Dead Stock

by Rachel Ward

‘I knew you were dwelling on it! Not your cat, Bea. Not your problem. Look what happened last time you played detective.’

  ‘What happened was we caught the bloke that did it. He’s in jail now.’

  ‘And he nearly killed you.’

  Bea tutted. ‘It wasn’t that bad, Mum. I had it all under control.’

  She hadn’t told Queenie she still had nightmares about being trapped in the Costsave offices with a killer’s hands round her throat.

  Queenie looked at her and narrowed her eyes. ‘It was that bad. It’s a wicked world out there. Just leave things be now, darlin’.’ The Emmerdale signature tune filled the room signalling the end of the programme. ‘You got the remote? Flick over to EastEnders now. Don’t want to miss the beginning.’

  3

  Neville was at the staff door ushering people inside like a headmaster in a school playground.

  ‘Come on, come on, everyone. Two minutes until the, hem, huddle.’ The unfamiliar cosy word seemed to stick in his throat. Ant, the last of the stragglers, grinned.

  ‘Morning, Neville.’

  ‘It’s Mr Fellows to you, Anthony.’

  ‘Don’t think so, Neville. First names only, according to George. What do you prefer, Neville or Nev?’ He squeezed past in the doorway and was about to head for the stairs, when Neville called him back.

  ‘Not so fast, Anthony. I need a word with you.’

  Ant pretended to look at his watch. ‘Not now, Nev, don’t wanna be late.’

  ‘I saw you last night as I was driving out. It didn’t look like fish fingers to me.’

  Ant stopped. Now they were uncomfortably close, face to face in the confined space of the stairwell. ‘Sorry, you’ve lost me.’

  ‘The bag you handed over to Beatrice,’ said Neville. ‘It didn’t look like there were packets of fish fingers inside. It was something larger.’

  ‘No, mate, I’m telling you,’ said Ant, setting off up the stairs.

  ‘There’s something fishy going on, Ant, and I don’t think it’s fingers. I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’m onto you.’

  Ant stopped and turned around. Neville’s eyes seemed to be glittering in the dim light.

  Neville had never liked him, and now it was clear he thought he’d found a reason to get rid of him. But Ant could hear George’s voice drifting down from the staffroom. ‘Ah man, we’re missing it. I’ll tell you later, okay?’

  ‘I’ll look forward to that. I won’t forget, Anthony. I’ve marked your card.’

  Ant and Neville took their places at the back of the crowd.

  ‘Good morning, gentlemen,’ George said, and everyone turned around to see who she was referring to. ‘Better late than never.’ Little pink mottles of embarrassment appeared in Neville’s skin under his eyes.

  George resumed her briefing. Her words washed through Ant’s brain without registering. He was busy panicking about the dead cat, Neville’s threats and the bad impression he’d just made. The temptation to sneak out and just go home to bed was almost too strong, but then he remembered last night’s chilli and the news that had come with it. His mum’s voice echoed in his head: ‘We’ll deal with this how we always have. We need to stick together.’ Now wasn’t a good time to lose this job.

  George’s voice swam back into focus. ‘—for personal reasons, Anna’s had to drop out so there’s a space on the one-day First Aid course taking place tomorrow. I know quite a few of you are trained up already, but those of you who aren’t, any volunteers?’

  The room fell silent. Feet were shuffled. Gazes were aimed at the floor.

  ‘This is incredibly worthwhile as a personal skill and important for the store. Anyone?’

  Bob-on-Meat coughed and everyone looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to speak up. Instead he took out his hanky and proceeded to blow his nose loudly.

  Beside Ant, Neville drew air in through his teeth. He was tapping his foot on the old, stained carpet, impatient to get on with the day and the business of putting Ant in a tight corner. Ant raised his hand.

  ‘Me,’ he said. His voice was rather quiet and only those nearest to him heard. They turned around, and Ant cleared his throat and said it again. ‘Me. I’ll do it.’

  George made eye contact and beamed. ‘Excellent,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry, your name is?’

  ‘Ant,’ said Ant. Somebody at the other side of the room sniggered.

  ‘Great, that’s the spirit,’ said George. ‘A positive contribution from Ant. Well done. See me after the meeting for the joining details.’

  Bea’s late shift meant that she had most of the day to spend with Queenie and she was determined to encourage her to move from the sofa. To be fair, her mum kept herself busy pottering about the house, doing a load of washing, dusting and hoovering. Bea joined in to show willing, giving the bathroom a good going-over, even though it was pretty spotless to start with. Queenie liked a clean and tidy house.

  ‘Shall we go to the shops in a bit? We’re nearly out of milk.’

  Queenie looked towards the window, and the cold, grey afternoon outside. ‘No, we’re not that desperate, are we? You can pick some up later.’

  ‘A walk, then?’

  ‘Have you seen the weather? I’m cold just sitting here. I’m not going out in that.’ Queenie made a show of wrapping her cardigan more firmly round her middle. Bea clamped her lips together, trying not to say the wrong thing, but, of course, Queenie noticed. ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘No, what? Come on, spit it out.’

  ‘It’s just, just that I thought that you were, that we could . . .’

  ‘What?’

  ‘ . . .get out a bit more. You were doing so well before Christmas.’

  ‘It’s cold, Bea. It’s dark about twenty-three hours a day. I don’t like it.’

  ‘So, basically, you’re hibernating. Like a hedgehog. Or a bear.’

  ‘They’ve got the right idea, haven’t they?’

  ‘Yeah, but not everyone can do that. I can’t, can I? I have to go out to work.’ Bea bit her tongue as soon as she said it, but she couldn’t take the words back. Queenie’s benefits had been stopped at the end of the year. Now Bea’s wage from Costsave was the only money coming into the house.

  ‘I know I’m not pulling my weight, Bea. No need to rub it in. I’m well aware of how hard you work . . .’ Queenie got up from the sofa and headed upstairs.

  ‘Mum, don’t. Mum—’ But she was gone.

  Bea knew it was better to leave her to stew for a bit. Going after her now might escalate the row. Arguing didn’t do any good, did it? She wondered what it would take to get Queenie to take the next big step.

  On her walk into work, Bea tried not to think about the row. Instead she texted Anna to see how she was doing.

  ‘Taking a couple of days’ leave. Have told George you can fill in. xxx’

  Bea had had a spell in the office when Anna had been on secondment. She’d found the work interesting and she’d surprised herself that she was able to tackle it without too much trouble, but the thought of the management suite made her feel a bit sick having been attacked there, and so nearly come a cropper.

  Now she tried to blot out bad memories by thinking about Anna and her cats. She’d made a promise to Anna and she was determined to keep it, but how best to start? Perhaps the office held the key, after all. If she was able to use Anna’s computer, she could access the store’s CCTV and if she scrolled back she might be able to see who had dumped the body.

  She was deep in thought when she saw Jay walking a few metres ahead of her on the High Street. Her stomach gave a little flip and she couldn’t help smiling. Four till ten. Six whole hours to get to know him.

  She pursed her lips, about to wolf-whistle him, then stopped herself. He might not appreciate her sense of humour. She started to break into an ungainly trot and then slowed back down to a walk. Silly to look too keen, she thought. Keep it cool, girl. She followed behind until they got to the store
. Opening the staff door, he spotted her and held it open.

  ‘After you,’ he said, with a gallant sweep of his arm.

  ‘Ta very much,’ Bea said, trying and failing not to colour up. ‘Decided to come back, then?’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Jay. ‘Gotta pay the rent.’

  ‘Tell me about it,’ said Bea. ‘My student mates are still home from Christmas. Did you stay here all the time?’

  ‘Went home for a couple of days. About all I could stand. I had things to get on with here anyway.’

  They parted into their respective locker rooms.

  When she’d got her uniform on, Bea steeled her nerve and walked along the corridor to George’s office. The door was open, and Bea knocked on the frame. George looked up.

  ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘Come in. It’s Bea, isn’t it?’

  ‘Um, yes,’ Bea said, wondering how George knew her name.

  ‘Do sit down.’ George indicated the chair in front of her desk. Bea noticed a couple of framed photographs by her computer with their backs towards her, and a calendar on the wall with January’s page featuring a large photograph of a white baby seal on an iceberg. Apart from that, the office wasn’t any different from how it had been before.

  ‘So, Bea. I was going to come and find you today anyway. You may not know, but Anna’s suffered a family bereavement and is going to be off work for a couple of days – I’ve given her compassionate leave – and she mentioned to me that you’ve worked in the office before. Neville and I have managed today, but might you be able to cover the office for a few hours tomorrow, say, nine until twelve here and the rest of your shift on the checkout?’

  ‘Um, yes,’ Bea said again, aware that she was starting to sound like the village idiot. She sat up a bit straighter in the chair and smoothed her skirt. ‘Yes, I’d love to help, if I can.’

  George smiled. ‘Great. Was there anything else?’

  ‘No, that was what I was coming to ask about, actually.’

  ‘Great minds,’ said George.

  Down on the shop floor, the store was nicely buzzy. Ant was indoors today, supposedly shelf-stacking. Bea noticed him making regular detours past the checkouts, wandering along with the same empty cardboard box in his hands.

  ‘Busy?’ Bea called out to him.

  He grinned. ‘Oh yeah. Always busy.’ He came nearer and bent down to whisper in her ear. ‘I’m trying to keep out of Neville’s way. He made me tell him about the cat. He’s not happy about me putting it in the freezer, but he doesn’t want word getting out to the customers, so we might have got away with it.’

  ‘You reckon?’

  ‘Yeah. I tried not to drop Anna in it. She’s not in today and I don’t know if she’s told them why. Anyway, I’m not in tomorrow, going to First Aid training, so you’ll have to deal with it if there’s any flak.’

  ‘Oh, cheers for that. First Aid training?’

  ‘I volunteered. Tactics,’ he said, tapping the side of his nose and looking pleased with himself. ‘That’s tomorrow, though. Still got another half hour of this to do. You just started?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  The flow of customers had ebbed a little. Bea twiddled her chair round away from Ant, so she could see Jay.

  ‘So, student is it?’ said Ant, walking over to Jay’s till.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Jay. ‘Is it that obvious?’

  ‘What are you reading?’ said Bea.

  ‘Environmental studies. Birds and the bees.’ He smiled and she could feel something birdlike fluttering in her stomach again.

  ‘Is that a book?’ said Ant, resting his cardboard box on Jay’s conveyor belt.

  ‘What are you on about?’ said Bea, glancing up at him.

  ‘You asked him what he’s reading.’

  ‘That’s what you say, isn’t it? Another way of asking what they’re studying.’

  Ant’s expression darkened and he busied himself peeling a label off the side of the cardboard box.

  The tannoy crackled into life. ‘All staff on the shop floor, it’s time for a ten-minute rumble.’

  Ant started singing under his breath, ‘Let’s get, let’s get, let’s get ready to rumble.’

  ‘What’s a rumble?’ said Jay.

  ‘Just a clear-up,’ said Bea. ‘Tidying up cardboard on the shelves, empty packing, that sort of thing. Putting the fuck-its back in place.’

  ‘The what-its?’

  ‘When people change their mind and leave things just anywhere. They’re the fuck-its.’

  ‘Ha! Love it.’

  ‘I’d better get on it,’ said Ant. ‘See you tomorrow, yeah?’

  ‘Yeah, all right, Ant. See ya,’ said Bea. She watched as he took his cardboard box along the row of checkouts and then into the soups and tinned vegetable aisle. ‘Sorry about him,’ she said. ‘He’s all right really.’

  ‘It’s cool,’ said Jay, reaching for the divider on his conveyor belt and greeting his next customer, a man in his forties, wearing typical country gear – flat cap, Barbour jacket and the sort of jeans that look more like workwear than fashion. The skin on his face had a weathered quality, as if he spent a lot of time outdoors. He had six bottles of beer, a half-bottle of whisky, a couple of steaks and some frozen peas on the belt. ‘Good afternoon, sir, do you need a box for the bottles?’

  Bea watched as Jay assembled one of the cardboard bottle carriers. Neville was right, he knew the ropes all right. Good with the customers too.

  They passed the rest of the afternoon companionably. It wasn’t the same as having Dot working next to her, but he was easy on the eye and easy to get along with. She felt comfortable in his company and was enjoying thinking of little remarks and quips to amuse him. He responded gratifyingly and they were soon more than halfway through their shift.

  Charles was approaching her checkout. He seemed to be walking even more slowly than usual.

  ‘Bit late for you, isn’t it?’

  ‘I ran out of this,’ he said, patting a bag of dry dog food.

  ‘Ooh, that’ll never do. Poor old Goldie. She outside?’

  ‘Yes, she’s a good girl waiting for me.’

  Bea took his money. ‘You’re not carrying that, are you?’

  ‘No, I’ve got my trolley. I’ll be fine.’ He heaved the sack into the tartan bag on wheels and pulled the lid shut.

  ‘Okay, you take care now.’

  He tipped the brim of his tweed trilby at her. ‘Will do. Goodnight, Bea.’

  ‘Do you know all your customers?’ Jay asked from over her shoulder.

  ‘Ha! Not all of them, but quite a lot. He’s a good ’un, Charles. Bit lonely, I think. Like a lot of them. Sometimes wonder if I’m the only person he talks to all day. Apart from Goldie.’

  ‘Man’s best friend. Gotta love a dog.’

  ‘Hmm, I’ve never been a pet person. You got any?’

  ‘No, not here. Wouldn’t go down too well with my landlord. Always had dogs growing up, though. Talking about customers, did you recognise the bloke I had earlier – flat cap and Barbour jacket?’

  ‘Beer and steak?’

  Jay’s eyes grew temporarily wide. ‘Wow, yeah. How’d you do that?’

  Bea smiled. ‘It’s just my thing. Noticing stuff about the customers. Sussing them out. Makes the job more interesting.’

  Jay mimed running his finger along the edge of a blade and shook his hand vigorously, ‘Owww. Sharp as.’

  ‘Nah, just been here long enough,’ she said, hoping her skin wouldn’t betray her this time with a beetroot blush.

  ‘Did you know that bloke, Mr Barbour Jacket?’

  ‘Don’t think so. Why?’

  ‘Ah, it’s nothing. I thought I’d seen him somewhere before. Maybe just around town.’ Jay shrugged, then stretched his arms out and cracked his knuckles. ‘How much longer have we got, Bea?’

  Bea checked her watch. ‘Another two and a half hours.’

  ‘Jeez.’ He rolled his chair back a little and stood up, then, keeping his back s
traight, he folded forward and hung there for a while before standing up again.

  ‘Whoa, you’re very bendy,’ said Bea.

  ‘Yoga,’ said Jay. ‘You should try it.’

  ‘Not sure it’s my thing.’

  ‘Maybe it should be. Useful being bendy.’

  There was no stopping the blush now. Bea’s face was on fire.

  4

  It was a cold, crisp night as Bea and Jay left Costsave. A dusting of frost was already forming on the tarmac, sparkling and golden in the sodium glow from the tall lights that studded the car park.

  Jay pulled his hood up. ‘Brr,’ he said. ‘Cold enough, innit?’

  ‘Yeah. Where do you live?’

  ‘Off Jubilee Avenue.’

  It was one of the streets in the estate near the former chocolate factory, where Bea’s dad used to work, which was now being redeveloped as flats, in the opposite direction to where she was heading.

  ‘Ah, there’s quite a lot of student houses there.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘So,’ she said, unable to think of any way to prolong their conversation, ‘see you tomorrow.’

  ‘Yeah, see ya, Bea.’

  Bea turned her collar up, hunched her shoulders a little and headed into the High Street. As she turned the corner a dark figure stepped out of the first doorway. She gasped, and her heart felt as if it had been jump-started, suddenly beating like the clappers.

  ‘All right?’ said Ant.

  ‘Jesus, you numpty. You frightened the life out of me.’

  ‘Oh, sorry. I didn’t think. I was going to wait on the corner, but it’s freezing. Thought it might be warmer in the shelter of that door.’ She reached up and swatted the back of his head. ‘Sorry, Bea, hey, hey, I’ve said sorry!’

  ‘Just use your head next time. I don’t want to have to do you more serious damage.’

  ‘Got it. Point taken.’

  ‘Let’s get walking. It’s too cold to stand around. What are you even doing here, Ant?’

  ‘I needed to talk to you. I’ve got a bit of a situation.’ His voice was so serious that it instantly calmed Bea down. Ant wasn’t the most communicative bloke in the world. Something was really wrong.