A simple act of kindness

A simple act of kindness.

The checkout operator, an older man well known around the town as a kindly soul, shook his head and grimaced sympathetically.
“Sorry Mrs Randle, it’s declined your card.” He could see the woman was about to lose it. The eldest of her children, Gemma, also saw it and tugged at her arm.
“Shall I put these back mum?” Even at eleven Gemma knew how to be in charge and she scooped a few bits of shopping out of the way with her skinny little arms.
Mum looked over the remainder, unsure how much she needed to reduce the spend by. The cider couldn’t go and she needed the bacon to entice her boyfriend round at the weekend. She saw it as an investment. He had injected her for the first time last weekend and she’d liked it, she wanted more. He could always get drugs but a good bacon butty?
“Yes luv, we can have toast for breakfast can’t we?”
Teagan, the six year old, pursed her lips and, before Gemma could shush her, said.
“We ain’t got no toasty bread mum, just buns.”
Mary balled her fists and hissed through clenched teeth.
“Well I ain’t got no fucking money for anything else. What the fuck do you think I can do about it?”
The children flinched and watched as their mother tried to calm herself.
“Let’s give it a go without these.” The checkout operator said moving more of the shopping to one side.
“Yeah, whatever, do what yuh fucking want.” Mary turned and slapped her youngest on the hand. Conner was five and well used to getting a slap. He cried more for forms sake than because of the abuse. People in the queue began to get agitated.
“We’ll get there in a minute folks. We’ve all been strapped for cash at some time haven’t we.” The checkout man tried to calm the increasingly hostile crowd.
“Didn’t slap me kids though.” Came the anonymous rebuke.
After a moment he nodded at the card machine again.
Mary put her pin code in, and again the card was refused. People in the queue began to shuffle their feet muttering to themselves and each other. A couple near the back stepped across to a newly opened checkout which didn’t make the mood of those still queuing behind Mary Randle and her three kids any better.
“How much is it?” He was an older man, queuing just behind Mary.
To the other shoppers at the checkout it seemed to be a simple act of kindness. The voice was sophisticated, smooth but lacking any definable accent.
Bill, the checkout operator, didn’t recognise him. Mary, quick to see an opportunity sized the stranger up in one well practised and cynical glance. She smiled, making sure to keep her lips together, no point showing these teeth to the world.
She was fat. There’s no other way of telling it. Fat and greasy. Her hair hadn’t been washed with anything other than cheap bars of hand soap in longer than she could remember and the remnants of her last decent hairdo hung lank and unloved about her shoulders. But still, he had spoken to her, maybe he liked them like this?
She turned herself to face him making sure he got a good look at her tits.
“Tenner should cover it mate, got me cash flow in a bit of a tizz, school uniforms, so expensive these days. Ain’t they?”
“Indeed they are madam. You can pay me back when you win the lottery.” The accent had become even more nondescript, vague and somehow just a bit slippery. He smiled and indicated for Megan to put the removed items back on the conveyor belt. He lifted the divider from between the two sets of shopping. His and hers together now. The crowd eased it’s mood a little and Bill, simply happy to have the incident almost resolved, began putting both sets of items through the till.



“It came to well over a hundred quid.”
Bill was sat in an interview room at Lincoln West Parade police station. A young female Detective Inspector was taking his statement.
“Good Bill, anything else you can remember?” The smile was genuine, putting the nervous old man at his ease.
He took a deep breath, the inspector had told him how important even the smallest detail could be and he was determined to remember everything.
“He pulled his wallet out of his left hand back pocket, he was left handed.” He paused and looked to the detective for approval. She nodded, encouraging him to continue.
“Ok Bill, go on please.”
“Yeah, right. He had a wad of cash in it, the wallet I mean, and he just peeled the notes of like they were monopoly money. Couldn’t care less about them.”
“Is that really the impression he gave you. That the money meant nothing to him? Think hard about this Bill.”
“Yeah, couldn’t care less. He was concentrating really hard on Mrs Randle. There was something not quite right about him. He didn’t look at the kids. Not a glance, not one. It was if he knew exactly where they were but he never paid them any attention at all. Scary when you think about it like that. Why did he do that?” Bill was wide eyed and Sarah could see he needed an answer. She looked up and smiled.
“I don’t know Bill but it’s out of the ordinary so it’s important.”
“Did he..., you know, the kids? Before he..?”
“Thanks Bill.” Sarah interrupted him before he could finish the thought. Out loud at least.


“Do ya want a hand to get this shopping in the house?” He already knew the answer. She had been flashing her appallingly enormous breasts at him for the entire drive.
“If ya fancy.” Mary failed to notice his sudden change of accent and conversational style. Her accent was now his, he now reflected her voice back at her to comfort her, to seduce her.
He smiled, she got this one for free but the next one would take something from her, sometime after that one of them would cost her everything.
She smiled back, this time forgetting to hide her teeth. He ignored them and picked up the shopping bags. He had hidden one of his own in amongst hers.
Two hours later he called the children down for tea.
He had prepared a creamy chicken pasta dish with fresh, oven warmed garlic bread.
“Well it’s in the house now” He had said. “I was going to cook this for my tea but I may as well have it here.” Mary had completely missed the fact that he had packed this particular bag, his bag, with enough food to feed her and her family. And it was good. They tucked in and cleared their plates in a matter of minutes. Coke was poured and drunk and cream cakes handed out for afters.
As the evening wore on Mary wondered how she was going to get the old tosser into bed. She figured, quite rightly, that he wouldn’t touch the ‘White Spike’ cider and she had nothing else in the house. She needn’t have worried though. He took charge.
“So, what time do these little angels get bathed and off to bed?” There was just enough innuendo in the question, and just enough of a glance at her tits, to make her tingle.
“We ain’t got no electric left to do baths.” She told him.
“No problem, I probably used it all up cooking tea. Is it a card meter or coins?”
“Card, but...”
“No buts, can Megan nip to the shops and put some money on it for you?” He held out a tenner.
Mary, momentarily bemused by the wad of money he peeled the tenner from, nodded.
“Yeah, no problem. Megan, come here darling.”
He handed Megan the tenner and Mary gave her the card. She interposed herself between the man and her daughter and mouthed the word “Five” at her. Clearly indicating that she should put a fiver on the card and pocket the rest for her mum later.
He peeled of another two tenners. “Get us a bottle of Vodka as well. And some mixers, crisps and nuts and stuff, you known the routine.” Megan looked at her mum.
“She’s a bit young to get that stuff from the corner shop. The police are cracking down a bit at the moment.”
“No sweat.” He said stuffing the money into his trouser pocket. “I’ll get my coat and come with.” He steadfastly refused to make eye contact with Mary denying her the opportunity to challenge.
“Can I leave my car keys here, I’m always worried about losing them in the street.” In effect offering his car as hostage to ensure Megan’s well being.
Mary, torn between the opportunity for some good booze and the well being of her eldest child made a decision.
“You be back in ten minutes Megan or there’ll be fucking trouble. You hear?”
“Yes mum. Don’t panic.”


“Sorry Megan.” He said as they walked up the road to the corner shop.
“Sorry for what...?” She almost said his name and realised she didn’t know it.
He sensed her confusion. Should she ask his name? Had he already told her and she hadn’t been listening? 
“Jim, I’m Jim”
He smiled and was not surprised at the lack of reaction. Children, girls, like these so rarely got a smile that when one came their way they didn’t know what to do with it.
“Sorry for getting you into trouble with your mum. Look, here’s a fiver.” He peeled yet another note from his wad, folded it carefully and handed it to Megan.
“Put a tenner on the card and give her this. You can put the card in the meter can’t you?”
“I’m, I’m not, I’m not sure.” This was a first for her. She had deceived her mother in the past and got away with it on occasion, but this was different, there was nothing in it for her or Jim. The only one who would benefit would be her mum, and she wouldn’t know about it. Was this kindness? She thought to herself.
“Our secret eh? I’ll help you. ” He said as he stroked the side of her face with back of his fingers. She didn’t flinch. Good. He put his hand down so that she could hold it if she wished, but it was a bit too soon for that so he placed it back in his pocket and gave her another, lesser smile.
At the corner shop he bought two bottles of Smirnoff and an assortment of nibbles, sweets and soft drinks. He also bought a bottle of Lambrini. At six percent alcohol Mary wouldn’t notice ten pints of it inside her, but the kids, with a drop of lemonade for the youngest, would love it. It would make them feel so grown up. And make them sleep while he worked on their mother.
Later, in bed when she was plastered, comatose and grateful, he came on her hair and face so she would know the next morning that they had had sex.
Later he needed a piss and rolled over to Mary’s side of the bed before relieving himself. She would think she had done it herself in the morning.

“Mr Adams, thanks for coming in. What can you tell me about the man Megan brought to your shop?”
“Ooh, now you’re  asking. I don’t think I ever got a decent look at him. No, he was a bit slippery like that, spooky really.”
“But he came into your shop half a dozen times? Surely you must have some sort of a description of him. It was summer, did he have any tattoos showing? Did he have his sleeves rolled up? Any scars, a limp, a particular way of speaking? Good teeth?  Broken nose? Anything?”
“Sorry Miss, like I said, it’s like he was there and he wasn’t, if you know what I mean. He was local though, had the accent, just like the girl, just like Megan. Is that any use?”


He was a regular visitor over the next few weeks. Always coming with a present, food or just money. Mary began to see him as a bit of a regular and on one of his visits she warned him that her real boyfriend suspected something.

“Danny Bower. What a pleasure to see you.”
“In here you mean? Fuck you ya bitch. He nearly killed me.”
Sarah sat by the bedside.
“Mind if I sit Danny boy?”
A nurse walked by the private room and popped her head in.
“Just five minutes please. He needs his rest.” Danny had been moved to the private room by the hospital. As the events of the last few weeks had begun to unfold in the local and rapidly thereafter, the  national, newspapers reporters had begun to be a problem.
“Alright Danny. Let’s put the games to one side for the moment. Your right, he very nearly did kill you. Your doctor says you’re only just out of real danger. How do you feel.” It was sincerely meant and surprisingly Danny responded in kind.
“He nearly killed me mate. Really dead. He was a fuckin’ ninja.  I went round to Mary’s...”
“Who told you he was there?”
“Does it matter?”
“It might. It helps with the big picture.”
He thought back to the phone call. No caller ID. Just a whispered voice.
‘Who’s fuckin’ your missus tonight then Danny boy?’
“Anonymous, no idea. Didn’t recognise the voice. He knew me though.”
‘Who the fuck are you ya cunt?’
‘ You must be a right fuckin’ chump. He’s just some old geezer. Sticks it to her every night you’re not around. Making a right cunt of you ya tosser.’
Danny related the conversation that followed. The voice told him of times and dates, the money, the drink, the shopping, the car. Even the day trip to the seaside.
“He’s there now.”
“So what did you do Danny?”
“Well I went round there didn’t I? Got to keep what’s yours. Can’t let a blokes rep get trashed, especially by a fuckin’ pensioner.” Inspector Sarah McGuire shook her head slowly from side to side in response to  the ‘right and proper’ bullshit coming out of his mouth.
“Yes? And please don’t give me any rubbish Danny. I need the facts. We’ve a dead body and a lot of unanswered questions. We need every detail, everything that was said, every move he made. Any injuries you may have caused him. Absolutely anything.”
Danny could see she meant business.
“He just knocked me straight on me arse. Nose bits everywhere. Real fuckin’ neat. He let me get back up. Just stood there smiling. Mary and Megan was watchin’, Megan was shouting ‘kill ‘im, kill ‘im. I think she was shoutin’ to ‘im, not me the little fucking cow. I hope he did ‘er ‘ard, before...”
“You twat, you really are a fucking charmer Danny boy. Hope you enjoy your fucking limp.”
He’d never heard her so vicious.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t mean it, it’s horrible, what he did.”
“Just fucking get on with it Danny.” She struggled to regain her self control.
“He just smashed me all over the place. Kicked me, punched me, stamped on me, and he just kept going. Doin’ it for ages. He enjoyed it. I could see ‘is cock pushin’  ‘is trousers out. Same cock ‘e was puttin’ in my Mary. And the neighbours. They was cheering. I don’t know when he put me outside but I ‘eard them shoutin’ for ‘im to do me. All the way if ya know what I mean.” The Inspector nodded, she knew.
“What next Danny?” Her voice still ice.
“Well next I was in ‘ere. Telling you lot I’d got mugged. No one telt you any different until I saw it on the news. Then I called ya, knew you’d want to know. He did all me joints ya know. Stamped on me ankles, me wrists, me knees, knocked most of me teeth out and what’s left will ‘ave to come out for the surgery. Do I get some compensation for this then?”
“Sorry Danny, you attacked him remember? You’re on your own.”
He thought about this for a moment, then said.
“There’s something else. Something you don’t know.”
“What’s that Danny?”
“Fuck you. Fuck you and your fucking compensation. That’s all you get from me ya bitch.”
The ‘fuck yous’ followed the Inspector and her now unpleasant smile all the way down the private corridor to the exit.

Megan was upset.
Jim knew he would have to take charge before Mary did.
“What’s happened luv, what’s wrong?” He had never seen her this angry. It oozed from her rigid skinny body like a scent.
She stared at the wall for a few moments tears welling. When she spoke it was with vengeance and hatred.
“They shouted at me. Mrs Harrow died. In the classroom. And they shouted at me. And then they chucked me out. I can’t go back, they said I can’t go back.” Even the man they knew as Jim was shocked.
“Shouted at you? What for, what on earth for?” Inadvertently a small remnant of the once decent person he used to be rose to the surface. Genuine concern had put him in control without any subterfuge. Megan stared straight at him.
“She told me once, she itched her legs a lot, like you do sometimes Jim, she told me once she had bad veins. That’s why she itched them with her heel. She did it in class. I’d been naughty just so I could stay behind and chat to her. She never minded. But she itched her leg and it started bleeding. I told her. I pointed at it and told her.  She just said ‘ooh’ and started to shake. There was ever so much blood. I got some paper towels and held them on real tight, like they do on the tele. But it just kept coming out and she started crying. I was shouting for someone to help but no one came. And I started crying and she put her hand on my head and just said, ‘shush dear, it’s all right’ and she kept saying it and I kept shouting and crying. Even when she tried to get up and fell off the chair I held onto her leg and shouted and then someone came. They knocked me over and said ‘why didn’t you get help you stupid girl?’ And Mrs Harrow tried to hold my hand but they pushed me out of the way.” She stopped speaking. Monstrous tears dammed by fear of ridicule.
Jim put his hand on her head and said. ‘Shush Megan, it really will be alright.”  Megan thought ‘he sounds just like Mrs Harrow’, and the dam burst in all its shrieking painful glory.

“It’s a fortnight in Ibiza. Hotel and drinks. And £500 to spend. What the fuck am I gonna do with that? I can’t go. Got the hospital in the middle. What a waste.”
Jim was laughing, poking fun at the supposed irony of his apparent windfall. He had told her he had won a holiday, even showed her a piece of paper identifying his prize. His reputation with the family was still riding high on the fight with Mary’s old boyfriend a couple of weeks earlier and his response to Megan’s distress over the death of her teacher. Mary’s neighbours thought he was the business, Megan and the other two regularly sat on his knee and Mary actually thought she was in love.
“So what are you gonna do with it if you ain’t going?” She asked. She wasn’t so much in love that she couldn’t see an opportunity.
“I don’t know. I suppose I could sell it but the flights Friday morning. Shame you haven’t got a passport.”
“Me, no? I’ve got a passport but I can’t afford to buy the bloody holiday off you. Shame to see it wasted though eh? I could pay you back a bit at a time if you like.”
“Yeah, your right. You could do with a break. But what about the kids?”
“You can look after us.” It was a consensus, Megan, Teagan and Conner desperate for time away from their mum. Time with ‘Uncle Jim’.
Mary looked at Jim.
“Well, I suppose I could, is there any family that could help, someone to look in on me occasionally to make sure I was doing it right? I ain’t been a dad in quite a while.” He knew there wasn’t.
“Oh rubbish, you’re more of a dad to these little fuckers than any of their dad’s are ever gonna be.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll do it. But I’ll make you brush your teeth every night, and get a bath, and go to school.”
“Schools out for a month. Looks like you’re it. Are you okay with that?”
He smiled at Mary.
He was.

When Mary left he said “Who’s for a couple of days at the seaside. I’ve got a caravan.”
The kids ran upstairs to pack their clothes. Jim packed his video camera, laptop and cash bought ‘pay as you go’ internet dongle. Then he phoned a few of his friends.

In Ibiza one of Jim’s associates lost a few hundred quid to Mary in a well staged poker game. He didn’t tell her he knew Jim. He suggested she stay for an extra couple of weeks in his rented villa. Jim won’t mind, she thought to herself with a tingle.

Megan ran. She was desperate. ‘Who do I tell? The school and the police think I killed Mrs Harrow. They won’t believe this. Won’t believe what Jim’s been doing.’
She had a letter from an Aunt in London that she had hidden in her bag. An address. She would help. She sent cards on birthdays and a present, each, at Christmas, she would believe.
She had left Teagan and Conner in Jim’s caravan because she couldn’t carry them. Jim and his friends had been at them all for nearly a month now and neither of them was able to come with her on their own. The caravan site was huge and half empty due to the weather. She had nearly got herself lost, but, after spending the night in a concrete drain she finally made her way to the local station after hearing a train whistling in the distance. She had nicked some money out of Jim’s wallet, maybe enough to get to London.
She knew how to keep herself invisible. It’s a trick kids like her learn real quick. But she wasn’t quite as invisible as she thought.
“Hi Megan.” She almost screamed but he had taken hold of her arm as she looked up to see who had spoken her name. It was a different voice but it was definitely Jim.
“You need to come back with me Megan. Come back without any fuss and I promise Teagan and Conner won’t have any more visitors.”
“Where are you taking me?” Asked Megan.
“Back to the caravan. It’ll be over soon. I’ll make sure your mum never finds out. Make sure you have a few quid put aside that she can’t find.” He paused for a moment to itch his left leg. Megan saw her chance and pulled free from his grasp. She threw herself against a wall that was being repaired and grabbed a broken and jagged half brick from the pile that the workmen had left half under a tarpaulin. Jim leapt after her and seized her by the hair. He quickly changed his grip as he became aware of watchers. Megan twisted again and ran the sharp and broken edge of the brick hard down his left shin. The eruption of blood was immediate. The almost collapse of Jim was as swift.
She looked up the track at the slowly approaching  train and heaved with all her might pushing him into its path.
He screamed as he fell between the train and the platform. He screamed more as he was rolled around and around by the slowing train. He knew he was dead as soon as the train bit into him. Knew he was dead as he felt his body being chopped in half. Knew he was dead as Megan spat in his face.
He smiled, blowing her a dying kiss.
She launched herself at him ripping into his eyes and face with her screams and her tiny, sharp fingers.
After a few moments someone pulled her off.
“Shush dear, it’ll be all right.”