Fresh - By Mark McNay Page 0,1

and it got louder as the bus filled up. Before long they were on the dual-carriageway.

The lights up the middle of the carriageway flashed past and made Albert look like someone out of an old film. Then they were out of the city and the lights stopped. They were flying in the dark. The bus slowed and indicated and turned. It rolled up a lane pushing Sean and Albert together then pulling them apart. The engine whimpered as it climbed the gears after every curve. Occasional overhanging branches would clip the side of the bus. Sometimes, through gaps in the trees, Sean would catch a glimpse of the factory, each image larger than the last. Slowly it climbed out of the dark and they were beside it, intimidated. From the top deck it looked like a prison, or a Ministry of Defence establishment. Barbed wire and searchlights and a chimney pumping smoke into the sky. The whine and whirr of machinery and no dawn chorus. The roar of buses coming from all directions. Red buses from the east and orange buses from the west.

Security guards watched as the workers were disgorged from the buses and crowded round the clock shed. Some men pushed forward as if they were eager to get in the factory and on with their work. Sean hung back. He could smell the meat and fat of a million dead chickens. The longer he could stay away from it the better. The crowd started to thin and Sean was pulled through with the stragglers. He nodded to the security guard, punched his card through the clock, and he was a prisoner of the factory. He followed the others to the golden light coming through the door of the building.

Sean walked through the wet corridors towards the cloakroom. On the way he passed mates who’d just finished the night shift. They were smiling and the odd one would wink and nod. Sean tried to smile back but couldn’t manage more than a grimace. When he got to the cloakroom, he hung his bag on his peg and went to the toilets with Albert for a smoke.

A white cap was in the toilet combing his hair in the mirror. He carefully put on his hairnet.

Who are ye dressin up for? said Sean to the white cap.

The boy put on his cap.

Nobody, he said.

How long ye been here?

Nine weeks.

Blue cap next week then eh?

The boy looked proud.

Aye.

Albert put his hands in his pockets.

It’s no everybody that can stick this shite out for ten weeks.

Ah didnay think Ah’d do it.

Where are ye workin? said Sean.

Portions.

D’ye hear that Albert? Portions.

Albert nodded.

What, for nine weeks? said Sean.

The boy nodded.

Albert and Sean nodded. Impressed.

Yer more of a man than me son.

Albert pulled his cap firmly onto his head.

So how come George put ye in Portions?

Who’s George?

The foreman.

Ah thought his name was Malcolm.

It is. Every cunt calls him George but.

The white cap had a final adjustment, straightened his overalls and left the toilet.

Imagine that, nine weeks in Portions. Poor wee cunt, said Sean.

He cannay have a sense of smell.

Sean shuddered. Albert had a draw on his fag and leaned against the wall.

So when are we expectin Archie?

Sean scratched his head and frowned.

It’s just over six months to go. Ah think.

D’ye no know?

Aye. Ah got a letter off him at Christmas. He’s gettin out in July. But ye know what he’s like. He’ll probably have a fight with a screw the day before and end up in there for another six months. Albert laughed.

Aye maybe. But ye’ll be pleased to see him anyway.

Tryin to be funny?

Albert laughed. Sean didn’t. Albert flicked his ash on the floor.

Where will he be stayin when he gets out?

Sean laughed and nodded.

So he’ll no be stayin round yours?

What, after the last time? Yer auntie Jessie would kill me if Ah even mentioned his name, never mind ask if he could stay.

Aye, Maggie’s the same.

Has he sorted out the drugs?

Ah fuckin hope so. Ah couldnay live through that madness again. Right come on. We better move.

Albert looked at his watch.

Aye. It’s ten past already.

They dropped their butts into the urinal with the ‘Please do not drop your cigarette ends into the urinals’ sign above it, adjusted their blue caps in the mirror, and left the toilet. As they walked into the corridor Sean pulled his gloves on. They got to the double doors at the bottom of the corridor and pushed through them into the expanse that was Fresh.

Sean blinked as his