‘Aren’t you coming back to bed?’
‘Ah! That’s not fair! Don’t tempt me like that. You know I want to. Need to jump in the shower, though. That job interview’s at ten.’
Imogen frowned, twirling her hair in her fingers.
‘I’m all yours this afternoon, babe,’ said Joel.
‘Okay then. Come straight back, yeah?’ Imogen took in her boyfriend’s bare chest. Then her eyes narrowed as she looked at Sinead. She left the open window. Sinead and Joel sat silently. Moments later Imogen returned with a crumpled T-shirt and chucked it down to Joel.
‘Don’t get cold,’ said Imogen.
Joel caught the T-shirt. ‘I won’t.’ He blew a kiss up to Imogen.
Sinead drank her tea, staring off into the middle distance.
4
The break was over; Sinead had spent most of the twenty minutes queuing before finally getting served by a bank teller. The daily cash limit on her debit card from an ATM was £250 and there weren’t enough days in the week to take out the sum she’d promised Elliot for securing the room. £1800 – nearly everything she had in the world, until pay day. So she withdrew it all in one go, fifties and twenties. She placed the stuffed envelope into her inside jacket pocket, zipped it up and left the bank.
Sinead looked up at the grey and overcast sky as she strolled back. The weekend sunshine had been and gone; April had now slipped back into winter. But she wasn’t going to let the weather spoil her mood – things were looking up. She passed the Costa, the Tesco Express and the Pret. Up ahead, near the traffic lights, her colleague Dylan was failing to drum up any business. Sinead watched him half-heartedly approaching people.
‘Hello there, how are you today…? Can I just ask if you’ve ever given some thought to… no, okay. No problem. Have a good day. Hi… can I stop you a minute… No? Right.’ People walked on with barely an acknowledgement. Dylan was standing close to the kerb, like he wanted to throw himself into the oncoming traffic. His back was turned to Sinead as she approached. Sinead prodded a forefinger between his shoulder blades. He spun round; pleased to see her, but obviously a bit embarrassed.
‘Not happening today, Sinead. Might have to jack it in, go back on phones. I dunno.’
He’d been working with her team for a couple of weeks, having said he was bored of being chained to a phone and fancied something different. Call-centre work was less brutal than street fundraising: getting a phone hung up on you was never as harsh as being blanked, sworn at, or even spat at. She felt sorry for him; he was a nice guy, but he didn’t have the killer instinct you needed out on the street.
‘If it’s a new job you’re after, I could make you my official bodyguard.’
‘Nice. Yeah, I could do that.’
Sinead patted her jacket. ‘I’ve just cleaned out my savings account. Eighteen hundred quid, so I could do with someone watching my back.’
‘Eighteen hundred – on these wages?’
‘My mum left it to me.’ Sinead’s hand instinctively reached up to a silver pendant that hung around her neck, her only other heirloom. She stroked the pendant tenderly.
‘Oh… yeah. Sorry.’ Dylan looked at her sympathetically. She’d mentioned her mother’s passing once before. Not intentionally; just because Dylan asked if she’d bought a present for Mother’s Day. She’d almost brushed it off and told a lie, but he was the kind of boy you could be honest with.
‘She wouldn’t mind. I’m putting it to good use. My rent’s covered for two months, along with the safety deposit. Nothing left to hire a van, though.’
‘You’re moving on Saturday, yeah?’
Sinead nodded. She glanced down the street at a group of pedestrians and playfully punched Dylan’s arm. ‘You need another tutorial, dude. What’s the secret of success? Remember?’ She gave him a chance to reply, but he wasn’t quick enough. She continued. ‘Pick the perfect victim. Pensioners are an easy target. But you never get more than a few quid. So stay away from them, unless you get desperate.’
‘I don’t like tapping up the old folks. They remind me of Nan and Granddad.’
‘Ignore those thoughts. Don’t be emotional. They’re just punters. The trick is to get them to feel emotional. You’re looking for the lonely ones who want someone to talk to. Give them a big smile, tell them you like their shoes, ask them where they bought their coat. Be a bit cheeky. Get their defences down. You’ve got to ease your way into the pitch. Trust me, if you do it right, they won’t even realise what’s happening.’
‘You actually enjoy this, don’t you?’
Sinead smirked – yeah, she did enjoy it. Mainly because this was the only thing she’d ever been good at. ‘It’s a game, that’s all. Get their bank details on the form and you’re the winner. Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it. You’ve got some charm. It’s all you need.’ She watched people heading their way.
Dylan shuffled on his feet and cleared his throat. ‘My brother’s got a van… if you need some help with the move, I reckon he’d lend it to me for a couple of hours.’
‘Ah thanks Dylan, that’s sweet of you but… no, I’ll figure something out.’
‘Yeah, you could just nick a shopping trolley from Tesco’s.’
‘That’s not a bad idea.’ She sensed he was embarrassed, trying to make a joke. ‘Honestly, I appreciate the offer but…’
‘Look, I’d have quit this job day one if it weren’t for you. Let me help you out.’
Sinead looked up at him. He was tall and lanky; not bad-looking, but in need of a haircut and some confidence. Why was he being so nice? Maybe he fancied her? No, he was just a genuine, friendly guy. Everyone thought so. And she really did need help with the move.
‘Okay. Yeah – cool. Thanks, dude. You’re a star!’ She gave him a hug. Dylan bent down and patted her on the back. Their embrace was quick and a bit awkward. He was a colleague; technically she was his boss, but it didn’t really feel like it.
Dylan said, ‘Wait, hang on. So now I’m your driver and your bodyguard? How’d that happen?’
Sinead giggled and felt relieved because there was one less thing to organise. But she’d never liked accepting help; it made her feel vulnerable. Her mother had always told her: There’s no such thing as a free lunch, Sinead. She spotted a middle-aged woman ambling towards them. Sinead had already made her target for the day, but Dylan was trailing behind. She could give him one of hers.
‘Watch and learn,’ said Sinead. She moved towards the woman and checked over her shoulder to see that Dylan was paying attention. The woman looked away but Sinead stared straight at her. ‘There’s a little game I like to play. Let me see if I can guess your name.’
The woman flashed a polite smile, but kept walking. Sinead shadowed her along the pavement. ‘I reckon you’re an Angela… Anthea… no? Amy? Wrong letter? Can I have another go? T for Tina? Am I getting close? I am, aren’t I?’
The woman stopped. ‘How did you know that?’ She let out a little embarrassed laugh.
‘Tina? Is that right?’
‘Well, it’s Christina, actually. But some old friends still call me Tina. How did you guess that?’
Sinead touched her on the elbow. ‘Just one of my magic powers, Tina. Your hair looks lovely, by the way. Have you just had it done…?’ The woman laughed and, with mock embarrassment, put a hand up to her perfectly-styled coiffure. Sinead looked over the woman’s shoulder and winked conspiratorially at Dylan.
***