by Natasha West
‘Why don’t you play with me? Then we can split whatever winnings I might have? Harry, you can watch me and I’ll show you what to do. I’ll give you some chips once you’ve got the hang of it. My treat’ he added with a glance to Jenny.
Jenny seemed relieved and Roy congratulated himself on a genius move. Not only would she be able to see him win, but she’d benefit from his magnanimous attitude. And she’d almost certainly want to repay his kindness. Roy had some thoughts on how she could do that.
‘That sounds like fun’ Jenny said.
‘Why don’t you squeeze in with me?’ Roy asked. ‘So you can see my hand?’
‘Good idea’ Jenny said as she pulled her chair up next to Roy.
Forty-five minutes later, Roy was seething. He couldn’t seem to win even a single hand. The dopey blonde guy was on the hot streak of his life, it seemed. And at Roy’s expense.
Every time Roy had a strong hand, Felix backed down quickly. And every time he bluffed, the guy seemed to know it.
Jenny kept giving him little encouraging smiles and pats on the hand, but it didn’t matter to Roy. She probably thought he was lying about being great at poker. It was over. He’d lost the several hundred quid he’d made out of his friends earlier and humiliated himself in front of the most gorgeous woman he’d seen outside of television. And he’d been on such a promise with her earlier.
Harry had fallen out of the game pretty early on, although Roy had been sure to give him a few tips and check his hand every now and again, to keep the generous fatherly vibe going for Jenny’s sake. Felix hadn’t seemed to care that he was playing against some kind of weird three-person team. And why should he? He was whipping Roy’s arse.
‘Wow’ Felix said as he put down three of a kind, after Roy had folded, and winked at his girlfriend. ‘I’m on fire tonight, Poll!’ It was not a great hand. In fact, Roy’s hand, a flush, should have shit all over it. But by this stage of the game, Roy’s mojo was all over the place and he’d gone out way too early.
What the hell had gone wrong, Roy wondered. The girl had clearly implied that Felix had a problem and that he was also a born loser. So why was he murdering him?
‘Right, I think we’ll call it a night there. Right, Babe?’ Polly said, part question, part veiled demand.
‘Good call’ Felix said.
‘What! I’ve still got some chips left. I’m down, not out’ Roy said, trying not to get too angry in front of Jenny. Surely this gambling addict wouldn’t be able to resist such an offer?
‘Nah’ Felix said. ‘Go out hot, that’s my motto.’
Roy wanted to turn the table over in his rage. ‘Look’ he said, a little anger creeping into his voice. ‘It’s bad form to leave now-’
‘I’m tired, Mum’ Harry interjected and Jenny turned to her son. ‘OK, love. Give me a second?’ she asked, gently. She put a hand on Roy’s arm and said softly into his ear ‘I’m just going to put Harry to bed. Then maybe we can have a drink in the bar?’
Roy was still angry at this Felix kid but if he made a scene, he might lose the chance that he still clearly had with the hot Milf. If he went out amiably, maybe he didn’t have to lose everything he’d been trying to win? He took out his wallet and paid the guy what he owed. It was two hundred and it stung Roy’s arse no end. After Felix had taken the cash, Roy stuck his hand out to him and said ‘Well played, son.’
Felix shook his hand and said ‘Take it sleazy, Roy’ and left, with a thankful looking Polly.
‘I won’t be long’ Jenny said as she steered her limp son out of the small room.
Roy watched her go and then, after a moments pause to be sure she was gone, ran off to the toilet to do some quick pre-sex prep. In there, he quickly chewed a mint and got some condoms out of the machine. Would two be enough?
As he sat in the bar waiting, he downed a few whiskeys as he plotted out the practicals. One: what crap would he feed his wife about why he was going to be so incredibly late home tonight? Two: where would he take Jenny for sex? Not his place, obviously. And if she was sharing a room with her son, maybe they’d just have to do it in his car? That might work…
‘Roy!’ the landlord called over, interrupting his filthy train of thought.
‘Yeah?’
‘Got a message for you. From a Jenny?’
Roy ran over to the bar. Whatever the message was, he didn’t need it announced to the pub. Word travelled.
‘What’s the message?’
‘She says that Harry’s come down with a stomach problem. He’s throwing up right now, so she won’t be back down. But she said you can leave your number and she’ll call you next time she’s passing through.’
Roy’s mouth dropped open. The disappointment was a gut punch.
‘What, did she…’ Roy said and stopped. He didn’t want to give the landlord, who was a mate, too much info about what he’d been planning for his night. He wouldn’t dob him in with the missus, probably. But better to be safe than sorry. ‘Alright, then. I guess I’ll have to give her that tour round the town another time.’
‘Alright, mate. You save your tour for daylight’ the landlord said with a mocking wink and went over to serve a woman at the other end of the bar.
It was only then that Roy realised how badly south his night had truly gone. He’d lost all that money and he’d lost the Milf.
He grabbed his coat and stomped out of the pub, banging the door angrily behind him.
In a room above the bar, Molly (AKA Polly-the-long-suffering-girlfriend-of-a-gambling-addict) sat on a double bed and popped the cork on the sparkling cider they’d brought from the bar as they’d checked in with Max’s poker winnings.
‘To Roy!’ she said as she poured into everyone’s plastic cups. Max, Jamie and Henry cheered and bashed their cups together before taking celebratory sips.
‘Bloody hell’ Max said. ‘What a total twat. How did he not see the hand signals you were giving me?’
‘Because I was being very subtle. Plus, his eyes were on my chest most of the time’ Jamie replied.
‘I was good as well, wasn’t I? Henry added, wanting a little of the credit for the success.
Jamie ruffled his hair and said ‘You nailed it, Henry. You might have a promising career as a grifter’ she added with a cheeky glance at Molly.
Henry grinned with pleasure as Molly elbowed Jamie’s arm. ‘I thought that’s what it was called’ Molly said, taking the ribbing in unusually good humour. She was high off her success and she wouldn’t have dreamed of ruining the moment by getting pissy with Jamie. And there was no reason to be mad at her. She wasn’t trying to insult her. It was more the kind of teasing that a friend would do, Molly understood with surprise.
Jamie gave a snort of laughter and said ‘Well, whatever it’s called, you pegged him exactly right. He went for it hook, line and sinker.’
They all laughed and Molly was glad to see that everyone was feeling as little guilt as she was about conning Roy out of some cash. He’d been a shady prick that had tried to take advantage of a single Mother and a gambling addict and in the end, that desire to fuck someone else over had been his undoing. If he’d turned out not to be a shit, the plan couldn’t have worked. But it had gone like a dream. Just as Molly had predicted.
She’d seen through the door, when it swung briefly open, just how happy he was as he took his wretched friend’s money. And she’d instinctively known exactly what would turn his head while they took that money back from him. It was always the same for men like that. A woman like Jamie, she was strong bait for the kind of middle aged man that needed to feel like his best years weren’t behind him. And Roy had screamed Mid-Life-Crisis, even through a small gap in a door.
That was one of the benefits of being stuck in the shop. Molly watched life happen. It was all she could do. The people that came in and out all had their stories. And sometimes those stories were sitting very close to the surface, to be read by Molly just like one of her books. And for once, she’d had t
he chance to use the knowledge that had been stacking up in her, unnoticed.
It felt good to find this hidden skill. It felt like her life hadn’t been as wasted as she’d thought.
Max drained his drink and said ‘Right. I’m knackered. What’s the room arrangement here?’ And then he rolled his eyes at his own stupidity and said. ‘Oh, right. There’s really only one way this is going to work out, isn’t there? Henry, you’re with me.’
Henry tried to hide his disappointment. The idea of sharing a room with Molly for the night had never truly been on the cards. He’d known that really. But to have the fantasy slaughtered so brutally was tough. He’d have liked a few minutes more to live in the dream while he drank alcohol with Molly, like they were equals.
But no, it was not to be.
Max pulled what had been one of their last remaining twenty quid notes off of the wad of toilet paper it had been wrapped around, an illusion of wealth assembled for Roy, and stuck it back in his pocket. ‘Sleep tight, grifters’ he said as he left. Henry followed reluctantly.
Jamie and Molly were left alone. They looked at each other. They looked at the double bed.
‘I don’t mind sleeping on the floor if you-’ Jamie began.
‘Don’t be silly’ Molly said. ‘We can share a bed. No big deal.’
‘No. No big deal at all.’
Fifteen
After bathroom routines had been completed, Molly and Jamie were ready for bed. Molly, wearing her full length fleecy PJs, couldn’t help but notice Jamie wearing skimpy little shorts and a tiny strappy top as she climbed into the bed. Molly wondered what it would be like to be so sexy, whatever the situation.
Sexy? Weird word to think right now, Molly realised with a jolt.
Jamie climbed into the bed, noting that Molly’s usual ponytail was gone. It was the first time she’d seen Molly with her hair down and she had thick, lustrous tresses, the kind that would feel good to run your hands through. Jamie wiped the thought quickly from her mind and turned around to face the other way as Molly got in the other side of the bed. She didn’t want her to feel like she was being watched. That was the last thing she’d want, for Molly to feel like Jamie was sleazing on her. Imagine that, she thought as she felt Molly settling in, trying to shag the person you might be cursed to spend an eternity with. What if you got knocked back? Talk about awkward. There could be up to sixty years of embarrassment between them.
She heard Molly cough softly and say ‘Jamie?’
‘Yep?’ she answered.
‘Do you think it’s going to be alright? With Henry’s Grandad, I mean?’
Jamie rolled over onto her back. Molly was also lying on her back, Jamie saw. She was looking up at the ceiling, her dark brown eyes wide with anxiety. The confident Molly who had planned out a con job was gone. She looked worried.
Jamie was amazed. Molly hadn’t even looked particularly concerned with a gun in her face. Jamie wished she could offer some comfort, but what comfort could there be? Ultimately, it would be alright or it wouldn’t be. There were no half measures. Cursed forever or free to live your life. Those were the options.
‘I don’t know. I hope so.’
‘What if it’s not?’ Molly asked uneasily.
‘Then…’ Jamie paused. What could she say about the worst outcome? ‘I guess you’re stuck with me. Sorry.’
‘Sorry? Why are you sorry? This isn’t your fault.’
‘Maybe. But it’s not not my fault either. If I hadn’t come into the shop and tried to rob you…’
‘And if I hadn’t started an argument. If we hadn’t been mean to Henry. If my Mum had never made me work the night shift. There’s a lot of ifs. But when you get down to it, no one could have known this was going to happen. I mean, Christ on a cracker, how could we have? If you’d given me a thousand years to calculate the possible consequences of you robbing me, I still don’t think I could have imagined that some cut-rate Harry Potter might wander into the shop and put a spell on us, damning us to be connected by an invisible force. It’s preposterous.’
‘You’ve got a point there’ Jamie said, rolling onto her side to face Molly, propping herself up on her elbow. ‘How is that sitting with you now, by the way? The whole ‘Magic is real’ bollocks?’
Molly turned to face her.
‘I don’t know yet. What do you make of it?’
Jamie considered it. She was no great thinker, she knew that. But she did know a few things that perhaps the great thinkers might not know.
‘Well, the way I’m looking at it is this; I had this idea of how stuff works. Not that I understand physics or anything. But I know which way is up, I guess. But now, up is down. And that happen sometimes. My Mum, for example. I thought she’d stick around. That’s what mums are supposed to do, right? That’s, like, an unwritten rule. And then she pissed off, left me and Max with our Dad. So, I don’t know, what can you honestly rely on? So yeah, the laws of nature, I’m not shocked that they can be messed with. Or that they can mess with you. I think I’m just going to mark it as a ‘shit happens’ type of thing. Just like every other fucked up thing that happens.’
When Jamie had finished talking, she wished she hadn’t started in the first place. Shit happens. That was her philosophical contribution. Not original and not even that deep. No wonder Molly thought she was an idiot. And now Jamie had reconfirmed that initial evaluation by trying to understand this insane thing that had occurred, with her simple little brain.
But Molly wasn’t thinking anything of the sort. What she was thinking was that Jamie, with her looser mind, unconfined by the inside-the-box thinking that Molly found herself bound by, most likely had it right. Shit happens. It really did just about sum up the whole bananas situation.
And that story about her Mum, it was pretty sad. Molly could relate. She’d never even met her Dad. He’d knocked her Mum up in Russia and then buggered off, leaving her Mum alone to raise a child. And then Vera had decided she wanted her child to have more than she’d had and thus had shifted to England, six months up the stick. It was a story that her Mum had tried to tell her again last night. And Molly hadn’t wanted to hear it, knowing the story almost by heart. But hearing Jamie talk about how shit her own Mother was, she wished she hadn’t been so blasé about it. She wished she’d listened.
Molly began to wonder what her Mum was doing right now. And how did she feel? Was she angry with Molly? Had she disowned her? Somehow, Molly knew that even though her Mum thought she’d done an awful thing to her, that eventually, it would probably be alright between them. Molly just hoped she’d get the chance to beg for forgiveness before she was carted off to prison.
‘Are you thinking about your Mum?’ Jamie asked.
‘How did you know that?’ Molly exclaimed, stunned. ‘This tether doesn’t give you the ability to read my mind as well, does it?’
Jamie laughed. ‘Nah. Just obvious. She seemed quite cool, your Mum. From what I could tell from the wardrobe.’
‘Cool? Are we talking about the same woman?’
‘I know she blew her top but it was obvious she cares.’
‘Yeah. Maybe that’s the problem. Sometimes she cares a bit too much. Puts too much pressure on me.’
‘Better than the other way.’
‘Your Dad cares though, doesn’t he? Underneath that slightly terrifying exterior.’
‘Honestly, I don’t know what he cares about. He’s never exactly been Super Dad. And after Mum went, he was even worse. He’s so hard on Max.’
‘And on you?’
‘Yeah, I guess so. But I can handle it better than Max. He’s a lot more sensitive than I am.’
‘That surprises me.’
‘Why.’
‘I don’t know. Maybe because you don’t seem as completely horrible as I thought when we first met. Not a total psychopath, anyway. I’m sure Max doesn’t hurt any more than you do.’
Jamie put her hand to her chest and said ‘Be still my heart!’
&nbs
p; Molly smiled wryly.
‘I’m sorry, I’m not great at compliments.’
‘If it’s that or being called a moron thief, I’ll take Not-a-Total-Psychopath any day of the week.’
Molly shook her head at herself. ‘Yeah, about that-’
‘Stop right there’ Jamie interrupted. ‘Don’t you dare try to take it back, just because we’re stuck together.’
Molly realised she was right. She’d meant it when she said it. Even if she didn’t think that way now, she couldn’t honestly take back that particular moment.
‘Fair enough. But I don’t think anything like that now. You and Max, I guess it hasn’t been so bad to be stuck with you. You’re both alright. Even Henry isn’t totally annoying.’