident tattoo artist and piercing genius was Araminta a chilled out 32 year old with acid green dreadlocks – which were a definite statement, and gave her the nickname Minty. Angel often felt if they’d been a shade darker green it would’ve looked like moulding puke – somehow she’d gotten the balance just right though.

            Most days when she wasn’t working the cashier Angel sat in the back making tea and coffee – watching Andy draw out new designs was therapeutic and so she always tried to sneak out of jobs and ‘provide inspiration’ as she put it.

            It was almost a week into the holiday and Angel had popped by the shop to collect her jacket, but ended up getting roped into cleaning up.

“I can’t believe her! Honestly it is ridiculous, I swing by to pick up my jacket. Then somehow I’m still here – 20 minutes later! Mopping the floors. Who does she think she is? Some kind of evil step-mother. Well reality-check she’s just my real mother who enslaves me! Urg” Angel was chipper and keeping up a stream of sarcastic jibes at her mum.

“Was that all then?” Minty asked laughing.

“Hmm. And I am by far the better chef.” Angel snorted.

“Well thanks for that Miss Strada, same time next week? That’ll be 50 pounds, thank-you” Andy winked at her through his rectangular wire rims.

“Jeezo and here I was thinking I was the one getting paid for being here.” Angel grinned – emphasising a few words to make sure Marion heard in the other room.

“No, you’re not – what is yours is mine lovey.” Marion tones came through the room. “Could you get us all a cuppa though?” She asked and everyone else’s voices chimed in with her their requests.