Winston counted out the pile of banknotes, pleasantly surprised Jasfoup had given him a bonus and rounded up the day's pay to £1000 without so much as a quibble. Not bad for a Sunday afternoon.
He wrote a receipt for £120 and ran it through the ancient time stamp clock, a relic of the sixties he'd salvaged when the renovated the steelworks he and Sam used to work at. Sometimes he envied the simple, repetitive production of lathe work and the £180 pay packet at the end of a forty hour week.
Winston looked at the pile of notes Jasfoup had given him. Most of the time he didn't.