Paul Malik the handsome Arab, inherited the laundry business from his father who came to live in England in 1948 and started life in Liverpool, He buys his first shop with six old washing machines when he moves to the Arab and Jewish community in Benwell in Newcastle. He notices how the community struggle to wash clothes by hand and sets about opening a laundrette. Des Baldwin, the racial bigot does not like Paul or any other black man or woman for that matter. He works in a garage on waterville road and does fiddle work on the side. There is a knock on his door one evening and a bony faced man in a suit asks if he will repair a friends car. the 1968 Jaguar belongs to Darren Ingles a notorious gangster from the West End of Newcastle. The car has been used in a robbery and has been damaged. Read how Des' gets involved with the mob. The story is set in 1971 and will take you to Manchester, and Tenerife and the Canary islands. This is a story of drug trafficking, Dealing and murder.


2. 2

She took a break and went to sit on one of the seats outside for a cigarette.

Jenifer had placed the rugby shirts on the hottest wash to get all the mud out of them.

 Lighting up a Number 6 cigarette she inhaled and then let out a satisfied stream of smoke.

Cars would give her a toot as they went past the shop so she waved to because she knew them. Others tooted her because she looked pretty sitting in the sun.

“Hello Jenny said Mrs Purvis as she passed the shop to go to the chemist shop further along.’

It’s a scorcher today mind isn’t it?’

 “It’s hotter inside Mrs Purvis.’

“Poor lass, I bet you are passin’ oot wi all the heat from those driers?’

“Well that’s why I’ve come outside; even with the door open it’s still like an oven in there.’

“I’m just gan to the chemists to get wor Jimmy his prescription; he suffer from gout yer na and the doctor says it’s all the rich livin’ whey a had to laugh yer na. “ What rich livin’ around the Ridges Estate a telt him. “Try livin’ on broth for a week cos that’s what me and my man are eatin’ rich livin’ I tell yer.’

“These doctors haven’t got a bloody clue Jenny.’ Giz a tab will yer am gaspin’

Jenny opened her packet of ten cigarettes and gave one to the old lady who sat next to her.’

She used her Ronson’s blue coloured lighter to light up Elsie’s cigarette. The old woman’s cheeks seemed to get sucked into her face as she inhaled the tobacco. Her mouth devoid of teeth gave a toothy grin as she told Jenny that the doctor had told her to pack in the tabs as well.’

“Whey I’m eight one year owld it’s a bit late noo for me to be givin’ up the tabs I telt him.

“It will prolong yer life he said.’

“Christ doctor if I haven’t died wi smokin’ in seventy year I’m not ganna die wi cancer noo.’ Elsie took another drag from the cigarette as someone who had just finished their washing came out.’

“Bye Jenny said the young woman.’

Bye; see you next time.’

“The money that woman spends each week on washing clothes, you would think hor man could have bought her a twin tub by noo.’

Another car stopped outside and a man got out and went to the boot Jenny stubbed out her cigarette and went back inside where she made ready to write out another receipt.’

The five washers had all stopped and she emptied them out into the blue wash basket then she took out the rugby shirts and got a shock because the dye from a red bag had ran and the rugby shirts were all blue and pink now.’

Panic started to set in and she was in danger of losing her job if she couldn’t get the stains out from the shirts. She placed them back into the washer minus the red bag and poured in a little bleach along with the soap powder to see if it would remove the pink stains. It was a good job that she had put the shorts into a separate wash or the team would have looked like a right bunch of fairies dressed in pink shorts and blue and pink tops. Jenny placed the bag of shirts into the washer that was spare and set it away

With the Daz washing powder that the man had left, she added some of it to the rugby shirts as well in an effort to remove the pink stains.

Just then Paul Malik the owner’s son came in to see how things were going in his father’ Mamood’s shop.’


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