by Tara Ford
“Oh no – I know young Jenny from a long, long time ago,” replied the old woman.
“Really?” remarked Dayna, “she didn’t tell me she knew you before.”
“Yes, yes I know Jenny – dear girl.”
“Shall we put that ice-cream back in the freezer until you decide what else you would like, Marj?”
“Yes please… I need some toilet rolls. Have you got any?”
“Oh, I think you bought toilet rolls this morning.” The volume of Dayna’s voice had increased and Jenny suspected that it had been done so, purely for her benefit.
“Oh, silly me. I don’t know where I might have put them dear. I’ll take another pack – you can never have enough toilet rolls. I do have two toilets you know.”
“Are you sure? I think you may have bought two packs already this morning, Marj.”
Jenny now assumed that the old lady was called Marj. Smiling, Jenny pulled herself up in the chair and stretched. Peering at the clock, she was surprised to see that she’d been asleep for at least 30 minutes. She felt far more alert and ready to take on whatever the afternoon might bring. If the morning was anything to go by, the opportunities for the afternoon were endless, Jenny thought, as she shook her head in disbelief.
“Oh no, I have only ever been here once before,” said Marj. “I’ve just got back from Ireland, you know. I’ve recently lost my dear husband, Neville… and my mother too.”
“Oh dear, I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“Oh yes, I’m sorry too. My poor mother was only 59 when she died of cancer. It was just last week and I’m heartbroken you know.”
“Really? Oh, I can imagine how terrible that must be for you,” replied Dayna. “And how old are you, Marj? You look like a fine, strapping woman, I must say.”
Jenny could detect a hint of sarcasm in Dayna’s voice. She could also hear the distant sound of the till ringing which gave Jenny a sense of euphoria each time it made a noise, because it meant that she had made another sale. Happy that Tasha was at the till, serving lots of customers, Jenny revelled in being the proverbial ‘fly on the wall’ or the ‘fly behind the door’, listening to what was turning out to be a very amusing conversation.
“Ah, I’ll be 83 now… I think… yes, coming up for 84 in November.”
“Ok…” Dayna replied, “Hmm… you say your mum died recently… she would have had to of been a lot older than… did you say 59?”
Marj mumbled something incoherent and coughed loudly.
”Right, anyway Marj, what else was it that you wanted today?”
As the voices drifted away from the door, Jenny rolled her eyes and tutted. That woman has lost the plot, she thought, before picking up the cheese sandwich, discarded on the desk, and taking another nibble. She then decided to try and finish it even though it tasted like cardboard in her mouth.
A moment later, there was a gentle tapping noise coming from the other side of the door.
“Come in,” called Jenny.
The door opened slightly and Tasha poked her head into the office. “I’m making a cup of tea for Dayna, would you like one?”
“I would love one, thank you.”
Tasha smiled and started to go.
“Oh Tasha…”
“Yes?”
“Firstly, you don’t have to knock the door but thank you anyway and secondly, is Day still with that woman, Marj?”
“Yes.” Tasha giggled and rolled her eyes up. “She’s been in the shop for about half an hour, walking round and round. She must have a family that looks out for her – surely – she’s not all there.”
“Hmm, I do hope so, she needs someone to look out for her, doesn’t she?”
The corners of Tasha’s mouth drooped, “Yes… poor old woman.”
There was still just less than an hour of Jenny’s lunch break remaining. She had managed to finish the last bit of her cheese sandwich before it turned in to a soft-centered brick. Picking the pile of invoices up from the back of the desk, she shuffled them in to a neat pile and placed them back down again. It was no good, she wasn’t going to even bother to look at them today. They could wait until tomorrow. Glancing up at the clock, she made a mental note that there were almost seven hours of ‘open’ time left of the shop’s first day. A rush of excitement and then fear rumbled around in her tummy as she anticipated the end-of-day takings and what small fortune it may or may not bring her.
Strolling out onto the shop floor, earlier than expected, Jenny took a view of the stock loaded upon the shelves. Some things had been moved or touched and there were gaps here and there, while other items didn’t look like they had been disturbed at all, since they were first placed there. A very rough calculation of the gaps suggested that Jenny’s new shop really hadn’t sold many items as of yet. She began to pull jars and tins forward just as Dayna appeared from the staff room.
“It’s not that time already is it?” said Dayna, glancing down at her watch.
“No, I was bored. Thought I’d come out early and have a look around at what we’ve sold so far.”
“I reckon you’re gonna do all right, Jen. Tasha just served one man who wanted a hundred fags.”
“Oh really, mind you, there’s not a lot of profit in tobacco products.”
“Nah, I suppose not.”
Jenny looked up and realised that there were two people in the shop. “Let’s hope it picks up a bit more this afternoon,” she said and gave, Dayna a wink.
A blue taxi pulled up to the corner of the shop, turned around and then reversed up the side of the building to the small car park at the back of the shops.
Jenny was outside trying to figure out which one of the large wheelie bins was hers. She had ordered her own one but there were three identical bins from the same company. Peering inside each one, she noted that they all had rubbish in them. Feeling slightly peeved that someone else may have used her bin, Jenny pulled the least full one round to the back of her shop just as the taxi came to a halt, directly in front of her.
A tall, gangling, middle-aged man levered himself out of the back of the taxi in a most awkward way. Dressed in a tatty, green sweatshirt and grubby, grey trousers the man looked disheveled, dirty and disgruntled, by the way his forehead creased into deep folds, between his eyes. He dragged a large holdall out from the back of the car and then joined the driver, at the boot, to collect a small suitcase on wheels. The angry looking man gave Jenny a cold stare and then proceeded to ascend the metal staircase on the side of the building. Huffing and puffing, he struggled to get the holdall and the suitcase up the stairway, at the same time.
“Would you like a hand with those?” called Jenny, wondering if the man was one of the residents of the flats above the shops.
“Yeah, whatever,” he replied without meeting Jenny’s eye.
Joining the man on the fifth step, Jenny took the suitcase handle from him, “Here, I’ll take that up for you…”
“Ta, live just there.” The man told Jenny, as he pointed to the first flat at the top, which was directly above Jenny’s shop.
Jenny noticed that the man limped as he climbed the stairs, “Would you like me to carry the holdall for you as well?”
“Nope.”
“My name’s Jenny, I own the shop below.”
“Good for you,” replied the man as they reached the top. “And, ta, for helping.”
“That’s not a problem at all. Those stairs are hard work when you have lots of baggage.”
“Huh.”
Jenny felt a little awkward and unwelcome, “Well I’ll be off, got lots of things to do. Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you. I’m only down stairs.”
“Nothing you can do for me.”
The man had completely avoided eye contact and left Jenny feeling slightly confused by his harsh persona as he unlocked his door. Throwing the holdall in the hallway, he then limped inside, dragging the suitcase behind him. Closing the door, with what Jenny considered to be a slam, the man could be heard mutteri
ng to himself from inside the apartment. Jenny turned and travelled back down the stairs two at a time – yet another weird, eccentric character had presented themselves to her and this one lived right above her head.
“Hello love, sorry I’m a bit late,” whispered Jenny’s dad. Scanning the length of the shop he could see that several people were walking around, looking at, or picking up the products from the shelves. “How’s it gone today?”
Jenny leant over the counter, “Ok, I think,” she whispered back. “Thanks for getting those Dad.” Jenny glanced down at the small bag of hooks in her dad’s hand. “I don’t think I could cope with another morning like this morning. There have been another two people this afternoon, both with dogs. They also wanted to know where they could tie their dogs up and weren’t very happy when I said they couldn’t.”
“Guess dogs must be popular around here then.”
“Yes, certainly with the older people. I expect they have all taken their dogs up to the park today and then wanted to pop in here and have a look.”
Dad nodded. “Any chance of a cuppa, Jen? Then I’ll get these hooks put in.”
“Yeah, of course, I’ll call Tasha. She’s having a quick break in the staff room. She should have had her 15 minutes at four o’clock. But we had a bit of a rush on with the school kids getting off the bus and also parents from the nursery.”
“Ah… sounds good though. I mean, plenty of customers then,” said Dad, smiling warmly.
“I suppose so but you can’t class lollipops and penny sweets as a roaring trade, can you?”
Dad laughed, “It’s a start, love. It’s a start.”
Three sturdy hooks had been placed along the length of the shop’s front, underneath the window sill. Jenny and her dad stood outside, admiring the gleaming, metal protrusions as the late afternoon sun shone down furiously, penetrating the shop’s windows in a rage of heat.
“Are those blinds doing the job?” asked Dad. “It’s a hot one again today, how’s it been by the counter?”
“It’s way too hot, Dad. We put the fan on at about one o’clock. I’d only just turned it off before you arrived.”
“Well hopefully you won’t have to wait too long for the awning, love.”
Jenny laughed, “Well it’s supposed to be autumn now but I think we’re having an Indian summer. I bet when the awning arrives, it’ll start snowing.”
Dad put his big arm around Jenny’s shoulder and squeezed her tightly. “I’ll give you a call later. You can let me know how you got on today, once you’ve cashed up.”
“Ok, and thanks again for the hooks. There had better be some bloody dogs tied up to these, come the morning.” Jenny laughed and then kissed her dad on the cheek, before he left.
J’s Convenience Store bathed in an eerie glow as the sun dipped below the rooftops of the houses on the other side of the road. Jenny hadn’t seen her shop look like this before. Although the lights inside the shop had been on all day, they hadn’t been noticeable until now. As twilight cast an orange glow in the sky, the crisp, white lighting in the shop began to brighten.
Jenny peered out through the opened blinds. Dusk was starting to creep along the road which had become void of traffic and pedestrians and although it was only 7.30pm, the residents of Millen road had already disappeared. An autumn chill had set in as Jenny closed the front door and shivered.
“Ooh, it’s got chilly,” said Jenny, before joining Tasha along the first aisle. “We’ll just get this lot tidied up then you can get off, Tasha.”
“Oh no, I’ll stay here until eight. I can get all of those papers tied up and put out the back for you.”
“Thanks Tasha, you’ve been wonderful today. I’d say that it hasn’t been a roaring start to trading but you have been amazing anyway. Thank you.”
Tasha looked down at the shelf, coyly, and then pulled the bottles of washing gel forward, two spaces. “Sold two of these today.”
Jenny laughed, “Well I hope that’s not all that we have sold.”
Tasha smirked, shook her head and then began to pull more items forward, stepping sideways along the shelving as she went.
Thump… thump… thump! Jenny followed the sound of heavy thumping noises which vibrated through the ceiling above her. Thump, thump, thump. Quicker this time. She traced the thudding along the whole length of the shop, above her head. Slightly unnerved by the obviously, deliberate thumping noises, coming from the flat above, Jenny checked the front door was locked again and then headed down the shop to the office at the back, with the till’s cash tray in her arms.
Alone and uneasy, she began to count out the float money for tomorrow, from the tray. Thump, thump, thump. The noises resonated through the ceiling. This time the noise travelled in the opposite direction, away from the back of the shop and towards the front. Then it stopped.
Puzzled by the strange thuds, Jenny pondered for a moment as to what they could be. It sounded as though someone was jumping along the length of the flat above. Inconsiderate, she thought, and then continued to count out the coins from the tray.
Apart from the whirring of the fridges and freezers, there were no other sounds to be heard. Jenny wasn’t sure that she liked this bit of her working day. Although she was excited about the unexpected takings, which were just under what she had forecast for the first few days, Jenny didn’t feel comfortable being in her semi-lit shop alone. She supposed that she might get used to it in time. It may have not been so bad if there were people and cars rushing past, along the road outside, but there didn’t seem to be anyone around. Even the pub, just across the access road by the side of her shop, appeared to be very quiet when Jenny had gone outside to fetch the A-frame newspaper display board in.
At five minutes past nine, Jenny turned the computer off, stood up and stretched her legs. It was way too late and she knew that she would need to be much quicker at cashing up and logging the day’s takings into her computer. By the time she arrived home it would be getting on for half past nine. But this was her first day of trading, it was a bit special, she’d been pleased with the takings and the till roll’s report had married up with the cash and card transactions, to the penny. Result!
Pushing the alarm button in, Jenny rushed towards the front door, flicked the lights off and got out of the shop, quickly. She knew that she only had ten seconds to do this part of her day and racing against the alarm’s timer was quite scary. In time, she supposed, it would become easier and far less daunting. Double-locking the door, she stood back and peered up at the large lettering on the sign. She’d done it. Day one – complete.
Chapter 9
Today was Tasha’s early shift and Dayna wouldn’t be in until twelve o’clock. Jenny wished that Dayna was in this morning, just so that she could have a good old natter about everything but it would have to wait until this afternoon. Tired from a sleepless night, Jenny turned the ‘open’ sign round, dragged the A-frame out to the pavement and checked that the dog hooks were still firmly in place.
Glancing down Millen Road, she could just see the lady with the small terrier, who she had dog-sat for yesterday. Darting back inside quickly, Jenny tried to look busy by removing the last bottles of Bucks Fizz and plastic champagne flutes from the ‘Welcome’ display and then grabbing a duster from under the counter to clean the shelves.
With her back to the door, Jenny stopped and listened as the door opened slowly.
“Excuse me… when will you be getting some rings?”
“Rings?” Jenny turned and smiled.
“Yes – rings – for leads.”
“Ah, do you mean something to tie the dog to?”
“Yes – like a metal hoop. When will you be getting some? You could lose customers if you haven’t got anywhere for their– “
“I do have hooks out there now.” Jenny placed the dusting cloth on the shelf and moved towards the door. “My dad put three in, last night.” Stepping outside, Jenny brushed past the elderly lady. “Look – there… and one th
ere and there,” she said, pointing to the three hooks, proudly.
“Oh, they’re no good for me, dear,” said the woman, shaking her head. “The lead will come straight off of that and my sweet Wilbur could run into the road and get hit by a car. You wouldn’t want to have that on your conscience now, would you?”
Jenny disguised her irritation and looked down at the hook nearest to her leg. Perhaps the woman did have a point. “Yes, I see what you mean. I suppose the hooks would be ok if you didn’t have a thick lead but I can see that yours is very thick and probably wouldn’t fit into the hook.”
“You need rings, my love. Like a door knocker – that sort of thing.”
Jenny nodded. “You did ask for hooks yesterday…” she sighed, loudly. “I’ll see if my dad can pick up something like that today. Hopefully we can get them fitted, ready for tomorrow.”
“Ah, good girl, good girl,” said the woman. “My name is Dolly by the way. What is your name my dear?”
“Er, Jenny. Jenny Fartor. I own the shop.”
“Oh do you – oh my goodness. You’re very young to run a business like this, dear. I hope it succeeds for you… shops like yours haven’t ever done very well here before.”
“I know. I did hear about a man who owned a newsagent here, some years ago – before the tanning salon. Didn’t he have a hook or something?”
“Oh yes, he did. Before him, err, Jim was his name I think, anyway before Jim there were two other men who ran a shop a bit like yours. Asians, I think.” Dolly paused for a moment. “Anyway, they had the shop for about six months and then one night they just vanished – gone. All the stock was cleared out overnight – gone. I believe they hadn’t paid any of their bills either. I hope the police caught the little rascals.” Dolly peered up and down the road. “Well, I’d better be going. I must nip in to town today. I need to buy some new jumpers for church. I’m in the choir you know – gets a bit chilly in the church.”
“Would you like me to pick up anything from the shop?” said Jenny, pointing over her shoulder with a thumb, “Or I could hold Wilbur again, just for a moment, if you’d like me to?”