"It's not all that glitters that's gold." Geoff said.
"Hmm?"
"Gold." Geoff echoed. "It's not all that glitters."
"Says who?" Asked Mark, staring off into the horizon.
"Shakespeare." Said Geoff.
"Good lad."
"Hmmm." Geoff nodded approvingly.
"Good name, too."
"You can say that again."
There was a silence.
Mark took a last long drag of his cigarette, before flicking it off the edge of the roof with his right hand.
Geoff dangled his legs restlessly off the ledge.
"I'm going away, Mark." He said, a hint of pain in his voice.
"Where are you off to, mate?"
"Nowhere in particular. Just away."
Mark turned towards him, his eyebrows touching one another lightly, and his lips firmly pressed together. "What for?"
"I won some cash on a scratcher. Thought I'd put it to use. Life is getting stale, mate."
"What about the missus?"
"She doesn't know."
"Christ, Geoff."
Mark scratched his head.
"Aye, Geoff, if you're leaving, can I have the business?"
"It's already yours. Signed it off this morning." Geoff said.
"Bloody hell man, you're serious?"
Geoff nodded.
"You said it was going well with the garage, Geoff, you did. Said there was loads of customers."
"It got stale, mate. What can I say?"
There was another silence. Mark scratched the stubble on his jaw.
"Bloody hell." Mark said again.
Geoff nodded.
"When are you off then?"
"Catching a train in 30."
"Where to?"
"Away."
"Right."
Geoff pulled a hand through his hair.
"Take good care of the shop for me, will ya?"
Mark grinned an askew, toothy grin. "I helped you build it, Geoff. Remember? I wouldn't trash it."
"I got us those lights." Geoff offered.
"That's right."
"Damn fine lights, they were."
"That they were, Geoff. Damn fine." Mark nodded.
"Say Geoff."
"Yeah?"
"What if your missus asks where you are?"
"Tell her what I told you."
"Not much."
"You got that right."
"And Bobby and Charley?"
"They'll understand."
"Guess they will."
"Right." Said Geoff, and he slapped his knees. "Train to catch."
"Have a good trip, Geoff." Said Mark, making no moves to get up.
"Have a good one, Mark."
Geoff reached into his back pocket and handed mark a crinkled envelope. It was already opened, and it had half of a shopping list scribbled on the front.
"You'll need that." He said.
"Cheers." said Mark, and he took it.
And then Geoff was off. Away.
Mark opened the envelope and took out the letter. It was addressed to Geoff, and it had the logo of a bank in the corner.
"Dear mister Glenn," it started. Mark skipped the boring bit, and glanced down at the numbers. They were all terribly far below zero.
"Geoff, you old scumbag." Mark said, and he chuckled. He tore up the letter and threw it to the wind.
He stretched, got up, and left for his new business. Plenty of work to do.
