Page 60 - Maj 2020 PDF
P. 60

"You said we were getting too noticed out here, then I got us George," Eik

                   replies with a voice that’s about to crack.
                     "Yes, true, but I didn't expect him to be this sick."

                   Janokovic lights a cigarette with the hand free and tries to think of a way out.

                     "Let's go to London, mate. We should’ve done this yesterday," he says, trying to
                   sound as calm as possible.

                     "What? Do you think we should run away for good?" Exclaims Eik.

                     “Yeah, let's go. Imagine if they start attacking George with questions. It won't be
                   long before the police will be on our arse. We have money now, so we might as

                   well fuck off now. It’ll take to tomorrow before you and me are wanted by the
                   police. My mother will think I am with some friends, so will your parents. "

                     "Alright then. What about Matt? Do we call him? "

                     “Yes, call him please, then I’ll order a cab and come by your house. We have a lot
                   of money so we might as well take the cab all the way to London. ”

                     "Okay, I'm trying to get a hold of Matt, hurry over here."

                     Eik suddenly sounded excited and redeemed, as if those were the words he had
                   been waiting for.

                     "I'll call a taxi and get over to you, we'll take the money and find somewhere
                   that we can stash them."

                     They end the conversation. Janokovic rushes up to his room, opens his old

                   wardrobe and takes the bag of the stolen money. He puts the bag on the bed. He
                   finds a blue polo shirt from the pile of clean laundry. He changes his clothes

                   quickly, pulls his jumper over his head with a firm move, as well as his trousers,

                   and then switches his latest jeans and his Adidas trainers. He then stuffs the bag
                   of money into his pants at the waistband. At last, he picks out his white jacket –

                   his nicest jacket – the one he usually only wears when going out with Mom. He

                   hurries down the stairs and back into the living room, to the phone and dials the
                   number to the local taxi company.

                     "Wait," says a scant female voice, "Brighton Taxi, my name is Helen. How can I

                   help you?"
                     "Eh yes, we’ll have to pick someone up first at a couple of different addresses

                   here in Brighton, then we go to the train station," Janokovic explains.
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