by Tara Ford
Moments later, Jenny spotted another man walking towards the shop… with yet another old and well-worn looking dog. The big black dog walked along beside the man, without a lead. Now and again it would stop, sniff a lamppost and then waddle along, behind him again.
“Morning,” said the elderly man as he approached Jenny. The man eyed Wilbur curiously. “Is that Wilbur – Dolly’s dog – you’ve got there?”
“Yes,” said Jenny. “She’s in my shop having a look around.”
Apart from a few weary wags of tails, the dogs didn’t stir as they all came together. Old people – old dogs, thought Jenny. It was like the dogs all knew each other.
“Ah, so you’re the new owner. Well, I hope you do better than old Jim,” puffed the man. His glowing, wrinkled face suggested that he’d walked a fair distance with his dog. Or maybe he was just very old and out of breath.
“Err… yes I am.” Jenny peered, sharply, back into the shop to see where the petite old lady with the toilet rolls was. She was down the end aisle again but this time she was hugging a pack of kitchen paper towels in her arms whilst perusing the information on the backs of crisp packets and other savoury snacks. “Who’s Jim?” Jenny enquired.
“He used to own this place, some years ago. He had a newsagents like this.”
“Oh, I see. So he didn’t do very well with his business then?”
“No, he scared the kids around here and they wouldn’t come in. He only had one arm.” The man beckoned to his dog to sit. “He had a hook, instead of his left hand and the kids had teased him for years.”
“Oh dear.”
“He started wearing an eye-patch as well, after an operation on his cataracts and told all of the kids that he was from a ghost pirate ship.”
“Oh, I can see why that might have frightened the kids,” said Jenny, feeling slightly bemused, not only by the story she was hearing but the whole situation that she had come to find herself in.
“When the parent’s heard the stories, they stopped using the shop too. Then poor old Jim did a flit one night. He’d been struggling to make ends meet for a while. He was never to be seen or heard from again.”
“Oh gosh. Well hopefully, it will work out ok for me… I do hope so anyway… and especially as I have an alcohol license – that helps.”
“I’m sure it will my lover. The name’s John.” The man stretched out a hand.
“I’m Jenny,” said Jenny, holding out her free hand to shake his. “Call me, Jen.”
“May I have a look around?”
“Sure.” Jenny eyed the big dog which was obediently sat by John’s side.
“Don’t worry about him, he should stay there and wait for me. You don’t need to hold on to him.” John laughed, turned to his dog and said, ‘stay’ and then went into the shop.
Now this is getting totally bizarre, Jenny mused and mumbled to herself, there are five people in my shop and I am stood outside with three antique pooches. What on earth would Dayna think if she turned up now? She’d laugh her bloody head off and probably go inside and join them. Jenny was growing more and more frustrated. Not so much by the fact that she was stuck outside, but more so, by the complete lack of consideration of the group of people, yakking, down the end of her shop.
Chapter 7
The ringtone stopped, “Hello?”
“Dad – it’s Jen.”
“Hello love.”
“Dad, I need some dog hooks fitted…”
“Dog hooks?”
“Yes – to hook dogs on.”
“On to what love?”
“I mean, dog leads. I’ve just had a nightmare Dad – you wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”
“You’re selling dog leads?”
“No Dad.” Jenny rubbed her brow and then peered through the window to see if anyone was coming up or down the road. All clear. “I need some hooks for the outside, under the windows somewhere. So that the customers can hook their dog leads on them.”
“Oh, I see. I’ll pop in this morning and have a look. I may even have something in the van.”
“Thanks Dad, you’re a superstar. I’ll explain when I see you about my doggish nightmare of a morning so far.”
Jenny’s dad laughed down the other end of the phone, “It’s only just ten to eight, Jen, and you’ve had a nightmare morning already?”
“Yeah Dad – there are some weird characters around here, I tell you.”
“Ok, I’ll see you in an hour or so, love.”
“Thanks again Dad.”
Placing the phone back in its base, under the counter, Jenny sighed. She hadn’t even been open for an hour yet but she was already stressed out. Peering up at the ‘Welcome’ display, Jenny noted that two of the champagne flutes had been knocked over and a dribble of Buck’s Fizz rested on the shelf. She grabbed a cloth from under the counter and proceeded to clean up the display.
“Yoo-hoo, only me.”
Jenny smiled as she heard the familiar, shrill cry of a very welcome friend.
“No customers yet then?”
Turning round, Jenny watched Dayna totter into the shop and over to the counter – primarily to hang on to it for dear life – wearing her usual, four inch high stiletto shoes.
“Are you seriously going to wear those in here all day?” asked Jenny, shaking her head and grinning.
“Nah, brought my flip-flops. Had any customers then? It’s a bit dead in here. I was expecting to make a glorified entrance into a shop full of people.”
“Huh… you won’t believe it, Day.”
“What?” Dayna began to rummage through her oversized bag and pulled out her yellow flip-flops.
“Go and make a cup of tea and then I’ll explain all,” replied Jenny. “You’re going to love this, Day – it’s been like a bloody community centre, forward slash, Battersea Dog’s Home, forward slash, Alcoholics Anonymous group meeting in here this morning.”
“Blimey,” said Dayna, chucking her flip-flops on the floor, sliding her disfigured feet (disfigured from years of wearing terribly high shoes) into them and then grabbing her bag and heels. “I’ll be right back,” she said as she flipped and flopped her way down to the end of the shop.
“I’m not kidding you, I think that she was drunk by the time she left here,” said Jenny, sipping her tea, behind the counter.
“I’m coming in early if it’s going to be that much fun in here at seven o’clock in the morning.”
“No, seriously, Day… she’s a bit odd you know. The little old Irish woman bought toilet rolls, kitchen towel for her birds to play ‘nest-building’ with, bleach cleaner to clean their cage out, six packets of crisps – in case she runs out of bird seed (they like ready-salted crisps) and a tub of vanilla ice-cream which she may share with her birds, if they’re good. It was already starting to melt by the time she left.”
“Well at least you’ve sold some stuff then,” said Dayna, cheerily.
“Yes, I suppose I should be grateful. Think I heard her life story in ten minutes flat as well.”
“So you’ve had an eventful morning so far, made some sales and some new friends –exactly what you wanted.” Dayna laughed, just as a new customer walked through the door. “Good morning,” Dayna bellowed.
Jenny smiled at the woman and greeted her with the same.
“Thank heavens your dad’s coming to sort out some dog hooks though. Seriously, if I’d seen you stood outside, caring for the local pack of canines, I would have laughed my head off, Jen.”
“Oh, I know you would have… that’s what I was more worried about.”
The girls giggled and then stopped suddenly as the short woman, dressed in a navy blue fleece and black trousers, came up to the counter with six, 2-litre cartons of milk. “It’s cheaper in here. Think I’ll get it from you each morning.”
“Each morning!” replied Dayna, “How much milk do you go through?”
“I run the nursery up there,” said the woman, pointing with a finger.
“Oh right, nice to meet you then. I’m Dayna… and that’s Jenny.”
“Cool, I’ve seen you both around here just lately. Suppose you’ve been helping to get the shop done up. It looks good.”
Jenny smiled politely and nodded her head.
“It’s her shop…” Dayna pointed to Jenny. “She owns it.”
“Oh, I see,” said the woman. “Well my name’s Andrea Doo-Glass. I’m the manager of ‘Small Steps’.”
“Nice to meet you,” said Jenny, offering a handshake.
Shyly, Andrea returned the gesture with a delicate hand and then her face flushed. “Have you met any of the other owners along here yet?”
“No I haven’t. I’ve seen people coming and going but I wouldn’t know who is who.”
“Oh,” replied, Andrea, before bowing her head and looking down into her purse. “There are all sorts along the way. I’m sure they’ll all come in here at some point.”
“Ah good. I look forward to meeting them.”
“Hmm…” muttered Andrea. “I’ll have a receipt as well please.” Passing a debit card over, she appeared to wait nervously. Shuffling from one foot to the other, scratching her head and rubbing her nose, Andrea looked impatient as well. “Well I must be off – the children will be waiting for their breakfasts. Goodbye. Oh, and good luck – you’ll need it round here.”
“That sounded a bit ominous,” said Dayna. “Don’t you think?”
“I’m really not sure what to think about this place at the moment, Day. Seems to me, there are a few odd characters around here, so far.”
“Ah, it’ll be fine Jen. Have faith. In what? I don’t know yet.”
“Psst… Dayna…” Jenny stood on tiptoes, peering over the shelving unit. “Psst,” she said, holding her pointed finger in the direction of the tiny lady who had just walked into the shop.
From behind the counter, Dayna looked up and frowned at Jenny’s frantically pointing finger.
“That’s her… the woman from this morning. Toilet roll woman,” she tried to whisper, as she edged towards the front of the counter.
“Oh – is it?” Dayna watched the old woman scurry down the length of the shop.
“Yes, she must have forgotten something. She was only here an hour ago.”
“Could turn out to be your best customer, Jen – don’t knock it.”
The two girls watched the woman through the large, circular mirror above the door, which gave a bird’s eye view of most of the shop floor, when standing at the counter. The little old lady picked up a pack of four toilet rolls and tucked them under her arm.
“What does she need them for?” whispered Jenny. “She bought a pack of those an hour ago.”
Dayna cupped her hand across her mouth and giggled. “Looks like she’s getting some more kitchen towel too – she must have some bloody big birds, that’s all I can say.”
Jenny couldn’t help herself and let out a snort of laughter. “I’m going,” she breathed, “you can serve her this time… you might get to hear her life story too.” Jenny sneaked off down the other aisle and out to the back office.
Seated at her new office desk, Jenny could hear Dayna asking the woman if she would like any help. She strained to listen to the conversation that Dayna was striking up with her and again, it was about the woman’s life story. A few minutes later, Jenny heard the till make beeping noises and she assumed that Dayna was serving the woman.
Glancing at the small pile of invoices on her desk, Jenny screwed her nose up and then pushed them to the back of the desk. She did not want to be doing paperwork on opening day. She wanted to be out on the shop floor, meeting and greeting customers and having a laugh with Dayna. She decided that the real hard work could start tomorrow. Standing up, she moved over to the door and listened. No sound. Jenny walked back out to the shop floor and along the aisle to where Dayna stood, behind the counter. “Did you get her life story in three minutes flat then?”
“Oh yes, and I asked her why she needed more toilet rolls and kitchen towel. And we’ll have to take that bottle of champers off the shelf – she took a swig straight from it.”
Jenny looked over to the display and could see that one of the bottles, behind the champagne flutes, had been moved to the front of the shelf.
“Oh gosh, wonder if she’s an alcoholic. What did she say when you asked her about the loo rolls?” asked Jenny, curiously.
“She said that she didn’t know what I was talking about because she’d never been in this new shop before.”
“Really?”
“Really,” Dayna replied, “Guess that either you have been telling me little fib-lets, she has got a twin sister or she’s completely insane.”
Jenny laughed out loud, just as a couple of elderly men walked through the door, beaming and peering around the interior of the shop.
“Morning,” said one man, “Looks nice in here – done a good job.”
“My bet is, dementia,” whispered Dayna, with a smile, before she proceeded to chat to the two men in what Jenny thought was a most flirtatious way.
Chapter 8
Lunchtime couldn’t come soon enough for Jenny. Although the morning had gone very quickly, she felt like she had expelled a vast amount of nervous energy – unlike Dayna, who was taking everything in her stride. And that was why Jenny had wanted Dayna to work in the shop with her in the first place.
Dayna did have some failings when it came to a courteous manner or tact but her finer qualities were exactly what Jenny thought the customers would want. A humorous, flirtatious and sometimes quite rowdy person, Dayna could get on well with practically anyone and certainly with men of all ages. She loved to dish out cheeky remarks to anyone that cared to listen. She could also stand up for herself, should a situation arise. She was clever and strong-minded and the leaning post that Jenny may just need to lean upon should any hair-pulling moments arise.
Tasha turned up promptly at five minutes to twelve with a wide grin on her face. “I’m excited but nervous,” she said quietly, leaning over the counter.
“We haven’t had that many people in this morning but let’s hope the word is spreading that we’re open now,” said Jenny.
Tasha nodded, “I’ll just go and put my stuff in the staff room. Be right back.”
“Yes sure and feel free to make yourself a drink and bring it up, if you’d like.”
“Is that ok?” remarked Tasha.
“Yes, of course. We’ve been on the tea all morning – haven’t we, Day?”
Dayna poked her head around the shelving unit where she had been rearranging the ready salted crisps. “Yeah – if you’re making one, Tasha, then I’ll have one please.”
Tasha smiled again and walked off.
“You might need to get some extra ready salted in, Jen. If that woman runs out of bird seed, she could clear us out.”
Jenny laughed and then wrote ‘Ready salted crisps to replace bird seed?’ on her homemade order sheet which she kept under the counter for everyone to add items to. “I’m going for my lunch break, Day. Hold the fort.”
“No problem,” replied Dayna and stepped up to the counter, looking like a woman on a mission to cajole and entice the next unprepared person that walked through the door.
Opening her sandwich bag, Jenny picked up the limp bread containing grated cheese and salad cream and proceeded to eat it. After the second mouthful, she placed it back into the bag. She really wasn’t feeling that hungry. Having shared yet another pack of six crumpets with Dayna at 9.30, she was still full. Leaning back in the office chair, Jenny placed her hands on top of her head. This was day one of her new business and it hadn’t quite gone as she had imagined. She could hear the till making its kerching noise from time to time but there hadn’t been as many people through the door as she had expected. Now and again, Jenny listened to the strange, unknown voices talking as they went around the shop and the sound of Dayna’s laughter resonating along the shelving units. As long as Dayna was making
a raucous noise everything had to be going well out on the shop floor.
Closing her eyes, Jenny stretched back in the reclined chair. Fifteen minutes of her two hour lunch break had passed and if she thought about it hard enough, she knew that she had lots of things to do. The only problem was that she had no inclination to do any of it. It had been a long struggle over many months to get to this day and now she felt slightly deflated and worn out. These extended lunch breaks were designed to be her time to catch up with things, nip into town if she had to, but also they were meant for catching up with some much needed sleep. So that was what she would do – have a quick nap.
Her dad wasn’t due back until around 5pm, with the dog hooks. It turned out that he did have some hooks in his van but they weren’t big enough, by far. Jenny had offered to nip into town to get them herself, in her lunch break but her dear old dad was going to the builder’s wholesalers anyway and had said he would get the right ones.
Grabbing her sweatshirt from the back of the chair, Jenny wrapped it around her shoulders, lifted her legs up onto the desk and reclined the swivel chair as far back as it would go. Then she slept.
Some 35 minutes later, Jenny awoke to the sound of Dayna’s voice, just outside of the door.
“Oh, her name is Jenny, she’s on her lunch break at the moment.”
“Ah yes… Jenny… young Jenny, I know her.”
“Yes, you met her this morning. She served you with toilet rolls I do believe,” said Dayna, in what Jenny thought was an amplified way, just like when she talked to people who were hard of hearing. Jenny imagined that Dayna would also be pulling faces and speaking with distorted, over-exaggerated mouth movements too.
