by Tara Ford
Shaking her head from side to side, Jenny replied, “It’s no use, I don’t have the two-hour cover at the weekends. It’s just me and one of the girls on Saturdays and Sundays. I’m sure I’ve mentioned that before.”
“Yes, you probably have – my head is always full of job-related junk. So, don’t you ever get a day off?”
Jenny shook her head again and rolled her bottom lip down. “Nope…. I can’t afford it yet.”
“Ok, I could do next Monday, if you can?” Aaron smiled cheekily, “I have to keep my clients happy you know.”
“It’s a deal and yes, absolutely, you will have to keep me happy as your client. I can be very hard to please, you know.”
Aaron laughed. “Ok, I’d better get going.” Retrieving his phone from his trouser pocket, he added, “Got one more appointment today.”
“Lucky you,” Jenny replied, enviously.
“I’ll be here about ten o’clock Saturday morning. I’ll see you then.
“Ok, thanks Aaron,” said Jenny, rising from her chair. “Enjoy your lie-in – I will have been up for five hours by ten o’clock on Saturday.” She sighed and shrugged her shoulder. “Oh well, needs must.”
“Indeed,” replied Aaron. “One day, Jenny, one day…”
Propping herself up against the door frame, Jenny watched Aaron glide down the aisle and out of the shop. He didn’t turn his head once as he left and she couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. Sighing to herself, she sauntered down to the counter where Tasha busily and efficiently served one customer after another. Grabbing the pad from under the counter, Jenny flicked through the contact details and delivery requirements of all the new newspaper and magazine customers. She was building up quite a sizeable paper-round which would require a responsible, switched-on teenager and certainly one that she could trust to get the job done. Unfortunately, she hadn’t met that person yet.
The shop went quiet again as it always seemed to do after a sudden rush of people had come in, all at once. Jenny had wondered whether the surges of activity were due to certain programs finishing on the TV, or everyone in the vicinity having their meals at certain times of the day. There was definitely a pattern to the comings and goings at J’s Convenience Store which had surprised her. She hadn’t really thought about that sort of thing before. The footfall wasn’t a steady trickle during the day. It was all or nothing and that went right through to the evening too.
Tasha huffed and shrugged her shoulders in an exaggerated way. “Tea?” she asked, peering at Jenny shyly.
“Great, thanks Tasha. Before you go… could I just remind you about using the buzzer if someone comes in for me.”
“Ah, sorry Jenny, I had a queue and when he asked for you, I just pointed to your office and said you were down there.”
“Hmm, it was a bit embarrassing when he opened the door. I thought it was you. I had my feet up on the desk, enjoying a slob-out moment.”
“Oh no,” replied Tasha, her face blushing. “I am sorry.”
“Not to worry this time but please buzz me next time.”
Tasha nodded her head fervently and scuttled off to the staff room to make tea… leaving Jenny alone with her daydreams.
As the late afternoon fell into darkness, Jenny twisted a blind rod and watched as the louvres of the first set of blinds tilted downwards. Then she paused and peered out of the remaining slit of window. The sour faced man from above the shop had just got out of a taxi, parked at the front. Jenny had a good mind to go and ask him about the constant banging and thumping but soon changed her mind when she realized that he appeared to be having some heated words with the taxi driver. Unable to make out exactly what was being said, Jenny sensed that the squabble was over the cost of the fare as the man was holding his wallet out and pointing to it. Spying through the tiny gap in the blinds, she was amused by the man’s fervently flailing fists and raised voice. He banged his clenched hand onto the roof of the taxi and pushed the car, causing it to jerk from side to side. The taxi driver got out and put his hands up in the air, in what looked like an act of surrender. The driver tentatively moved around the car and approached the angered man, shaking his head from side to side, with his hands now clasped together in prayer. After a few more, less animated words, the man from upstairs turned sharply and hobbled off, leaving the taxi driver looking flummoxed. He got back in his car and a moment later, drove away.
Puzzled by the odd goings on outside, Jenny finished closing the rest of the blinds and then strolled down the shop to where Tasha was fronting the shelves. “That man from upstairs is pretty weird.”
“Have you been up to see him yet?” asked Tasha, pulling milk cartons to the front of the fridge.
“No, I haven’t. I don’t really know what to say to him.”
Tasha stopped, mid milk-pulling and turned to her. “Why don’t you ask Dayna to go up there?”
“That’s a definite no. I think it will take a lot more tact than Dayna would be prepared to give, from what I’ve just seen.”
“Oh,” Tasha looked surprised. “Why, what have you just seen?”
“Well, put it this way – I don’t think the man would welcome a call from any of us and especially a complaint. I’ve just been watching him giving a taxi driver a telling off for some reason and at one point I thought he was going to overturn the car.”
“Oh gosh. You might have to put up with that thumping noise that you hear then.”
“Hmm, we’ll see,” replied Jenny, thoughtfully.
Thump, thump… thump, thump, thump… thump. Tutting to herself, Jenny rolled her eyes and then glanced up at the ceiling, ritualistically. It was almost like the man waited until Jenny had closed the shop, before he started banging about upstairs. It was the same in the mornings – the strange thumping noise had usually ended by the time Jenny opened the shop.
Counting out the coins, in her office, Jenny finished the cashing up in record time. However, things were really not going as well as she would have hoped and that was including finding someone to do the paper-round. The footfall and spend had to pick up at some point or she would be working the painfully long hours for a lot longer than she had originally anticipated.
Sighing heavily, Jenny checked the locks at the back of the shop, turned the lights off and went round to the staffroom. She had managed to get into a routine that ensured her swift departure from the eeriness of the shop at night time. As she approached the front, she noticed another light in the ceiling, had gone out. It has to be that man upstairs, she thought, grumpily. It would have to wait until the weekend now, when her dad came to fit the awning. Too tired to care, Jenny switched off the remaining lights, set the alarm and left the shop.
Chapter 18
His baby blonde hair swept across his unblemished face, like a wave of pure innocence. Cropped shorter around the back, his neatly cut hairstyle framed his handsome, adolescent features, admirably. He was every mother’s dream, every young girl’s sweetheart and Jenny’s newest member to J’s Convenience Store. Jordan Heel, well-mannered, well-spoken, intelligent and humorous. He had it all – and he now had the job too.
Jenny had warmed to Jordan’s juvenile charm, almost immediately. At just 15 years old, she could see that this promising young man would go a long way in life, if he played his cards right. His infectious smile warmed her and his cheeky demeanor brought a frivolous freshness into the shop.
Dayna had swooned at the sheer delight of such a lovable youngster being ‘on the team’, as she put it, and the relief on her face was apparent – she wouldn’t have to do the papers anymore. Jordan was more than happy and willing to start on Friday.
Wanna do lunch on Friday? Got afternoon off. Jenny cringed as she read the message on her mobile phone. If she didn’t reply to it, she’d be guaranteed to get a phone call within the next 30 minutes.
Thanks for the offer Calvin, but I’m going to decline. Got a busy weekend ahead.
Jenny held onto her phone and waited for the aft
ermath. It would either be, utter rejection syndrome or a pathetic, uppity response.
Surprisingly, Calvin’s reply was short and to the point. Your loss.
The buzzer rang and Jenny jumped from her office chair, patted down her hair and straightened up her blouse. Dayna obviously needed her for something. Usually, Dayna was more than capable of dealing with any situation so Jenny guessed that someone was in the shop to see her.
As Jenny stepped out of the office door, she almost bumped right into Marj. “Oh, hello Marj.” Jenny peered up the aisle to see if Marj was the reason for the buzzer. Dayna pointed a finger, discreetly, in the direction of Marj, indicating that the dear old lady was, in fact, the reason for Dayna’s call. “Marj,” said Jenny, gingerly, “could I have a quick word with you?”
“Oh, hello dear…yes of course you can.”
“Would you like to come through to my office?”
“Yes dear. Do you think I could have a glass of water, I’m very thirsty – I’ve just got back from the town?”
“Yes, of course. I’ll get you one.” Jenny showed Marj through to the office and offered her own chair. “Sit here for a moment and I’ll get you some water.”
Marj plonked herself down with a huff and a puff and immediately reached for the mouse, almost instinctively. “Ooh, I like playing with these things. My daughter has a computer like this.”
“Well please don’t play with mine, Marj – it has all my important accounts and spreadsheets for the shop.” Jenny placed her hands on her hips and frowned, “You have a daughter?”
“Pardon, my dear?”
“You just said that you have a daughter.”
“Could I have that glass of water please, dear?” Marj clutched at her throat and poked her tongue out like a child would, indicating her dire need for a drink.
Rolling her eyes, Jenny turned to go. “Marj, please wait here for a minute, I do need to speak to you – it’s very important.”
“What do you need to speak to me about, dear? Ooh… I’m so parched.”
Jenny sighed, “Ok, Marj – wait there – I’ll get your water.” Rushing round to the staff room, Jenny grabbed a glass from the kitchen cupboard just as the shop’s phone began to ring. The dual ring tone stopped abruptly and Jenny assumed that Dayna had taken the call at the other end of the shop. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she ran the cold water tap for a moment and then filled the glass. As she walked out of the staffroom an elderly man stopped her.
“Excuse me… umm, sorry, do you work here?”
“Yes, I do,” said Jenny, impatiently.
“Good, good… then maybe you could help me.” The man took hold of Jenny’s upper arm and grinned scarily as his lips sunk deep into his toothless mouth. “My wife would like some pegs – do you have any?”
Jenny smiled awkwardly, “Yes, we have some small bags of about 20 pegs I think. They’re hanging up, half way along that aisle – near the rubber gloves,” said Jenny, pointing to the first aisle.
“I don’t see very well and I’ve left my glasses at home. Could you help me find them?”
Standing outside the staffroom with a glass in one hand and a freaky old man, with a pungent smell of fried onions, attached to her arm, Jenny pulled herself up on tiptoes to see over the shelving units in a desperate attempt to get Dayna’s attention.
Dayna was chatting merrily to a couple of women at the counter, oblivious to the goings on at the end of the shop.
“Excuse me… it’s for you.” Marj’s squeaky little voice came from behind Jenny.
“Sorry?” Jenny turned around sharply, almost catapulting the old man from her arm, and stared at Marj, disbelievingly.
“The phone – it’s your husband.” Marj beamed a devilish smile and held the phone out to Jenny.
“Could you direct me to the pegs please,” reiterated the old man. “I only want a bag of pegs.”
The word ‘husband’ sent a flutter through her stomach. Snatching the phone from Marj, Jenny glared at her and then held the phone to her mouth. “Hang on one minute Aaron – I’ll be right back.” Reaching into the staffroom, Jenny placed the phone on the kitchen worktop and swiftly closed the door. “I’ll show you where the pegs are, Sir,” said Jenny, as she shot a menacing stare at Marj.
The old man was more than happy with his bag of pegs and was escorted, as quickly as possible, to the counter to pay for them. Jenny tutted and shook her head at Dayna. “Phone call,” she said, holding her thumb and little finger up to her ear and mouth, “keep Marj in here – I’ll be back in a minute.”
Tearing back down the aisle, Jenny reached the staffroom door and grabbed the handle. As she opened the door, Marj came out from the office, to her left. “Don’t worry about the drink of water, dear. I really must be going.”
“No – wait a minute – please.” Jenny grabbed the phone, “Hi Aaron, I’m so sorry about that. Could I phone you back in a minute?”
“Sorry but I’m not Aaron,” came a man’s voice, before he sniggered, “and I’m certainly not your husband or at least, I don’t think I am… unless, of course, you roped me into it when I was slightly inebriated last weekend.” The man let out a cheeky chuckle.
Jenny froze.
“It’s Bob’s Bits & Bobs. Just a courtesy call madam.”
“Oh,” sighed Jenny, rubbing her brow, “I do apologize for the mix up.” Falling in to the staffroom, as Marj trotted away, up the second aisle, Jenny slumped down on the stool nearest the door. “Thanks for calling today, I was hoping that you may be able to send a rep in to see me.”
“Yes, certainly. Will you be the contact for any orders?”
“Yes, I will.”
“Could I take your name?”
“Err… yes, Jenny… Jenny Fartor.”
“Thank you, and are you the manager of the shop?”
“Err… yes, you could call me that, I suppose – I own it.”
“Oh sorry, Mrs Fartor, I have the proprietor’s name as Margery Daw?”
“Who?” Jenny paused momentarily. Wide-eyed, she gulped back a rising frustration. “Did you say Margery Daw?”
“Yes, the lady I was talking to a minute ago. Dare I say, the older lady?”
“She is not the proprietor, I can assure you.”
Ok, there seems to be a slight mix-up. The other woman told me that she was the owner.”
“Well I’m afraid that she is not the owner – she’s nothing to do with this shop. I don’t even know why she answered the blood… the blinking phone. If you check the listings you will see that I own J’s Convenience Store. And I’m a Miss not a Mrs.”
“Ok, Miss Fartor, I can tell that there has been some confusion here. I’ll remove Margery Daw’s name.”
“Thank you… and I think that Margery Daw has been playing on her spurious see-saw for far too long.”
“Sorry?”
“Never mind – when will a rep be coming out?”
“I’ll get one out to you next week. Should be Tuesday – is that ok?”
“That’s fine – thank you.” Jenny heaved a sigh of relief, “And I apologise for the confusion.”
The man laughed, “Not a problem. I get what you mean now about the see-saw.”
“Hmm, well thank you for calling.”
“You’re welcome – oh and please let me know if Johnny gets a new master, won’t you.”
“Pardon?” Jenny frowned and then began to smile as it dawned on her. “Oh very funny, thanks. Bye.”
“Goodbye.”
“I tried to keep her in here Jen,” said Dayna, “Apart from leaping over the counter, knocking a few customers out of the way and diving on her to wrestle her tiny frame to the ground, there wasn’t much else I could do.”
Jenny nodded in agreement, “I know. Wish I hadn’t got so tied up at the back of the shop.”
“And I haven’t got a clue how that old man even found our shop, let alone walk through the door without bumping in to anything.” Dayna crin
ged. “He couldn’t see a thing and threw the entire contents of his wallet on the counter, for me to count out.” Screwing her nose up, Dayna shivered. “Ugh – it was disgusting, Jen. He had bits of sticky fluff and crusty stuff mixed up with all his pennies. I wanted to throw up.”
“Ewww, that’s gross.”
“Yeah and I had to separate the greasy money from the grotesque, hairy bits to count it out.”
“Oh no,” Jenny heaved, “think I’m going to be sick.”
“You haven’t heard the worst bit yet…”
“Do I want to know?”
“Probably not but I’m going to tell you anyway, as you’re my best friend and we share everything.”
“Go on then.” Jenny wrapped her arms around her waist and braced herself.
“Well, the two customers behind him were watching everything. I was so embarrassed, Jen.” Dayna feigned a gag and then continued, “I had to put all of his money back in his wallet…”
“Yes…”
“And then he left and all the sticky, scabby bits were still on the counter top.”
“Ugh, hope he doesn’t come in again,” said Jenny as a queasy ball stuck in her throat.
“I had to scrape it all off the counter with a piece of card while the customers watched.”
“Think I’m going to throw up now,” said Jenny, clutching her throat. “Where is it?” Jenny scoured the floor, around her feet.
“Well I couldn’t throw it on the floor could I? The customers were watching me.”
“No, of course not – how awful.”
“I put it all in your coffee mug – you’ll have to give it a good scrub later, when you’ve emptied it.”
Jenny glared, open-mouthed. ”What?”
“You should be able to scrape it out with a spoon and then you could disinfect it.”
Dayna’s straight face infuriated Jenny. “I hope you’re freaking-well joking, Day.”
“It’s quite sticky stuff but it should come out with a spoon.”
“Throw it.”
Dayna’s deadpan expression began to break and she burst in to a resounding cackle. “I’m teasing you, Jen.”