Chapter 1

Brian slid the cardboard tray onto the space he had just cleared, turning the front row of tins so all the labels were to the front. Shelf stacking was not exactly the hardest of jobs he had ever done. See hole, fill hole.

He had a half empty cage next to him for company. The cages were supposed to be left at the end of the aisles, but the aisle was long and he couldn’t be arsed walking up and down every minute or so. He could hear the two Polish women talking in the next aisle. It was all they ever did. Talk. If it had been up to him, he would have sacked them both. Or at least, split them up and pair them with someone less talkative and less idle.

But it wasn’t.

You couldn’t sack people these day for being useless. There had to be a reason and, apparently, incompetence wasn’t a reason. Then there was the ‘due process’. You had to warn them, and then you had to retrain them, then there followed a written warning, then there was arbitration, then another written warning, and then a group hug or something, followed by a final written warning followed by the unicorn that was dismissal.

He looked after two aisles to their one and he was on his own to boot.

Brian reached into the cage for another tray of food tins. Gone were the days of manually writing down what was missing from the shelves and looking for the items in the warehouse. Now, the Lord High computer in a cupboard upstairs, reigned over the tills, logging all that was purchased and sending that data to the all-encompassing warehouse of despair. Where the command was given to load up the steel chariot of replenishment with the necessary items, which would then be sent to the completely wrong store. In Wales. Or Scotland, if it was a bank holiday.

‘Just in time’ replenishment had arrived just in time to be a pig in a poke. Yes, there was no ‘dead stock’ sitting around, being untidy and keeping unsociable hours. Yes, that ‘dead money’ in stock, was being better utilised by some accountant who got off by sticking fifty pound notes up his arse. But it didn’t work when that ‘just in time’ delivery kept to a time zone no one else did. Normally before a bank holiday weekend or when England was given its two days of snow a year. Oh no! It’s going to snow! Quick, let’s all go out en-masse and buy up all the toilet roll. Lord High computer see’s people buying all the toilet roll, orders more to replace and more on top of that, because it’s ‘good seller’.

Two days later, the snow is gone. It’s 15 degrees outside, and the only thing that is artic outside, has just pulled into the loading bay filled to the brim with puppies and Koala bears.

Twenty odd tons of prime arse wipe that will take up all the non-existent storage space out back, because all the customers realise that they no longer have to worry about what to wipe their hairy arses with for the next year, because their spare bedroom is full of it, and the Lord High computer throws it’s ram into a corner in a sulk, because it now has twenty ton of eight ply canine marsupial, but no milk, pasta or even more annoyingly, beer.
“Cages go at the end of the aisles, in the marked bays Brian.”

Brian looked at the cage and then at his supervisor.

“Well blow me! How did that get there?” Which was also the same question he asked himself often about the shift supervisor. Normally with a bit more profanity.

A nervous looking teen was loitering with intent to get underfoot, behind Captain Obvious.

Brian had a bad feeling about this, spurred on by the just out of the packet store branded employee uniform and potential mopiness currently on display.

“Brian, is one of our more experienced colleagues. Brian this is...” Captain Obvious turned round “What was your name again?”

“Claire.”

“Claire. Brian will be your mentor in your initial journey within our family.”

Now that the poor lost soul was closer, Brian realised she was a lot older than he had first thought. Middle to late twenties at least. Not a stunner by any stretch of the imagination, but he wouldn’t kick her out of bed. A little bit gaunt maybe, anorexic.

Shit Brian! You can’t say that these days. Diminutive. Slight of stature. Regardless, he would still happily hammer his cock into her hard enough to make her teeth rattle.

“Right I leave you in good hands, err...”

“Claire.” Brian helpfully supplied.

“Yes, Claire. I have things to attend to back in my office.”

Yes, like finding your other three brain cells.

“Brian will keep you right.”

“It’s easy enough,” Brian started as Numb-nuts turned to head back to his office. “Cages are kept at the end of the aisles, not in the aisles.” Brian wryly said, knowing full well that Numb-nuts was still within hearing range. The girl smiled. Not a complete fuck-wit then. “There’s really not much to it. You see a hole, you fill it. All you have to do, is ensure that the product you are placing, matches the label and barcode on the shelf there. Monkeys could do it, if they weren’t all upstairs in management.” He lifted out a tray of sauces in jars and put them on the shelf where they were supposed to go.

Claire cut and removed the plastic transit wrapping off the next tray at the top of the pile and after a moment of looking to see where it went, slid the crate into the vacant space. The empty cardboard crate from the previous stocking, she added to the pile already in the cage.

“You’re a natural! It took me years to learn that.”

The shy smile reappeared briefly on her lips. Brian left her to it. As much as he wanted to converse, he was old enough to be her father and he didn’t want her making any complaints of impropriety to human resources. It didn’t stop him from checking for a wedding or engagement ring though, neither of which could he see.

With two of them, the cage was quickly emptied. Brian took it through the shop into the back to dump the empty cardboard trays into a baler and to pick up another full cage. Which he left in the aisle close to where they were working.

At break time, he wheeled the almost empty cage to the end of the aisle and led Claire upstairs to the employee cafeteria.

“Do you want a coffee?” He asked pointing to the free drinks dispenser.

“Tea please.”

“Argh! Your one of those wierdos!”

“What’s wrong with tea!”

“What’s right with it!” Brian took in her slim form. “Milk, no sugar, I take it?”

“Please.”

He pushed the requisite buttons and ignored the warning on the screen informing him that the contents may be hot. He carried the two cups to the table she had sat at.

“I take no responsibility for the taste, as I have never seen the tea container refilled since I have been here. It’s probably never been filled since the machine was made. Back in the nineteen fifties.”

She smiled and took a cautious sip. “How long have you been here?”

“About ten years.”

“Almost as long as the hot drinks machine then...”

“Touché.”

Claire took a look around the canteen.

Almost all of the shelf stackers were female and were a mix of economic migrants from Poland and Ukrainian women who had fled the ongoing Russian invasion of their country. All were currently staring at the new employee as though they were hungry wolves and she was a lamb smeared in mint and barbecue sauces.

Claire gave them a nervous glance. “Anyone I should be wary of?”

“You’ve already met the worst.”

“You or the supervisor?”

“Here now! There was no need for that! I am way more dangerous than our supervisor.”

“So how come he put me with you?”

“How good is your Russian?”

“We are not Russian!” Came an angry retort from a nearby table.

Brian held the edge of his hand next to his mouth and overly dramatically whispered. “Don’t mention the war!”

“Is that a reference to something?”

“Fawlty Towers. You know, the TV show.”

The girl shrugged. “Never watched it. It was before my time.”

“Does your TV not show repeats like everyone else’s?”

“Not my thing.”

“Oh no! Don’t tell me you’re a Kardashian?”

“Oh god no!”

“Only way is Essex?”

“Mmm. No comment.”

“There is bleach in aisle fourteen that you can drink to put yourself out of your misery. That’s if that tea doesn’t kill you first.”

“This tea is all right.”

“Argh! I’ve been paired up with a mad Lunatic!”

“I’ll have you know, that my last shrink said I was perfectly normal.”

“Was that before or after you stopped dangling her off the side of a tall building?”

“Before. Obviously.”

Brian looked up at the clock. “Time to head back.”

Brian pulled the cage to a stop. “So where were you before you ruined your life coming here?”

“Pollyanna’s.”

“On the high street?”

“Yes.”

Pollyanna had been a UK wide women’s fashion chain, focusing mostly on those in their teens and early twenties. The chain had collapsed the week previous, sunk by expensive shop rents, rising council rates and a lumbering supply chain that couldn’t keep up with the continual and rapidly changing fashion styles of the modern young woman.

“Couldn’t you have found somewhere a little more challenging than here?”

“My school grades are ... somewhat lacking.”

“You don’t need a degree for shop work.”

Claire shrugged. “I spoke to the other potential candidates of the jobs I applied for, and managed to get as far as the interview stage. Most of those girls had degrees. Most couldn’t get the jobs they were promised their degrees would get them. So they were applying for anything that would pay the bills.”

“Yeah, the economy is a bit fucked at the moment.”

Only part of Brian’s attention was on the road in front him. The rest was on his new colleague. She had turned out to be fine once the initial first day nerves had subsided. She probably saw him as a father figure, but that didn’t stop him fantasising about their relationship taking a more carnal turn.

It had been a few days now and he had noticed that she wasn’t one for starting conversations, though she seemed happy enough to engage in one started by someone else. Brian wondered if he could take their relationship up a notch and how he would go about doing so.

Rain had started to fall outside. He had been watching the sky darken all morning through the wide expanse of open window that made up the front wall of the supermarket.

“Do you want a lift home after work tonight?” Brian asked of Claire.

“That’s kind of you to offer, but no. I’ll be okay.”

“No bother.” Brian left it at that.

Lightning flashed across the sky as they rode the escalator to the mezzanine floor and the staff room. Brian let Claire punch out first then slotted his card into his named pocket on the wall. The roof of the superstore vibrated noisily to the rain hammering down.

They paused at the entrance watching the heavy rain bounce up several inches from the ground. It was like a waterfall was falling onto the store roof it was that loud.

“The offer of a lift is still there.”

Claire looked out. “Yeah, I think I’ve changed my mind.”

“I do believe there’s some arm-bands and swimming goggles in the kids aisle.”

“I thought you were giving me a lift?”

“I am. This is to get to the car. Come on, before it gets worse or Noah’s Ark blocks the roundabout...”

The car heater struggled to keep the widows demisted and traffic was at a crawl as visibility was so poor.

“Just along here, on your left. That door there.” There were no spaces available along the side of the road so Brian double parked. “Thanks for that.”

“No problem. See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.” She opened the passenger door and launched herself out into the rain.

Brian wondered if he should risk asking Claire out for a couple of drinks. Maybe a meal, where they could have a chat. Pubs and clubs were noisy after all. He could ease himself in with asking her about her favourite foods, see if she had a favourite restaurant. Nothing overt, just a friendly evening out, see how things went. There was the cinema, though he had no clue as to what genre she was into. The fairground was here this weekend. No that wouldn’t work, too childish. An offer to do some activity at the weekend? Was she into arts and crafts? Would she be interested in an introduction to pottery, throw or spin or whatever it was you did with some clay on a wheel. Or an introduction to basket weaving?

“Excuse me, do you stock pearl barely?”

Brian slid the tray of tinned tuna onto the shelf and turned to the customer, a little old lady of about eighty years.

“Yes we do! Aisle six. Come with me, I’ll show you.” Brian walked slowly to aisle six. “There you go.” He lifted out a packet and put it in her trolley. “One enough?”

“Could I have another please?”

“Certainly!” He added another. “Anything else I can help you with?”

“No dear. Thank you.”

“Not a problem. Enjoy the rest of your shop.” Brian headed back to his aisle.

“You’re such a smoothie with the older ladies.” Claire teased.

“I prefer them. They have the best biscuits and they can’t run away as fast.”

“That’s nasty.”

“Nasty? You should see some of the ones I caught.”

She gave him a mock horrified look.

“Well, you could take one for the team and go out with me for a drink or two tonight?” Brian tried a cheeky smile and a playful tone that he hoped wasn’t too playful, just in case she was interested.

“Sorry. Too short notice to get a baby sitter.”

It wasn’t an outright ‘no’, and baby sitter? He mulled it over. He wasn’t adverse to kids or single mums. It was just that they had been working together for over a week and this was the first time that she had implied that she had kids. Single mums were busy, didn’t always have time or the energy for nights out, repressed their desire. There might be a chance albeit slim, after all.

“There is a fairground at the park this weekend?” She paused in her shelf replenishment. She was obviously considering it. “They are always better together with others.” He added.

She was still quiet. Was that a hint of indecision on her face?
“No babysitter required...”

: Spillage on aisle nine. Could Janitorial please attend?: Screamed out the tannoy.

“What say you?” He gently pushed.

: Could the owner of car, registration BWC 94F please come to customer services :

“Yes, no? There’s bound to be little old ladies.”

She let at a laugh. “Okay.”

“Nine am okay, or too early?”

“That’s fine. Little old ladies are early risers and do tend to go to bed early.”

“Exactly! I knew you would see my logic.”

Their shift was up and the weekend beckoned.

“Still okay for nine am tomorrow?” Brian asked.

“Yes.”

“Cool. See you then.”

As Brian sat at another set of lights at red, he realised that he had never asked how many kids she had, or their age. He had no car seat. Or booster seat. She hadn’t asked if he had one either. Maybe she had a car seat herself that could be installed. It was a bit late to ask her now.

Brian reached out and flicked through the screen on the dash till he accessed his phones contact list. Radio two stopped playing, replaced by a dial tone. The call connected.

“Hiya Brian.”

“Hi Claire. I’m about five minutes away.”

“Okay. We will meet you outside.”

“Okay.” The call disconnected.

Two figures were stood outside her door. There were no spaces so he had to double park again. Brian was surprised. He was expecting a child of around seven or eight years of age. The girl, boy? He couldn’t quite make out, looked more like a teen.

He recognised Claire. She was dressed in a simple T-shirt and jeans combo. Her normally bound hair had been recently brushed and was unbound. The other was almost her younger twin. She/he had bound their hair in a single ponytail down their back, and was also in jeans and a t-shirt.

Claire climbed in the front.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning” Brian replied.

The back door opened and closed as the other climbed in. Changing the indicator, Brian put the car into motion before the backed up traffic behind became irate.

“Brian, you haven’t met my son Andrew. Andie for short.” Brian looked in the rear mirror. The face that looked back didn’t meet his eyes. Looked twitchy, nervous. A lot like his mother.

“Hi Andie. Nice to meet you.”

“Hi” Even his voice was soft, nervous.

The carpark was mostly empty but was filling up fast. Brian paid their entry fee and there was a nervous silence between them.

“Hmm. What shall we do first?” An icebreaker was needed, otherwise this was going to end disastrously. “How about the Waltzers?” Brian asked

Claire laughed, “I don’t know...”

“Come on. It’ll be fun.”

This early, there was no queue. The ride stopped as they approached and they climbed into one of the half curved seats. Claire sat next to Brian with her son taking up position on her other side.

“I’m not sure about this?” Claire reiterated.

“It’ll be fine!”

A young teen boy came over and locked their handle come restraint into place. Brian caught his eye.

“She doesn’t like Waltzers, so can you go easy on us please...” He asked with a grin. The boy grinned back.

The ride started slowly with their seat slowly turning as the floor moved up and down. There were screams of terrified expectation from some of the other riders, even though the ride hadn’t even started proper yet. The adapted Merry go round quickly reached speed and the boy started the seats spinning.

The lad knew what was required of him and focused more on their seat than the others, giving their seat hard pushes to set it spinning violently. Brian laughed as Andie and Claire screamed loudly, passer-by’s pausing to stop and laugh at their predicament.

The ride came to a slow stop and the boy released their handle and pulled it back to help them stand and to let the next riders on. Brian caught his eye.

“Thanks, good job.” The boy smiled and nodded his head as Andie and Claire, laughing almost hysterically and leaning on each other for support, wobbled and staggered towards the exit, Brian following behind.

They had candy floss and tried their hand at the many skill stands, winning absolutely nothing and laughing riotously at each other’s incompetence in the process.

Then they went round all the rides and had another three goes on the Waltzers. They left mid-afternoon, partly to head off the inevitable log jam at the carpark exit.

“I’ll see you Monday.”

“See you Monday.” Brian replied as they exited his car. He would have liked to have lingered, but the traffic was busy and he was double parked again.

“Thanks for Saturday. We had a good time”

Brian smiled at Claire. “So did I.”

Her hair was back in its ponytail and it looked like there was a hint of make-up.

“We should do it again, the next time it’s in town?” Brian suggested.

“Definitely.” Claire agreed.
“Andie seems a nice boy. Or was he on his best behaviour, on pain of death?”

Claire laughed. “No, he’s quiet. He’s not normally one for crowds...”

“On the drive over, it dawned on me that I hadn’t asked his age. I was panicking that I would need a car seat.”

Claire laughed again. “He’s beyond that now, thankfully.”

“How old is he?”

She definitely paused. Brian wondered if she was going to answer.

“Fourteen.”

Brian did the maths, that would have made her...

“I was thirteen. I can see you doing the math.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to pry.”

Claire waved the comment away. “Do you have kids?”

“Yes. A boy and a girl.”

“How old?”

“In their twenties now. Though I haven’t seen either since they were ten.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Why?”

“Divorce. It was messy. Mostly my fault. The divorce and for it being messy. I was a different person back then. Not proud of the things I did. Things were said that will be difficult to take back. If I ever get the chance.”

“Do you think of them?”

“No. Not really to be honest. If I had a time machine, would I go back and do things differently? Yes without a doubt. If the kids want to reach out, they can. They know where to find me.”

“Your ex. What happened to her?”

“She remarried. Three times I think. I wasn’t really following. She moved with the kids to Australia. Or was it America? There was an A in it somewhere anyway.”

“So, no rebound?”

“No. Like I said, I was an arsehole, plus, the child maintenance was crippling. Three quarters of my salary. The house had been paid for and was in my name, so I took out a mortgage and paid my ex half what the house was worth straight into her account. I knew she, or at least her lawyer, was going to take me for every penny I had. And they did, even with the mortgage payments taken into account.

“I tried appealing the amount, but,” He shrugged “No joy, so I packed in my job and found a job that would just pay the mortgage. She took me back to court, tried to get the other half of the house. Failed, because the courts wouldn’t allow the Child Support Agency to make me homeless.

“I went back to court, stating change of circumstances and inability to pay child support. Courts ruled in my favour and my monthly payments dropped from three thousand to thirty pounds a month. Don’t get me wrong I don’t have a problem with paying child support, but three grand a month was insane. Once they turned eighteen, and the CSA wasn’t going to rape me, I was going to get a better job, but here I am, still here.” Brian collected some empty cardboard trays and tossed them into the cage. “What about you?”

It was Claire’s turn to shrug.

“My parents wanted me to have an abortion. I refused. They tried to get their way through a court order. I ran away and by the time I was found, too much time had passed for a termination and I carried to term. Social services tried to take my child into care. So I ran again.

“I’d learned from my previous mistakes during my last runaway, as to what led me to being found and when they caught up with me the second time, I was over sixteen, so it was harder for them to take Andie. Council budgets also helped dissuade them, as they neither had the money nor a vacancy for secure accommodation in a children’s home. As long as Andie was fed, healthy and not in any danger, or at least, in danger of putting them in the way of bad press, they ignored me.

“All I had to do in turn, was attend regular check-ups with a GP, so Andie’s health could be monitored. I don’t regret keeping Andie, and I definitely don’t regret not handing him over.”

They stocked the shelves in silence for a while.

“What about Andie’s father?”

Claire shrugged again. “He was a year younger than me, so ... Never seen nor heard from him since Andie was born. I feel nothing for his father. We were just bored naive kids in the search for something novel to pass the time.”

“What happened to your schooling?”

“Last time I was in a school or had schooling, I was eight months pregnant. They don’t do school uniforms in maternity sizes. At least, not then.”

“No grades?”

She shook her head. “I ran away with Andie when I should have been sitting my exams.”

“Well, you did a far better job of bringing up a child than I did, and I was double your age.”

“Thanks.”

Brian surfed the Internet on his laptop to see what there was to do in the area for families. There was a fair few things, but they were mostly geared for families with children under ten. Teenagers were a little harder to accommodate for. There was always the cinema. He had a look to see what was showing. He pulled out his phone.

: Fancy going to the pictures Saturday evening? The three of us. :

: To see what? :

: Deadpool and Wolverine? : The reply was worryingly long in its arrival.

: That would be nice. :

: It’s a date then? :

Another long wait.

: Okay :

Over the preceding week, they agreed to include a meal before the showing. Nothing fancy, just a burger in one of the fast food franchises in the cinema complex.

They were waiting for him on the pavement and slipped between the parked cars to quickly enter his. The cinema was part of an out of town shopping complex, ten minutes’ drive away down the ring road. Andie was excited and restless in the back seat, Brian looked to Claire and she smiled happily.

Andie was dressed as he had been the previous Saturday. Claire was wearing a pink flowery halter top that exposed her shoulders and a large proportion of her cleavage. She had swapped out her jeans for a pair of thin black shiny leggings. It was hard for Brian not to keep staring down at her thighs.

In the restaurant, Andie was the most talkative Brian had ever known of him, though he admitted to himself that there wasn’t much previous history to judge Andie by. Claire bought their drinks and some popcorn for the movie and they excitedly joined the throng heading into the cinema at half seven.

The movie was good and judging by the laughs from the other two, they were enjoying it as well. Claire was sitting between Andie and Brian, teasing her son with the popcorn box, repeatedly moving it out of his reach when he went to dip his hand in.

Halfway through the film, her hand found his and her head leaned against his shoulder.

The exit was crowded at the end of the film, as was the foyer of the cinema, as several other screens were disgorging movie goers at the same time. Brian wasn’t sure if it was the chaotic throngs of people that caused her to search out his hand with hers or something else. Her other arm was looped possessively through her sons, holding him close.

As the crowds dispersed, so did her hold on Andie, but she didn’t let go of Brian’s hand and he was happy to continue and enjoy the touch of her skin against his.

Andie was animated all the way home, repeatedly letting both adults know what his favourite scenes had been. Claire smiled often in Brian’s direction.

There was a space fairly near to the door leading to Claire’s flat and Brian pulled into it, leaving the engine running. Andie exited as did Claire. The rear door shut, but Claire paused in the process of shutting hers.

“Do you want to come in for a tea?”

“Do you have coffee?” He asked with a smile as he turned off the engine. He would drink tea if it meant more time with Claire.

“I think I have some. In a jar somewhere. Left over by a previous tenant. It still has the ration stamps on it and everything.” She stuck her tongue out at him.

He laughed as he pulled his ignition key out of the steering column. Andie didn’t seem bothered by Brian joining them in the flat, his constant stream of enthusiasm continuing. Brian wasn’t sure Claire would be thanking him later on in the evening, as she tried to calm him down and get him to bed.

Andie poured himself a glass of juice in the small kitchen as Claire put the kettle on. The three of them chatted animatedly over their preferred drinks and a packet of cheap biscuits.

When Andie’s batteries finally ran out, it was fast and amusing to Brian, as the boy literary ran out of steam midsentence.

“I’m tired. I’m going to bed mum.”

“I’ll see you in the morning love.”

Brian listened to the bedroom door close. “Is he always like that?”

“No. It’s hard to get him out of his shell.”

Given his upbringing, Brian could understand why. “It’s late. I’d better get going myself.”

Brian stood and collected his plate and mug and headed to the kitchen. Claire collected hers and her son’s and followed.

He put the dishes in the sink as she stepped next to him, added her load of dishes to the pile.

She was so close. Should he?

He bent over and kissed her on the lips. She did nothing for a moment, then her mouth opened and her arms came up to hold onto his hips. Brian pulled back, looked into her eyes.

This was her moment to back out. She said nothing her hands did not relinquish their touch. He kissed her again, harder. His hands roamed her back, feeling the outline of her bra through her top. He wanted more. A lot more. His hands moved down, cupped her buttocks squeezed.

A little moan of need escaped her lips.

Like the bra, he could feel the outline of her panties through the thin elastane of her leggings. He broke the kiss moved to her neck, kissed her throat. Her hands were in his hair, holding on. He continued on down, kissed the top of her breasts, but that was not the target he was after. He kneeled down on the cheap kitchen lino. His head staring at her groin. His hands went to her hips, thumbs hooked under the waistband of both leggings and panties.