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

by Tara Ford

  Don’t think you’re keeping that

  disgusting looking, bit of cloth sticking

  out all the time. I’m contacting the

  council this week. This is out of order.

  I can’t see the pavement outside my

  flipping window. How dare you!

  As for the work your builders did

  on Sunday – it woke me up. Shouldn’t

  builders have a day off on Sundays?

  Obviously, not your builders! You have

  no care or consideration for anyone

  but yourself.

  You’ll be hearing from the council soon.

  From D upstairs.

  He’s got a bloody nerve, thought Jenny. Tossing the note under the counter, she strolled down the shop, flicking fridge lights on, as she went. She would pay ‘D upstairs’ a visit today. Once Tasha and Dayna were covering lunch, she would go up there and have a quiet word with the man. Jenny was calm, for some strange reason. The note hadn’t fazed her in the slightest. She was empowered by the thought of seeing Aaron again on Friday. She could and she would sort out every little niggle that had started to turn her lifelong dream of owning her own shop, into a living, breathing nightmare. Aaron had breathed a new sense of worth into her, she had inhaled a new determination to deal with all that is, or was, wrong in her life. And that included Calvin, should he cause any problems once he got a sniff about her new, blossoming relationship. Today was ‘Go Jenny!’ day.

  ‘Go Jenny!’ day lasted for 45 minutes, in fact, right up until Dolly walked into the shop.

  “It’s not in keeping with the rest of the block, is it?” she said, pointing to the top of the window.

  “The awning you mean?” Jenny replied, averting her glare away from Dolly’s powder-puff face.

  “No one else has one of those along here. It looks out of place.”

  “Well I thought it looked very nice, Dolly. Have you seen it when it’s extended?”

  “No.” Dolly picked up her paper and hobbled across the floor. “Wilbur didn’t like it. He was looking up at it as we came along. I thought he was going to start barking at it.”

  “Ok… if Wilbur doesn’t like it… then I guess it will have to come down.”

  “Oh, don’t be silly, dear. You can’t take it down now – just because my dog doesn’t like it. You’ll leave horrible, big holes in the walls… and then it will really look unsightly.”

  “So what do you suggest, Dolly?” Jenny thought for a moment. “Hang on a minute – didn’t you come in yesterday morning?”

  “Yes. You know I did.”

  “Well it was there yesterday. Why didn’t Wilbur worry about it then?”

  “We were in a rush yesterday, dear. Church choir practice.”

  “You hung around here long enough,” replied Jenny, abruptly. “You – or should I say, Wilbur, must have noticed it then.”

  “Yes I… we err… did, dear. I didn’t have the time to mention it to you.”

  “Dolly, I get the distinct impression that you like a good tittle-tattle and a good old-fashioned moan.” Too late – Jenny couldn’t retract the words. All she could do was wait for the aftermath and by the expression on Dolly’s face… it was going to be bad.

  “I beg your pardon!”

  “Sorry, Dolly. I’m just sick and tired of people sticking their nose in where it’s not wanted.” Jenny heaved a sigh. “I don’t mean to dig at you… I’ve had a lot of problems to deal with lately.”

  “I’ve never been so insulted in all of my life.” Dolly snatched her paper from the counter. “All I was saying was, the residents around here, may not like the new look of your shop. It sticks out from the rest.”

  “Look, I do apologise, Dolly. I’ve been stressed out and over-tired… and as for the residents… well, there are some very odd characters around here and I don’t particularly value their opinion much anyway.”

  Dolly’s mouth fell open. “And what do you mean by that?”

  “Nothing that concerns you – I can assure you. You’re probably one of the regulars that keeps me sane,” Jenny lied. She had to lie. She didn’t want to risk losing Dolly or any of the other dog-walking members of her little, in-house community centre. Dolly’s gossipy potential could be capable of destroying all of that.

  Dolly huffed. “You should have thought about all of that, my dear, before you took on the heavy burden of running your own shop… on your own… and at such a young, inexperienced age.”

  “Believe it or not but I am very experienced in the retail trade, Dolly.” Jenny curbed the desire to tell her where to go.

  “You can’t have that much experience, dear, you’re still a baby.” Dolly sneered. “Now, when you get to my age,” she continued, while waving a crooked finger in the air, “then you will have many, many years of experience.”

  “Ok, Dolly. Well, thanks for giving me your point of view. However, I do need the awning up there as the sun pours in through the windows, and it can get very hot. I’ve got a lot of chocolate here that could melt.”

  “If you’d been a little more experienced in these things, dear, you might have considered air conditioning.”

  “Can’t afford it.”

  “So that’s where experience comes in,” said Dolly, placing one hand on a hip.

  “Not sure how experience could afford me air-con.”

  “Experience is time. Time is money. Isn’t that what they say?”

  “No… well, yes – that is what they say, Dolly, but it doesn’t mean that you get money from time – it’s the opposite, in fact.”

  Dolly huffed, lifted her coat sleeve and peered at her watch. “Well I don’t have any more time to waste. I’ve got choir practice this morning which, incidentally, doesn’t cost me any money. Goodbye.” Tucking the paper under her arm, Dolly left the shop, untied Wilbur and waddled off down the road.

  Wanna meet for lunch today, I’m in your area?

  Jenny tutted, and then typed a reply. Thanks Calvin but I’m busy. Let’s move on from here, please. I haven’t got time for this.

  Just being friendly! You’re so uncool these days – get a grip, Jen.

  Dayna flew in the door at one minute past eight. “Sorry I’m late – bloody Xaylan – he’s a pain to get up in the mornings.”

  “You’re hardly late, Day. It’s not a problem, at all.”

  Dayna raced off down the first aisle, to the staffroom. Moments later she returned, puffing and panting.

  “You in a rush to go somewhere today?” asked Jenny, laughing at her friend. “And where’s our tea and crumpets? Jenny frowned at the apparent urgency in Dayna’s face.

  “Yeah, will do, in a minute.” Dayna walked behind the counter. “Have a good night, last night?” she whispered.

  “Why are you whispering? There’s no one in here.”

  Dayna grinned. “You never know in this place. Could be hidden microphones and cameras…”

  “What?”

  “Well, it’s the psycho-shop in psycho-land isn’t it?” Dayna sneered. “Probably got surveillance cameras on every street corner around here – to make sure that no one acts normal.”

  Jenny laughed. “For your information, I had a really nice evening. Went to a lovely restaurant, out in the sticks somewhere.”

  “And?”

  “And then he drove me home.”

  “And?” Dayna leant closer. “And then?”

  “And then he drove away and I went to bed.”

  “What – on your own?”

  “On my own.” Jenny shrugged. “Just me and teddy.” Rolling her bottom lip, she fluttered her eyelashes, trying to look sad.

  “Seriously? No way.” Dayna frowned. “No sex then?”

  “None.” Jenny paused. “It’s not like that. He’s kissed me a couple of times – that’s it.”

  “Don’t you want to?”

  “Hasn’t crossed my mind.” Jenny lied, for the second time in less than an hour.

  Dayn
a peered, with narrowed eyes, into Jenny’s eyes. “Thought you fancied him…”

  “I do. It’s just not that easy, Day. I don’t get a lot of spare time, as you well know, and now he’s gone off to Germany for the rest of the week.” Jenny looked down. “I don’t see it going very far, very quickly at all.”

  “Well you’ve got to work at it, Jen. He seems like a nice fella – don’t let him slip.”

  “I won’t… but I did say to you, only the other day, it’s near on impossible for me to have a proper relationship at the moment.”

  “Nothing’s impossible,” said Dayna, grinning, as she passed by Jenny and left the counter. “Work at it – find time – don’t sleep. Get some crumpet in your life… and in the meantime, I’ll put the crumpets on.”

  Just ten minutes after Tasha had arrived, Jenny put her coat on and drew in a deep breath. “Right, I’m going up there,” she said with conviction.

  “Are we doing this?” asked Tasha, holding up the awning’s remote control and smiling sarcastically. She had just read the latest note.

  “If it wasn’t so gloomy, I would have said yes – absolutely.”

  The awning couldn’t go out today. Grey clouds had billowed past the window all morning, blown along by a chilly and furious, northern wind.

  “I should be back in ten minutes – if not, call in the cavalry.”

  “Just be careful, Jen. Don’t want you being hurled down the stairs or anything else like that,” said Dayna. “I’ve got enough to do, without scraping you up off the floor.”

  “Ha-ha, very funny.” Jenny edged towards the door. “Be back soon…”

  The wind whistled around the railings at the top of the stairs. Letting go of the hand rail, Jenny stepped across the walkway. She rapped her knuckles on the front door, stood back and waited. And waited.

  Looking across the car park, from this high level, Jenny could see the new housing estate in the distance. She wondered how many of the residents there knew that her shop existed, just a short side path away from them. It would be a shorter distance by foot, to travel to Jenny’s shop than to go anywhere else in the surrounding area. In fact, Jenny’s shop was nearer to the housing estate via any means of travel.

  She tapped her knuckles on the half-glass door again.

  “Who is it?” came a muffled voice from the other side of the door. A dark coloured curtain prevented Jenny from seeing the silhouette, in full, on the other side.

  “Hello – this is Jenny, from downstairs.”

  “Who?”

  “Jenny – I own the shop downstairs.”

  “What do you want?” The man’s petulant voice was surly and unnerving.

  “I’d like to talk to you if that’s possible.” Jenny bit her lip. Was this the right thing to do?

  “What about?”

  “Would it be possible to speak with you, face to face?”

  “Why?”

  “Rather than shouting through your door…” Jenny scanned the area, hoping that no one could hear her.

  The front door clicked and opened slightly. “Spit it out then.” The man spoke through the small gap although he still couldn’t be seen.

  “Look, I think we would both benefit from a quick chat about things. What do you think?” Jenny had now lowered her voice and felt far less vulnerable to any sort of repercussions that could have arisen by her shouting from the rooftops – well almost as high as the rooftop.

  “Go on then…”

  “I mean… well… could we arrange a meeting? Or could you come into the shop to talk to me?” Jenny thought for a moment. “Or could I come in to talk with you, here, now?”

  “Naa…”

  “Sorry?”

  “Said, naa,” repeated the man.

  “Do you mean, no, you don’t wish to talk about our issues?”

  “Naa”

  Jenny sighed, “Sorry, I’m confused. Can we talk or not?”

  “Bout what?” The door opened a little further and Jenny could just make out a beady, dark eye, framed with wrinkles, glaring at her.

  “About the notes that you have been posting.” Jenny held her breath.

  “What about ‘em.”

  “Well this is what I mean – we need to have a chat – please. I don’t want to be upsetting any of the locals and certainly not the residents here, which includes you,” Jenny pleaded.

  “Council can deal with it.”

  “But this is why I’m here. We could sort this out, between us. It doesn’t need to go any further.”

  “Scared you’ll get closed down…” the man sneered.

  “No, I am not scared.”

  “Worried?”

  A sharp, pointy nose protruded from the gap.

  Jenny held her hands out to the sides and shook her head. “No. I’m here to help, not harm.”

  “Don’t want your help.” A little more of the man’s face appeared. “Didn’t ask for it – don’t try and force it.”

  “I’m not trying to force it.” Jenny huffed loudly. “I just want to resolve these problems with you.”

  “Speak to the council.”

  “I don’t need to speak to the council.”

  “Will when I give ‘em the notes.” The man’s creepy face came in to full view. “Taken copies, you know.”

  “Look, you don’t have a leg to stand on…”

  “You what?” The man’s dark, empty eyes glared, frighteningly.

  “You haven’t got a leg to stand on – that’s why I want to resolve it now.”

  “How dare you come round here and insult me. Who do you think you are?”

  The man’s raised voice sent a shiver through Jenny and she felt the prickle of her hair standing on end. She stepped back as he craned his neck round the door. “I have not insulted you in the slightest,” she said, fretfully, as her face began to burn.

  “You said I aint got a leg to stand on.”

  “Well you haven’t… and if I was to be brutally honest, you have already been slandering my name in your notes and… and as for the banging noise… coming from your flat every day…”

  The man flung the door wide open, furiously.

  Jenny froze in fear.

  Adrenalin pricked at her heart and raged through her veins.

  She couldn’t move.

  Their eyes met.

  A terrifyingly forceful pulse stuck in Jenny’s throat and she gulped hard.

  The man’s murderously, savage eyes bore straight through Jenny’s transfixed gaze.

  Fearfully, in an attempt to look away, Jenny lowered her eyes and peered downwards…

  Slowly, she brought both hands up to her mouth, which had just fallen open…

  Sickness rose from the pit of her stomach…

  The man held onto the door with long, spindly fingers. Dressed in a scruffy, un-ironed t-shirt and a pair of dirty, grey shorts, he continued to glare at Jenny’s horrified, pale face.

  Jenny took an involuntary step backwards, still clasping her hands to her mouth. Her eyes remained fixed and watery. Shaking her head, she couldn’t peel her eyes away from the man’s leg…

  … The one that wasn’t there…

  “Oh my God,” Jenny mumbled through her fingers. “Oh God… I’m… I’m so sorry…”

  “Yeah… I ‘aven’t got a leg to stand on, you say. Well, I’ve got one good one, ‘aven’t I?”

  Shaking her head from side to side, Jenny looked up at the man as the realisation of it all, struck her. “I’m truly sorry… really I am.” Her watery eyes turned to single teardrops. “Please, can we talk?”

  “Might as well now. Seen it all, ‘aven’t ya.” The man hopped back towards the wall, inviting her to squeeze past him, into a long, dark corridor.

  Shocked and afraid, Jenny walked through the door, abstractedly. Her senses fractured into a million pieces. The front door slammed shut, leaving her in complete darkness. Her heart pounded furiously. Had this been a wise idea? As Jenny’s eyes adjusted, she noticed a g
limmer of light filtering through, from underneath a door in front of her. “Through… here?” she whispered nervously, as she grappled around for a door handle. Her breathing had quickened and a dry mouth made it harder to speak, harder to gulp, harder to think…

  “Go on…” said the man, right behind her.

  She could feel his rancid breath on her hair and opened the door hurriedly. Bright light glared from the room, causing her to squint. Stepping into the room, she turned to see the man leaning against the wall in the corridor, fitting a prosthetic limb to the top of his left thigh.

  “Sit down,” said the man abruptly. “Go on, then.”

  Jenny turned round and saw a table and three chairs situated by the wide window, which she assumed was right above the shop front. Nervously she walked over to the table and pulled a chair out and sat down. To her right was a doorway to a very small kitchen and on her left a door to another room. Along the corridor there were two other doors, opposite each other. The room she was in smelt fresh and clean, almost flowery, although there were no flowers to be seen. The old, tattered furniture had probably seen the best of its days but it looked clean, all the same. Jenny rubbed her forehead and sighed as the man entered the room, with a limp.

  “Go on then,” the man said.

  “Sorry?”

  “What you got to say?” The man sat at the opposite end of the table and stretched his prosthetic limb out in front of him.

  “I’m sorry… I didn’t know…” Jenny struggled to find the right words. “I didn’t know about your leg when I said… well… when I said what I said.”

  “About me not ’aving a leg to stand on.”

  “Yes, that.”

  The man shrugged his shoulders. “Probably ‘aven’t, ‘ave I?”

  “Look,” Jenny said. “I really don’t want to cause any problems for you. Could we possibly come to some sort of a truce?” Jenny sat with her hands clasped tightly together in her lap. A tightness grasped at her throat and her heartbeat thumped in her chest, furiously.

  “Don’t stress – it’s sorted.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Sorted. Forget it. Don’t want knuckle-sandwiches do we…”

  Jenny frowned and stared at the man. “I’m not really sure what you want from me.”