Forty Pence
Gordon Pask has stood behind the same worn counter in a wet northern market town for fifty-one years, and he'll tell you he has never once lied to a customer. This week he is selling up. His daughter Ruth is up from the city with the papers, and a cheerful young buyer called Kieran is measuring the walls. Completion is Saturday at ten. Then on Tuesday morning the brass bell over the shut door rings by itself, and it goes off again every time somebody in the shop says something they know isn't true. Gordon treats it as a fault in the stock. Everybody else starts choosing their words very…
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