33
It’s Over – Roy Orbison
The three of us went through the front door, and there was Chas at his post. When he saw John he came to attention, then he frowned as his eyes turned to Madge, and over to the deserted rotisserie. ‘Where have you been?’ he asked.
‘Sorry, ’ she said. ‘Chicken’s off.’ His frown deepened.
‘With me, Chas,’ said John, and he marched across the shop floor towards the security camera room, with Chas, Madge and me following him, our little convoy receiving puzzled looks from any staff who clocked us going by.
John ushered us through the door where the other security guard on duty, Tom, another black bloke, swivelled his chair at our entrance. The tiny room seemed claustrophobic with us all crammed in. John grabbed the only other chair in situ and gestured for Madge
