Read Online Moderate Violence by Veronica Bennett - Free Book Online Page B

not quite clichéd enough,” the rejection letter would say.
    Jo was behind the cash desk with Eloise and Sandy, a
weekday part-timer who’d been persuaded to come in that Saturday to help train
Jo and Toby. Sandy was a slight man in his forties with a quick, professional
way of handling the customers. He looked to Jo somehow two-dimensional, as if
his clothes were held on by tabs, like the dressing-dolls she’d played with
when she was little. “Don’t look now,” Sandy muttered to Eloise and Jo, “but a
dodgy gang of three’s just come in. Two girls and a boy.”
    Eloise nodded. “Just before closing’s a favourite
time,” she told Jo sagely. “Could you watch the girls, please, Jo, especially
if they go into the changing rooms? Sandy’ll watch the boy. And don’t let any
of them distract you.”
    Jo wasn’t sure whether to feel embarrassed for Sandy,
Eloise or herself. “Actually,” she said awkwardly, “they’re not shoplifters. They’re
my friends.”
     “Oh, my Lord!” guffawed Sandy self-consciously. “Well,
you’d better go and see to them.” Then he added, with a resigned glance at
Eloise, “I don’t suppose they’ve actually come in to spend any money, have
they?”
    Ha ha. Very hilarious .
    Jo waved to them, but only Holly waved back. Pascale
was examining the price-tags on a rack of skirts, and Ed was standing behind
her with his hands in the front pockets of her jeans. Explicit content and
strong references right enough.
    “So where’s the famous Toby?” asked Holly in an excited
whisper.
    “He works upstairs.”
    “Let’s go up there then.”
    “OK,” said Jo. It was a lot less public upstairs in
Menswear. Even if Gordon had to be a witness to this vomit-inducing behaviour,
at least Sandy, Eloise, the other Saturday girl Tasha and an assortment of
female customers wouldn’t. “Follow me, troops.”
    Some angel was smiling on Jo. The only people in the
Menswear department were Toby, a young guy trying on jackets and an older one
arguing quietly with his wife. “Where’s Gordon?” she asked.
    “Stockroom, I think,” said Toby. When he saw Ed he put
on his customer-approaching face. “Can I help you?”
    Pascale and Holly burst into giggles. Here comes the
predictable bit, thought Jo. “Toby, these are my friends,” she said.
    “I’m Ed,” said Ed.
    Toby had flushed slightly, but he smiled his no-teeth
smile and nodded to Ed, then looked at the girls. “So which one’s which?”
    Pascale and Holly stood there, one each side of Ed,
like bridesmaids posing with the groom. To Jo’s mystification, Holly was still
giggling. It wasn’t like her to giggle. In fact, she despised people who did,
and often said so.
    “I’m Pascale,” said Pascale confidently. “It’s so great
to meet you, Toby!”
    Jo knew what Pascale was going to do next, and she did
it. Before Toby could escape, she grasped his arms just above the elbows and
kissed him firmly on one cheek, then the other, then the first one again. “That’s
the way the French do it!” she said, fixing him with a mocking,
we’re-the-grown-ups-here look.
    “And this is Holly,” said Jo unnecessarily. She just
didn’t want Holly to pipe up, “And I’m…Holly!” like the last girl in a girl
band’s intro.
    Jo could tell Toby thought Holly was beautiful. She was beautiful. She put her arm around Jo
and bestowed her wide, crooked-toothed smile on Toby, whose flush deepened. “You
take care of my friend Jo now, won’t you, Toby?” she said. “I love her!”
    “I love her too!” chipped in Pascale.
    Jo slid a look at Ed, who was fingering the price tag
on a soft leather jacket. She wondered if Pascale and Holly were embarrassing
him. If so, he was hiding it well.
    “We came in just before closing time so that we can all
go out somewhere, if you want,” said Pascale. “Didn’t we, Ed?”
    Ed turned away from the jacket. Six months’ wages
wouldn’t be enough to pay for it. He took his sunglasses from