The Cost of Living

by Rachel Ward

  There was chorus of tutting and complaining and then a stampede as people headed out of the staffroom and towards the office. Bea watched them go.

  ‘We’ve got no chance,’ she said to Dot. Then to Gavin, ‘Everyone wants to go. You can’t expect people to work that afternoon.’

  ‘I sympathise. I really do. But Costsave isn’t just a shop, Bea, it’s a public service. Our customers rely on us. We can’t let them down.’

  ‘Half of them will be at the funeral, Gav.’

  ‘It’s company policy to open seven days a week, except for Christmas Day and New Year’s Day,’ sniffed Neville. ‘No exceptions. And it’s Mr Howells here, Beatrice.’

  ‘Are you both going?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘I mean, we haven’t sorted out managerial cover yet, but—’

  ‘I’ll be there,’ said Gavin. ‘Representing the company.’

  Neville looked discomfited. He pretended to be making a note on his clipboard.

  ‘Have you put your leave card in?’ asked Bea. ‘Because if you haven’t, you’re at the back of a long queue.’

  The line to the office stretched back as far as the staffroom door. There was a bit of pushing and shoving going on, bad temper and frustration spilling out. Gavin took a deep breath in and a long breath out. ‘We don’t need this,’ he said. ‘Things are bad enough and we’ve got to get through Halloween first. Neville?’

  ‘Shall we have a special Management Team meeting?’ said Neville, making a note on his ever-present clipboard. They pushed past the end of the queue and edged their way down the corridor.

  ‘You going to join the queue?’ Dot asked Bea.

  ‘Nah. What’s the point? We’ll have to do this another way,’ said Bea. She tapped the side of her nose and they went down to the shop floor together, with the sound of Neville trying to disburse the crowd ringing in their ears.

  Ant was back on pointing duty. He was happy in his work. As she was signing in to her till, Bea beckoned him over.

  ‘I might need you later,’ she said. ‘Keep watching me.’

  ‘Okay,’ he said.

  Smelly Reg was first in as usual, but there was quite a crowd with him, waiting for the doors to open and surging in when they did. These were people who knew what they wanted: fags before work, forgotten ingredients for school cooking lessons, milk for the morning cereal. They made a beeline for the section they needed and then straight to the checkouts. Some of them didn’t even bother with baskets.

  ‘Did you find everything you need?’ Bea asked her first customer, a young lad with paint-stained overalls and big workmen’s boots on.

  The lad looked puzzled, then replied, ‘Yeah.’

  She asked the same thing of her next customer, a woman in a nicely tailored black coat. ‘Did you find everything you need?’

  ‘Yes, thanks. And more,’ the woman chuckled, slipping the bar of honeycomb chocolate into her handbag.

  When there was a bit of a lull, Dot swizzled her chair round. ‘What’s your game?’ she said.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Did you find everything you need?’ Dot mimicked in a high-pitched sing-song voice.

  ‘I’m being helpful.’

  Dot’s beautifully drawn in eyebrows shot up towards her hairline. ‘If you say so.’

  Later, when the serious shoppers were in, trolleys piled high with the weekly shop, Bea struck lucky.

  ‘Did you find everything you need?’ she asked.

  ‘Well, I couldn’t find any Chinese Allspice,’ said a woman with a shearling coat and Ugg boots. ‘But you don’t always have it.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll get someone to check for you.’ Bea looked around for Ant. He was lurking near the cigarette kiosk, his pointing finger drooping by his side. Bea waved at him and he shambled over to her.

  ‘Can you check Stores for Chinese Allspice?’ she said.

  ‘Do what? Chinese Whatspice?’

  ‘It’s a little jar of, well, spice. Go and have a look in Stores for it. 4772 is the code.’ She nodded to him meaningfully and the penny dropped.

  ‘Yeah, right. Got it,’ he said. ‘Look after this for me.’ He hefted the foam finger over the conveyor belt to Bea. She propped it up behind her.

  Ant walked swiftly to the back of the store. Dean was one of the names on his list. Now he had a reason to do some snooping. He keyed the code into the double door and went through to Stores. There were racks of boxed-up products, a row of metal open-sided carts, massive numbers of plastic bottles of soft drink shrink-wrapped with more plastic, bags of rice and pasta piled high. It was chaos, but organised chaos.

  Ant didn’t bother looking at the shelves very closely. He made his way quickly but quietly along the shelves to the far end of the room. There was a gap between the wall and the end of the shelves. He tiptoed towards it and peered through. There was a sort of den in the corner – a couple of plastic chairs, a makeshift table made from an upturned crate and some pictures of topless women Blu-Tacked to the wall.

  He thought he could see something through the holes in the side of the crate. He checked behind him then lifted up one side. There was a row of beer bottles and a heap of magazines. The magazines were definitely top shelf material, or maybe under the counter. You dirty bastard, he thought to himself. He replaced the crate and retreated from this grubby little nest.

  As he walked back towards the door to the shop floor, he heard a noise. A tap. Or maybe a crack. He eased his way along the rows of shelves, until he spotted Dean. He had his back to Ant and obviously hadn’t noticed that he wasn’t alone.

  Ant tiptoed nearer. There it was again. Crack! And now he could see what Dean was doing. He watched as he opened up a box of eggs and hit one with the handle of a screwdriver. Then he shut the box and put it on a growing pile.

  If he sneaked away now and got caught, Ant thought, he’d look suspicious. Better to brazen it out. He cleared his throat noisily and was gratified to see Dean jump and drop the screwdriver on the floor.

  ‘Chinese Allspice,’ he declared. ‘Have you got any lurking out here, Deano?’

  ‘Chinese Whatspice?’ Dean said, standing up and trying to surreptitiously kick the screwdriver behind the pile of boxes. Ant pretended not to notice.

  ‘Allspice, in a little jar,’ said Ant, like he’d always known it. ‘4772.’

  ‘Um, I’ll just check.’

  He darted away leaving Ant looking at the pile of rejected egg boxes, some of them with dark stains seeping through their cardboard. Dean came back shaking his head and, without comment, Ant went back to Bea’s checkout.

  As Bea gave him back the foam hand, she hissed, ‘Did you find anything?’

  Ant tapped his nose. ‘Later.’

  At break time, Bea made mugs of tea for Ant and Dot. They huddled in the corner.

  ‘So?’ said Bea. ‘What did you find out?’

  Ant leaned further forward. ‘Well, he’s got a nasty taste in reading and he’s up to something with eggs.’

  ‘Eggs?’

  ‘I saw him deliberately breaking them. What’s that all about?’

  ‘The little bugger,’ said Dot. ‘If there’s a broken egg in a box, the whole lot gets rejected as waste. I bet he flogs them off to his mates.’

  ‘Should we rat on him?’ asked Bea.

  ‘I dunno,’ said Ant.

  ‘We’ll have to decide quickly before he’s got boxes of ammunition to all the toerags in Kingsleigh. Does he know you know?’

  ‘Don’t think so.’

  ‘What are you plotting over here?’

  All three of them looked up to find Neville looming over them.

  ‘Nothing,’ they said all together, in blatantly unconvincing unison.

  ‘Did I hear you mention eggs?’ he said.

  Dot winced.

  ‘Yes,’ said Ant, and Bea bit her lip so hard she thought she’d drawn blood. ‘Yes. We were just saying the ID thing is a good idea.’

  Neville narrowed
his eyes, wondering for a moment if he was being teased.

  ‘I mean, who wants to clear up that mess, eh?’ said Ant. ‘Not me.’

  Neville’s face relaxed. ‘No. Exactly. Good,’ he said, and, slightly at a loss, he stalked off.

  Bea high-fived Ant. ‘Nice one,’ she said.

  ‘I was free-styling,’ he admitted, ‘but it’s true, innit? If there’s a mess tomorrow, I’m going to be back to the mop and bucket. Screw that. I reckon we should dob Dean in.’

  ‘Let’s think about it, shall we?’ said Bea. ‘Maybe we should just have a quiet word with him. Let him know that we know.’

  ‘Give him a chance to do the right thing, like you did with me? Yeah, I like that,’ said Ant.

  At the end of the day, Ant and Bea found Dean in his ‘den’, lounging on one of the plastic chairs with his feet resting on top of the crate. He heard them coming this time.

  ‘Bea,’ he said, looking round. ‘This is a pleasant surprise.’ Then he saw Ant coming to stand next to her. ‘Oh. Twice in one day. What are you doing here?’

  ‘We want to talk about eggs,’ said Bea.

  ‘Do you want some?’ Dean said. ‘Didn’t think you’d be into that, but Ant—’

  ‘I’m straight now,’ said Ant. ‘I’ve seen the light.’

  ‘So what is it? What do you want?’

  ‘You were seen earlier,’ said Bea. ‘You were deliberately cracking eggs, so they can’t be sold. It’s you, isn’t it, who supplies the kids in the town. You did it last year and it’s the same again.’

  Dean fired daggers at Ant, then tipped his chair back in a show of nonchalance.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ said Dean.

  ‘I want you to stop selling or giving out the eggs, and I want you to take those pictures down. If you do that, I won’t tell Big Gav. If you don’t . . . ’

  ‘Ooh, I’m scared,’ said Dean, grinning all the time.

  ‘I’m serious,’ said Bea. ‘I’ll do it. The town was a fucking mess last year. If the police traced the eggs back here, it’s not just trouble for you, it’s Gavin that’ll take the heat.’

  ‘Nobody’s going to trace anything anywhere. There are no eggs,’ said Dean.

  ‘Shut up. Ant saw you.’

  Still grinning, he held both arms out wide and shrugged. Ant pushed past Bea and marched back to the place where he’d seen Dean at his work. There were no leaking boxes in piles. The screwdriver was gone. The only eggs were stacked neatly on the shelves where they should be. He peered into a couple of boxes. Six perfect eggs. No breakages.

  He went up and down the room, looking for damaged eggs, but they were gone.

  Back in the den, he and Bea were waiting in awkward silence.

  ‘Where have they gone?’ Ant demanded.

  ‘There are no eggs. There were never any eggs. I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  Ant was red in the face, glowing from his frenzied search and the frustration of failure. ‘You lying shit,’ he said.

  ‘You like me really,’ Dean said.

  ‘If there’s trouble tomorrow, I’m going to bring it right back here to you,’ Bea said. ‘Come on, Ant. Let’s get out of here.’

  She turned on her heel, but not before Ant had kicked one of the chair legs from under Dean, sending him sprawling onto the concrete floor.

  ‘I’ll kill you,’ Dean shouted after them. ‘I’ll kill you, Ant. You’re dead!’

  12

  ‘What have you come as?’ Ant said to Neville. He himself was wrapped up head to toe in toilet roll. Ends were trailing left, right and centre and Bea fervently hoped that he was wearing something decent underneath as it was more than likely going to be on display by the end of the day.

  ‘You know I don’t agree with all this Halloween nonsense,’ Neville sniffed, picking at an imaginary hair on his Costsave uniform.

  ‘What do you mean? You’ve come as a muggle, haven’t you? I think it’s great. You could win, Neville. Good job,’ said Bea.

  ‘I haven’t—’ Neville stopped abruptly when he realised Bea was taking the piss.

  ‘It’s a bit of fun, that’s all. And it’s for charity. Where’s your heart, Nev?’

  ‘Not that it’s anyone’s business, but I’ve given my contribution to Anna already. I paid not to dress up.’

  ‘Okay. Fair enough.’ Bea adjusted her headband. The sparkly cat ears had seemed like a bargain when she’d spotted them in the pound shop, but she already had little sore patches where the ends dug in. She’d wear them for as long as possible, though, as the short black dress was a bit boring without them and no one would see the cat’s tail sewn onto the back when she was sitting at her till.

  ‘Who’s judging, anyway?’ said Dot, looking up from applying another coat of green lipstick. She’d gone the whole hog with her witch costume including sticking Rice Krispies to her face to make nastily convincing warts.

  ‘Gav, I think,’ said Bea. ‘It’s not the winning, though, it’s the taking part.’ She glanced at Dot who was smoothing down her black silky dress, and smiled to herself. ‘You look great, Dot. Think you’ve got it in the bag.’

  ‘What about me?’ said Ant, holding his arms out and doing a twirl.

  ‘I think your chances just went down the pan,’ said Bea.

  ‘Otherwise, you’d be flushed with success,’ said Dot.

  He pulled a face. ‘Haha, very funny.’

  ‘What are you three plotting?’ said Eileen as she walked past.

  ‘Sorry?’ said Bea.

  ‘Heard you’ve been poking your nose in where it wasn’t wanted.’

  Conversation in the room quietened as people sensed that something interesting was going on.

  ‘I’ve not been poking my nose anywhere, Eileen. I did go into the Stores yesterday but as far as I know it hasn’t been declared out of bounds. It’s not your son’s private property.’

  ‘Well, no,’ she sniffed.

  ‘So there’s no poking and no plotting. No unless you’re doing it. Or do you just stick to stirring?’

  Eileen looked as if she was on the edge of replying, then changed her mind. She sniffed again and disappeared towards the locker room. There was almost an audible sigh from everyone else, though whether it was relief or disappointment, it was hard to tell.

  The atmosphere on the shop floor, however, was more upbeat than it had been for days. It was like everyone had been given permission to lighten up a bit, after the shock of Ginny’s murder.

  Tom and Shaz walked through the store mid-morning. Bea saw him coming. He lagged behind by her checkout and stopped long enough to say, ‘You look purr-fect.’

  She blushed, pretended to stroke her whiskers and said, ‘Mi-aowww.’

  He caught up with Shaz and they went up to Gavin, who was waiting for them.

  ‘Halloween or Ginny?’ Dot asked, as they disappeared through the staff door.

  ‘Dunno. Perhaps I’ll find out later.’

  ‘Have you two got plans?’

  ‘No, but you never know.’

  Dot reached backwards and gave her a little dig in the ribs. ‘I’ve been thinking, Bea,’ she said, ‘it’s good that Gav said they’d pay for taxis and that, but do you think there’s anything fishy about it?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, if we tell him our travel plans, he’ll know who’s with who, won’t he? He’ll know if anyone’s on their own.’

  ‘Yeah, and he’ll pay for a taxi for them. I think he’s just ruled himself off our list.’

  ‘Unless it’s some sort of double bluff.’

  ‘You’re getting worse than me, Dot. It’s Gavin we’re talking about. It’d be fishier if he was offering lifts himself, wouldn’t it?’

  ‘Yeah. Yeah, it would.’

  Bea peeled the headband off, and grunted with relief. ‘God, I can’t wear these ears any longer, I’m that sore.’

  ‘Ooh, you’ve got really red patches. They’re evil those things, aren’t
they? I’m not sure I’m going to be able to keep this hat on all day.’

  The Halloween specials kept selling well through the morning.

  ‘Have you got any pumpkins?’ a harassed mum asked, trailing a tired toddler behind her.

  ‘We’ve sold out of the big ones,’ said Bea, ‘but we’ve got little ones for a pound. There are some in with the fresh veg and some at the end of aisle ten.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  As she talked to the woman she saw another watching her. She had scraped-back hair and large hooped earrings. There was something about the way she was looking that rang alarm bells with Bea, but before she could say anything to Dot or even reach for the button to summon Neville, the woman was making a beeline for her. But it wasn’t Bea she had in her sights. It was Dot.

  ‘It’s you, isn’t it?’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘You’re the one, the one who’s been seeing my Anthony.’

  Bea apologised to her customer and swivelled round in her chair. She could just see past Dot’s tall black hat to her accuser who was standing by Dot’s till, jabbing one hand towards Dot’s face.

  ‘I don’t know who you are,’ said Dot steadily. ‘If you want to buy something please put it on the belt here. Otherwise, there are people waiting.’

  ‘Don’t come all hoity-toity with me. You’re a cradle-snatcher, a paedophile, a pervert! That’s what you are.’ She was shouting now, and people were starting to look. ‘How old are you? Sixty? Older than me. Old enough to be my mum! It’s disgusting.’

  ‘Can we talk about this somewhere else?’ said Dot. As she logged off her till, Bea could see her hands shaking.

  ‘Dot,’ she said, ‘shall I get someone?’

  ‘It’s all right. I’ll deal with it,’ said Dot.

  ‘It?’ screeched the woman. ‘It? How dare you?’

  Bea pressed the button at her station to summon Neville and the checkout number on top of the pole started flashing.

  Ant came skidding round the corner, loo paper flapping behind him.

  ‘Oh no! Mum! What are you doing?’

  ‘Stay out of this, Anthony. It’s between me and her.’

  ‘Don’t be stupid. It’s nothing to do with you. Nothing. I’m nineteen, Mum.’