Read Online The Shoplifting Mothers' Club by Geraldine Fonteroy - Free Book Online Page B

iPhones and iPod too, if you’re doing the laptop. We usually take on the same brand all at once, otherwise the security during the month is stepped up and it is almost impossible to get a hold of the other goods.’
    ‘But how on earth will I manage all that?’ How on earth will I carry the stuff, for a start? Jessica imagined herself running, dropping the laptop, falling over it, and getting caught and convicted and once again, suffering at the hands of an unpleasant, hairy female inmate.
    It was not a pleasant thought.
    ‘Look, Rita is a criminal genius. There’s a thousand quid in it for you, one hundred for her. It’s worth a go.’ Chelsea had a thought. ‘Actually, I’d recommend getting extra, if you can. We always get requests for this stuff.’
    What? More? Jessica had the sneaking suspicion that Chelsea actually wanted her to be nabbed by the cops.
    Sensing the misgivings, the blonde pointed out that they were all in this together. ‘Rita won’t stitch you up, because if she does, she’ll assume you’ll tell on us.’
    ‘If she stitched me up, I would,’ Jessica replied, sounding a little too much like her eight-year-old daughter.
    Chelsea took her shoulder and led her back to the foyer. ‘So, we understand each other. Now, go home, have a rest, and phone Rita tomorrow. I’ll tell her to expect your call.’

    Rita’s round face, seemingly more inflated that usual – a product, Jessica guessed, of a recent Botox injection or ten – crumbled at the list of goods.
    ‘You’re shitting me? Chelsea wants you to do this? Apple laptop, iPods, iPhones . . . they don’t stack this stuff up in goody bags near the front door, you know.’
    ‘Is there anywhere else that does?’
    ‘Yes.’ the American glared. ‘LaLa Land.’
    Lovely. Got it.
    ‘So, whatever you do, it’s going to be risky, as all the stock is kept behind the counter until you pay for it.’
    ‘So you think I shouldn’t do it?’
    ‘I didn’t say that, you just have to think around the problem.’
    Jessica had no idea what she meant.
    Rita explained ‘You’ve got a few options. Essentially, number one is a snatch and run from the sales desk as you are supposedly ‘paying’.’
    ‘And what are the downsides, apart from the obvious one of being caught?’
    ‘You’ll have to outrun the security guard,’ Rita said, with a degree of nonchalance usually displayed by Ronald in the bedroom. ‘Some are unfit, but most could do a decent sprint alongside a professional athlete, so I wouldn’t bet on winning.’
    So, the snatch and run is out then. ‘And, option number two?’
    ‘The sickie.’
    ‘Hah?’
    ‘You get them to bring out all the stuff, start paying, then feel sick. A heart attack would be appropriate, if you are wearing that Lady Muck disguise.’ Rita mimicked the probable conversation: ‘‘ Are you okay, madam?’; ‘Yes, yes, keep packing’; ‘Would you like me to call a doctor or someone in your family?’; ‘No, no. I’ll be okay, I really need the things today’.’
    ‘And then I run?’ That didn’t really make sense.
    ‘No, you ask them to call an ambulance. That’s when you realise you don’t have your credit card on you. But you’re in a hurry. Someone is going overseas. And it’s a big sale, so the shop assistant doesn’t want to lose the commission. You ask them to hold the goods, and say that your friend, spouse, whoever will be back to collect the parcels.’
    ‘Right. And then what?’
    ‘They pack the stuff up, take the security tags off it, put it in a nice bag.’
    Where is this going?
    ‘Then, miraculously, you say you feel better, just need some fresh air and you’ll be back.’
    ‘Yes . . .’ This was the worst plan Jessica had heard since Paul had wanted to build an ant farm in the fish tank.
    ‘And you go outside, and call the electonics store from a payphone and say some kids have just boasted they stole from the store. Hopefully, the security guard goes after them, at