Chapter Ten
Scrapper sat in the dingy flat on the fifteenth floor of a tower block in one of the less salubrious parts of Brixton.
Outside, he could hear the noise coming from the evening rush hour, as every second driver apparently thought using their horns was just what was needed to get the congestion moving along.
Beside him on the torn leather sofa sat Phil, anxiously rubbing his hands together.
Scrapper gave his friend a gentle slap on the arm, and mouthed the words, “Calm down,” to him.
He knew that Phil was uncomfortable about this meeting. But he was Scrapper’s right hand, so he had to be there.
Scrapper himself was so excited, he was fit to burst.
This was finally his chance at the big time. His name had been bandied around town as a reliable delivery man, and finally, las
