Calling All Customers (Calling All... Book 3)

by Tara Ford

  “I’ve got to take him back next Thursday afternoon, so I won’t miss any more time at work.”

  “Ok, that’s great.”

  “After that, it’ll be a couple of weeks before he gets the permanent one. Will said that Xaylan must have bitten the didge incredibly hard to cause so much damage. Not to mention the damage to my didge.”

  “Will? Who’s Will?”

  “Doctor Davey – the dentist. His name is Will.”

  “Blimey, Day, you don’t waste much time, do you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know the dentist by his first name after one visit?”

  “We were having a bit of a giggle about my didge. I told him what I did when I first bought it. He thought I was really funny.”

  “I bet he did.”

  “I’ve seen him once before. When I had my checkup he was in the reception office, talking to one of the women there.”

  “Don’t tell me, you fell in love with him, first sight,” said Jenny, more inquisitive now.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “You’ve never mentioned him to me before.”

  “What was the point – didn’t think that someone like him would be interested in me.”

  “Don’t put yourself down, Day. You’re as good as anyone else.”

  “Yes I know and I’m working on it now.”

  “On what?”

  “On Will, of course.” Dayna pulled the jumper over her head and then lifted her long, dark curls out from her neck. “He fancies me – I can tell.”

  Tasha was raring to go when the time approached four. Unusually excitable, she paced up and down the aisles, moving this and straightening that. “Do you think it’ll work?” Tasha asked, as she returned to the counter.

  “Hope so,” replied Jenny, unsure whether it would help or hinder her efforts to gain customers. “Might frighten everyone away.”

  “No… I don’t think it will frighten people away. They’ll be curious as to what is going on in here.”

  “Hmm,” muttered Jenny, “hope you’re right.”

  Dayna was the first to walk through the door. Followed by one, two, three…

  Twelve women, seven pushchairs, eight children, around Xaylan’s age (including Xaylan) and approximately 15 younger children, were in the shop, according to Jenny’s last head count. It was packed and the two men who were already inside, looked decidedly worried by the surge of noisy children, crying babies and chattering, gossipy mums. Fighting their way to the counter, while Dayna was attempting to introduce every single mum to Jenny and Tasha, who were stood behind the counter in a daze, the two men paid for their goods and left swiftly. It was pandemonium.

  As previously instructed by Dayna, each of the mums and her small tribe of followers, walked around the shop, picking items up, looking at things and generally appearing to be shopping. They all carried large shopping bags on their shoulders and one woman had a huge holdall. She looked like she should have been perusing the aisles in an airport shop, before flying off for a month’s holiday. Her empty holdall was a ridiculous size.

  From time to time, Dayna strutted her stuff outside the shop, along with a couple of her friends. Swinging her lime-green bag and clicking her heels on the pavement, Dayna stopped, peered in the window and pointed. Her exaggerated movements were comical, to say the least. As a bus rolled by, Dayna took a newspaper from her bag, opened it up and pretended to read it. Luckily for her, the late afternoon sun was beaming down on J’s Convenience Store, creating a warm glow around the hive of activity.

  “There should be some more yet,” said Dayna, grinning from ear to ear, as she returned inside. ”Haven’t you noticed outside?”

  “Yes, passers-by looking in you mean – and looking at you, inquisitively?”

  “And the bus – did you see that go past?”

  “No,” replied Jenny, piling up more Choco bars on the counter.

  “There were loads of kids on there, they were all looking in.” Dayna puffed her chest out and put on her conceited look, by smiling tight lipped and squinting her eyes.

  “Don’t they normally look in anyway?”

  “Yeah but curiosity will get the better of them today, so they will get off the bus and walk this way, instead of the other.”

  “Ok, we’ll see. I do hope you’re right.” Jenny really did hope that her friend was right. She’d gone to a lot of trouble.

  The door opened and Andrea Douglass, from the nursery, walked in. Halting in her stride, she looked down the first aisle and then across to the small crowd, gathered by the counter. With a puzzled expression she moved across the front end of the shop and proceeded down the second aisle. Weaving her way through the bodies, Andrea collected two large cartons of milk and made her way back to the counter. “Blimey, you’re busy,” she said, plonking the milk on the counter. “Where have all these people come from?”

  “They’re Dayna’s friends,” Jenny replied. “More milk? Didn’t we give you enough in your order this morning?”

  “Yes – we’ve got our AGM this evening and then the owner has organized a big dinner for everyone.”

  “Oh, I see.” Jenny keyed the amount in the till and then looked up, “Do you want them added to your bill?”

  “No, I’ll pay for them separately. It’s a different account.” Andrea looked back along the second aisle, “So why are all of her friends in here then?”

  “Between you and me, Dayna thought that if the shop looked busier, it would encourage more people to come in.”

  “I’d say that it would have the opposite effect, folk around here can’t be bothered with fighting their way through crowds or waiting in queues to be served. You might have just gone and shot yourself in the foot, as they would say.”

  “Oh dear, do you think so?”

  “Hmm,” muttered Andrea. Grabbing the milk from the counter with both hands, she turned to leave. “I’m sure I’ve said it before – you’ll be hard pushed to make a living around here. No one else has managed it yet – except us, of course. And that’s had a lot to do with me,” she said, pompously, before gliding out of the shop with a smug look on her face.

  Jenny and Tasha looked at each other, stunned by Andrea’s lack of tact and her negative prediction.

  “Just ignore her, Jenny. She’s obviously jealous because you own your shop and she’s just the manager of the nursery.”

  “Hmm… I do wish it was this busy all of the time though.” Through the mirror, Jenny watched Dayna and her friends, walking around and talking about the products they held in their hands. Dayna’s enthusiasm was infectious.

  “It will be, give it time. My mum is coming in at the weekend to have a look around.”

  “That’s nice… tell her to bring about 50 friends with her then.” Jenny feigned a light-hearted laugh but really wasn’t feeling it.

  Fifteen mums, in total, had visited the shop. The sales had rocketed as the average spend, by Jenny’s calculation, was peaking at around £12 per head. Elated by its success, Jenny had happily given every child a Choco bar and the mums got their local newspaper for free, as previously arranged. A couple of the mums had even said that they would try and get up at least once a week but Jenny didn’t hold out much hope – after all, why would they come all this way?

  Two hours had passed. Dayna, Xaylan and his temporary crown had left and Jenny was exhausted. If her shop ever got this busy, she would definitely employ another person. Time would tell and although the initial sales figures had been far short of what she had been expecting for the new shop, she still had hope for the future. This afternoon had been more like it.

  But, when everything returned to the norm, there wasn’t a rush of kids from the buses or an influx of curious passers-by or indeed, any sort of countable increase to the footfall. Jenny pondered over the expected impact of Dayna’s unusual idea and came to the conclusion that there was nothing to draw from the conclusion. It hadn’t worked, in the long run.

  One
car, two cars, three cars and then some more. At half past seven Millen Road was beginning to look like a jumbo car park. Cars, vans and the odd motorbike lined the road, on both sides, nose to tail. Then the parking bays began to fill, then the side road became cluttered. Upon inspection, Jenny noted that the car park at the rear of the shops was also, dangerously full. Like the Road Block game, Jenny tried to figure out just how everyone was going to get out of the small parking area without hitting anyone else. It was car chaos.

  “I’ve just realised what it is,” Jenny thought out loud. “For a minute there I thought they might all be coming here – huh – no such luck. They’re all going to the nursery, it’s their AGM tonight. They’ve got some dinner event going on too.”

  “What’s that?” asked Tasha. “What’s an AGM?”

  “Annual General Meeting. Andrea said that it was tonight.” Jenny peered through the blinds again. “Didn’t realise there would be so many cars though. Look – they’re parked in my bays as well.”

  Tasha peeped out of the window. “They shouldn’t park there should they?”

  “No they shouldn’t… those are my bays. Bloody cheek… and I bet they don’t even come in here to buy anything.”

  Tasha moved away from the window. “Are you going to say anything?”

  “Well it’s a bit late now, they’ve already gone into the nursery.”

  “Ooh,” replied Tasha. “I’ll carry on with facing-up, shall I?”

  “Yes, thanks Tasha. I don’t expect we’ll be busy now… certainly not with any customers who might have driven here.”

  J’s Convenience Store didn’t see more than eight people before close and Jenny couldn’t help thinking that the congestion had something to do with it. Dayna’s efforts, earlier in the day had been fruitless after the evening’s takings of less than twenty pounds.

  Whichever way she tried, Jenny was not going to squeeze her car through the gap without taking either her own or someone else’s wing mirror off. The other options were, to go to the nursery and find out who the car belonged to or move all of the commercial bins out of the way.

  After an exhausting, mind-numbing day, she really didn’t fancy the idea of going to the nursery, explaining her predicament and waiting until they found the owner of the car. It was past 10.30pm and the growing thump in her head had been singing in unison with the nightly thumps from above, earlier. No, she would move the bins out of the way, pull over somewhere – she didn’t know where – and then pull the 1100 litre bins back to their places.

  The first two bins were full as the fortnightly rubbish disposal was due tomorrow. ‘Typical’, thought Jenny as she pulled and heaved a heavy container down the pathway and parked it alongside her shop. The next two bins, which belonged to the nursery, were over-flowing with rubbish bags. Building up a sweat, Jenny just managed to inch the first stinking container away from the car park and down to the side of the shop. With aching legs, she returned to the last bin.

  “Oi!” A man’s voice hollered from the flats above. “What you doing?”

  Jenny looked up to see the man who lived above her shop. Hanging out from a back window, he scowled, threateningly, at her.

  “I’m sorry but I can’t get my car out. I’ll put them back in a minute.”

  “Don’t make so much noise about it then,” shouted the obnoxious man.

  “I do apologise,” replied Jenny, sheepishly.

  “Some of us are trying to sleep, you know.” The man glared down at Jenny and then pulled his head in and slammed his window shut.

  By the time Jenny had moved all four bins, the pavement was inaccessible. She hoped and prayed that the AGM/dinner event wouldn’t finish now as the people would have to walk in the middle of the road to get round to the car park.

  In hindsight, Jenny decided that it would have been easier to track down the culprit of the parked car as she climbed into her own and turned the engine on. Fearing that the man upstairs would come down and start shouting his mouth off again, Jenny swiftly exited the carpark, drove down the road and halted at the end. There just wasn’t anywhere to park, at all. Turning left, she went along to the next road and drove up it, looking for a big enough space to park her faithful old jeep.

  Wrapping the belt of her coat tightly around her, Jenny tied a knot and tugged at it hard. The cold, autumn air whipped across her face as she speedily made her way back to the shop, two blocks away. Glancing at her watch, she cursed. The time was approaching eleven o’clock. She still had to put the bins back, as quietly as she could, and then walk back to her car. By the time she got home it would be getting near to midnight. It would be a case of straight to bed and then straight back to work again in the morning.

  With a full bin in tow, Jenny stared, horrified, at the sight in front of her eyes. A small blue car had squeezed into the bin area. She’d been gone ten minutes and now someone had parked right where she needed to get to. ‘Argh!’ screeched Jenny, under her breath. As her ever worsening headache impaired her judgement, she attempted to pull the cumbersome bin, with all her might, through the gap between two parked cars.

  Crack!

  The right-hand wing mirror hung by a wire, down the side of the blue car’s door. Jenny’s heart skipped a beat as she realised what had happened. Not daring to pull the bin any further through the gap, she reversed her actions and pushed it back along the pavement. Tears pricked at her eyes. Why hadn’t she gone into the nursery in the first place? A vision of Aaron entered her mind but he wasn’t being sympathetic, he was laughing his head off. Once again, she had been rather foolish.

  Returning to the damaged car, Jenny crouched down to see if she could repair it. Suddenly, she froze as she listened intently – there were people coming towards her.

  As the voices drew closer, Jenny could hear odd words of the conversation, between two people. ‘Meeting’… ‘Bloody cheek’… ‘Nursery’… ‘Nice meal’.

  “Bloody hell. You – you stupid girl – you made me jump,” said a tall young woman, dressed in a long black coat and carrying a large, shiny briefcase. The man beside her looked frail in comparison, his weak and delicate stance highlighted by the formidable woman towering above him. “What the hell are you doing down there?”

  “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry… is this… err… your car?” asked Jenny as the woman twirled a set of keys around her finger. Rising from her crouched position, Jenny held the wing mirror in one hand, still attached to the car by a wire.

  “What the bloody hell are you doing?” The woman’s heavily mascaraed eyes glared down into Jenny’s and tore strips from her soul.

  “Look, I am so sorry… I had a bit of an acc…”

  “You’ve snapped my wing mirror off.” The woman stepped closer, towering over Jenny. “Tom, call the police.”

  “I don’t think there’s any need to call the police, Tracey.”

  “Look, I will pay for the damage to your car – I am truly sorry,” Jenny spluttered, pleadingly.

  “Where’s your car then?” the surly woman demanded. “Watch her Tom – she’s liable to do a runner.”

  “I hit it with that wheelie bin,” replied Jenny, pointing to the container behind them.

  “Oh.” The woman feigned an insane laugh, ‘Ha, ha, ha!’ “So you’re going to tell me that it was the bins fault, are you? Tom call the police – now!”

  “No, I’m not – it’s entirely my fault and I’m more than happy to pay for the repair.”

  “Calm down,” said the meek and mild man, beside her. “We’ll take her details and send her the bill, it’s simple.”

  “Yes, well don’t let her fob you off with a name like Rusty Clutter, will you Tom? You’ve been fobbed off before – you brainless idiot.” The woman’s disparaging remarks were unnerving.

  The man, called Tom, shook his head and pulled a small notepad from an inside pocket of his smart suit jacket. “Your name?”

  “My name is Jenny Fartor”

  “Can you spell that?” aske
d the man, meekly.

  “F A R T O R.”

  The woman peered down at Tom’s notepad. “She’s taking the piss – that says ‘farter’, Tom. For goodness sake – can’t you see? Call the police!”

  “I can assure you that I am being serious. My name is Fartor – it’s pronounced Fa-toar. I know it looks like something different but it is Fa-toar. I own the shop here. If you’d both like to come inside I can prove who I am.”

  Tom nodded his head and looked up at the woman beside him for approval. “Come on Tracey it’s cold out here.”

  “Ok,” said the woman, sternly. “Hurry up about it – I want to get home.”

  Turning round the corner, the man and woman waited at the door, while Jenny unlocked it.

  Pouring out from the nursery, the people from the AGM event had finally finished their meeting and meal. Swiftly piling into cars parked along the way, up the side road and round the back, the nursery people were gone within minutes. Millen Road turned back into the sleepy suburb it had been before.

  Another ten minutes passed and then Jenny was locking her shop door again. The odd couple had agreed to pop the repair bill into the shop by next week and then they had left without so much as a thank you or goodbye. With frazzled nerves, Jenny walked the short journey back to her car and drove home. The four wheelie bins remained on the pavement, where Jenny had left them. After the day she’d had, she did not want the man upstairs moaning at her again or worse still, coming down the stairs. It would have been a foregone conclusion – Jenny would have lumped him one, if he had.

  Chapter 20

  J’s shop

  To the shop,

  I am not happy about all the noise

  and commotion. It went on all afternoon

  and the evening was flaming stupid. What is

  going on in your shop? I do not want to have to

  listen to cars revving their engines at the

  back of the building, half way through

  the bloody night, or look out of my