from Black by Rose
Like haemorrhoids surrounding an arsehole, a ring of solicitors’ and barristers’ properties surrounded the courthouses in Leeds city centre.
The reinforced doors at the back of the truck opened too as a white van reversed up to them. The dazed cash man joined his sobbing buddy and the slack-jawed driver at the side of the truck where the revolving hatch was, and all three knelt on the floor as though attending a private prayer meeting. The gunman stood over them offering communion.
Rachel was the oddity. She had nothing to do with the ‘business’. She knew what went on, and she distanced herself from their seedy activities as though getting too close might infect her ‘holier than thou’ pride with something incurable: wealth.