‘So are you ready to go?’ she asks.
Jackie nods. ‘I should coco. I’m knackered.’
‘Me too. It’s a long night.’ They start to walk towards the dumpsters, bin liners bouncing off their calves. ‘So what plans do you have for the rest of the day?’
‘Sleep as long as I can,’ says Jackie, ‘then Morrisons, I guess. I’ve got nothing in the house.’
‘You’re back home, then?’
Jackie nods. ‘Yes. Went back today.’
‘Oh good,’ says Blessed. ‘I am glad to hear that.’
‘It was getting awkward.’
‘I can imagine. No one likes to outstay their welcome.’
‘I don’t like living by other people’s rules,’ says Jackie. ‘People all over my business, you know?’
Blessed raises an eyebrow. A part of her is glad to remember that Jackie has a hard time being grateful for anything. That it’s not just her own gifts that come up lacking. ‘So you think your… problem has passed?’ she asks, with gentle irony. Amber told her last night about her conversation with Martin Bagshawe and she’s interested to know who will get the credit.
‘Yeah,’ says Jackie. ‘I think he’s got the message. In the end you’ve got to be firm, ain’t you? Stand up for yourself.’
Blessed allows herself a small grin; turns her head away to hide it.
Amber is already waiting in the changing rooms, whirling her keys round her index finger like a child’s toy. She looks tired and grey, her eyes red at the edges, but no one looks their best at this time of day. ‘Ready?’ she asks. Her voice sounds like it’s coming from a distance. Blessed is always intrigued by the way voices sound so different in the early morning, as though their owner’s attachment to life has faded with the smallness of the hour. It’s not long past peak death time in hospitals, she reflects. We’re probably all half out of our bodies, around dawn. The room is full of silent wraiths who were the life and soul of the cafeteria four hours ago. The three women gather their belongings from their lockers and swipe themselves out on to the seafront.
It’s going to be a beautiful day. Jackie looks up at the clear blue sky as they walk past the front of the park, and grins. ‘That’s me down at the beach, then,’ she says. ‘Might as well not go home, really. All I’m going to do is sleep in the sun, anyway.’
‘Seriously?’ asks Amber.
‘Naah,’ says Jackie. ‘Just joking.’
Amber shakes her head. ‘You should know better than to make jokes at this time of day, Jackie.’
Jackie shakes a cigarette out of her jacket pocket and lights it. ‘Yeah,’ she says.
‘How can you smoke?’ asks Blessed. ‘Doesn’t it make you sick?’
‘Well, it might do if I’d just got up,’ replies Jackie, and releases a stream of smoke into the sparkling air. ‘But I suppose, given I’m coming out of work, that this is the equivalent of five in the afternoon for me. What glamours have you got lined up for the day, Blessed?’
‘The usual,’ she replies. She will get Benedick up, check that he’s done his homework, feed him and send him to school. It’s only a year or so since she stopped walking him there, a ritual that caused increasing discord between them as he plunged into adolescence. Then she’ll sleep for a few hours, get up, shower and go to work her afternoon shift at Londis. It’s only a four-hour shift, which allows her to spend the evening with her son before Amber picks her up at quarter-to ten.
Jackie takes another suck on her smoke. ‘I don’t know how you can work all them hours. Don’t you ever have any fun?’
‘The trouble with this country,’ says Blessed, ‘is that no one has any idea of work.’
‘Trouble with the Third World,’ replies Jackie, ‘is that you’re all suckers.’
‘Thank you, Jackie,’ says Blessed. ‘I will try to remember. But there are two of us, and only one is allowed to work. It won’t be so many years until Benedick is a doctor, and then he can support me.’
Amber stops short on the pavement and slaps her forehead. ‘Shit,’ she says.
‘What?’
‘Sorry, Blessed. I forgot. I meant to give it to you at tea break. It’s in my office. I’d forget my head if it weren’t screwed on.’
‘You’re going to have to slow down,’ says Blessed. ‘I’m a few feet behind.’
‘The computer. I managed to get hold of a computer for Ben. Maria Murphy, believe it or not. They’ve bought Jared a Wii and he doesn’t need his old laptop any more.’
Blessed feels herself light up. ‘Really? You did that for me?’
‘I told you I was going to try.’ Amber smiles proudly. She really does look tired, thinks Blessed. Like she hasn’t slept. But praise Jesus, I prayed for a miracle and Amber Gordon has brought it to us.
‘You are an angel,’ she says. Life has rendered her dry-eyed and patient, but she feels the welling of tears in her throat. ‘I swear to God. He will be grateful. I know he will. But no more grateful than I am.’
Amber shakes her head. ‘It’s OK. It’s nothing. Just a couple of phone calls. Look. I’ll go and get it now, and you can give it to him when he gets up.’
She pulls her keys from her pocket, throws them to Jackie. ‘Let yourselves into the car,’ she says. ‘I won’t be a minute.’
They walk on in silence, Blessed rich with her blessings, Jackie full of her deprivation. Amber’s managerial position doesn’t extend to a space in the staff car park, so she always leaves the car at the Koh-Z-Nook, the Anglo-Thai tea rooms on the far side of the pier. They’re only open from breakfast through to six, so there’s always room in there, and it’s safer than leaving it out all night on the club strip. It’s a boring little walk, all concrete and shutters, but once they get past the high locked gates of the pier there’s a lovely view of the sea.
‘That’s nice,’ says Jackie.
‘So nice,’ says Blessed.
‘Why doesn’t anyone ever do anything like that for me?’ Jackie complains. ‘I haven’t got a computer neither.’
Because you wouldn’t know how to use it? thinks Blessed. ‘You could try giving it up to Jesus,’ she suggests.
Jackie snorts like a horse. ‘I’ve been asking Jesus to let me win the lottery for years,’ she says. ‘Maybe I’m just not the sort who gets their prayers answered.’
‘It doesn’t really work like that. You need to ask him for a solution. To help you help yourself. I asked every day, and he has sent me Amber. You never know what form your solution will take, but it is unlikely to come in the form of winning the lottery.’
Jackie shoots her an evil look. Blessed bounces it off. She’s used to the resentment of the unsaved, and nothing can puncture her happiness this morning. The question of the computer has weighed heavily on her shoulders. To be relieved of it is a miracle indeed.
She breathes deep of the morning air and smiles at the sky. This far down, the street is peaceful, the wash of the sea placid on the stones beyond the pier. There’s a nightingale in the botanical gardens; the town is so quiet that its song rings out, clear and true, caressing the back of her neck and stroking her cheeks. She pauses to listen. Jackie takes a couple of paces, then stops impatiently to look at her.
‘What?’
‘Listen,’ says Blessed.
Jackie frowns and cranes. Blessed sees her hear nothing, decide that it’s the quiet she’s meant to be listening for. ‘Yeah,’ she says. ‘Very nice,’ and stomps on.
Blessed hangs back and listens for a moment longer, glad of the chance to do so without interruption. The bird sings with all the joy of summer. Thank you, God, for bringing me to Whitmouth. It wasn’t what I imagined when I started my journey, but I am glad it was here that I came.
She sees Jackie turn the corner into the Koh-Z-Nook’s car park, hears the sound of a scuffle and a bellowed swearword. Gives up on her reverie and shuffles forward as fast as her flipflops will take her.