Dealers anonymous

Gary Swift a heartless drug dealer, who has spent his whole life in the hard world of hackney. Brought up on Gangs,drugs and violence he is considered royalty in this dark and unforgiving world. Always respected, never doubted by the youths who roam these streets.armed and unfraid.In a worlwind of events Gary has no choice but to realize this is not the life he wants and tries to leave, but once your in Hackney, you can't get out.

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10. chapter nine

 

Gary got the bus past Soho And down regent street he passed hamleys, a place he’d once been as a child and the bus went slowly down towards oxford market place circus and eventually stopped Gary stepped off and began his small walk down the road and he was faced with oxford street it was crazy, designer shops were everywhere rich people with bags filled with designer goods, not the type of ‘goods’ Gary was used to dealing with, he sighed and could clearly see that Prada was not on oxford street, he only had one other option… console his free map, Gary swift sat on the pavement and spread out the map he wasn’t looking for a train station now or a landmark like many other tourists Gary was looking for Prada… allot of people began staring Gary and he felt a little embarrassed, he felt even worse when he realized that shops didn’t appear to feature on his map.. Gary had no choice but to ask a posh looking old woman walking past, she ignored him... and flounced off looking mortified that such a scruffy man had spoken to her. He asked someone else another old woman he was ignored once again, and this time she threw a tenner at him, and told him to ‘buy some food and water’, Gary was completely outraged, and he was clearly not a tramp. He walked down the road abit more and saw acab driver making his way back to his parked up cab at the side of the busy road, ahh the faithful cab drivers of London thought Gary, ‘NEAREST PRADA?’ he began to laugh’OFCOURSE I KNOW WERE PRADA IS YOU SILLY BEGGER, MAYFAIR OFCOURSE,’                                               Gary didn’t know why he was shouting but he had named a place so without further questioning Gary hopped in the black cab.

Gary was unfortunately had to work his way to 16-18 old bond street as the cabbie had dropped him off in the middle of Mayfair, this was even more upper class than oxford street, Gary felt so paranoid in his old tracksuit, no doubt everyone was looking at him. Gary reached the shop and hovered at the doorway, the assistant took three steps backward towards what Gary could see as a silent alarm – he had taken a security awareness course a few years ago it had helped him a great deal in his line of work; he quietly tutted and took off his cap and jacket, he then pulled 12 £20 crisp notes Kept together with a silver and gold money clip, it had belonged to Michael who although had never really made that much money knew how to spend it.

The shop assistant came towards Gary beaming bearing her straight white teeth and cheeks like bright red apples, she took his jacket and put it on a coat rack towards the back – this place is fancy! Thought Gary... ‘Well hello my name is Diana and I will be your personal shopper today is there anything your pacifically looking for sir?

‘Erm Gary. My name is Gary you don’t have to call me sir, gaz will do actually…’

She nodded slowly, ‘I was talking about clothes sir’

Gary looked to the side and laughed a very fake laugh ‘erm I knew that  love,’ he patted her back…’ A suit will do finely,’ Gary found himself a deeper voice, more defined, more clearly and with a smidge of smugness because he was the one with the wad of cash in his hand. She nodded again as-if every word he said was the most important in the world, and waved her hand towards a selection of neat cut suits each one individual and pressed to perfection, he nodded and grinned at the assistant.

 

It took Gary 2 hours 7 minutes and 9 different suits before he found the right one, the new line Prada at £700 Gary was pleased, but he knew he would have to pay on his card, and with his cash he bought, socks, two ties  and a couple of shirts. Gary wandered onto the pavement with his Prada bag in tow, and hopped in a cab.

 

The taxi driver looked at Gary, up and down up and down;  he turned to the steering wheel.

The taxi man looked amused.                                                        

 ‘Not from round 'ere are we Currant Bun? Quizzed the taxi driver,  Gary laughed, luckily he had learnt cockney rhyming slang in prison; he had asked where he was from and used the term currant bun to call Gary son, Gary replied, ‘no I’m from hackney’

‘ahhh 'ackney great Drum. Got a cousin that lives daahhhn those ways 'e's an absoulute plonker but I must say 'e drives a lovely jubly bmw yeah, loves drivin'. Like me I suppose. ‘Gary laughed, ‘I once had a bmw you know’...  The taxi man looked impressed and turned and nodded his fat head as he turned he noticed Gary’s prada bags on the floor of the taxi ‘ahh a prada slag I’m clocked now, so your a fancy chap’re ya? Oh not wahn prada dirty slag but 2! Dorothy Lamour! Been doin' sum shoppin' then 'aha? What do ya Kathy Burke as?

Gary understood him but the last sentence was going to be hard to answer as Gary fully understood what he had asked what do ya Cathy burke as? = What do you work as? Gary sat there shifting to the sides of his seat much like he did when he was with the police officer the day of Matthews’s death,                                                                                   ‘I’m an ex-dealer sir’ the taxi man almost swerved of the road,                                                               ‘Daan't Jackson Pollock! Oh me god why did ya quit?

‘I’m not bullshitting honestly. I was the highest selling dealer in all of hackney’… gary realized he was 5 seconds away from the station so gathered his stuff together, and the taxi driver was too shocked to move so simply pulled up at the side of the road and shook his head when Gary offered him money for the ride, then as soon as Gary was out of earshot the taxi driver pulled out his slim nokia, squinted as the sun shone through the clouds straight into his bewildered eyes and waited until his mate answered’ JIMMY! Ive just 'ad a drug dealer in me sherbet dab, yeah, a real Porridge Knife drug dealer... Erm nah 'e was carryin' three prada bags. I kna… Best dealer in 'ackney apparently...

Gary stood in the station and couldn’t believe what he had just done; he had told somebody the truth. his car insurance, life insurance, even his shitty bed-sit ‘fit for a dealer “ insurance ,still think he’s a business man, so does the bank So does the doctors and anywhere else were he’d signed forms in wish he’d had to sight h. He sighed and sat on a seat at the side of the track, a woman with bright red hair sat next to Gary and smiled flirtatiously, apparently having a completely bust up face was attractive to woman… Gary couldn’t help but laugh to himself, his face was such a mess and if they knew why any sane woman would run thousands of miles away.

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