Free Billy and Girl by Deborah Levy Page B

ecological washing-up liquid. Girl sends him to the diabetic jam section. One last punch of the fucking Open button. Nothing happening. She’s going to have to do a runner, empty-handed. She might as well kill herself there and then. What the hell did Billy do to ooze out all that damn blood? Cut himself with the lickle knife he saves for cinema seats or what?
    How does she kill this new damn bleep siren? Press everything. Press every button in every combination. More staffare running over to where Billy is. Someone has turned the Muzak up. Is Billy alive? Did he slit his throat? A young black man saunters over to the Toiletries aisle carrying a bucket and mop. Jeezus. Hope he doesn’t get Billy blood on his trainers. That would really be a lousy way to end the day. Yes Yes Yes Yes. The till is open. Girl takes a FreezerWorld carrier bag and begins to pack wads of notes into it, fast but calm, looking around but no one’s looking at her. The basket people haven’t even reached Till Five yet.
    Till Five is Terminal South compared to Terminal North. It’s colder in that part of the store. They speak another language there, Trolleyspeak. It’ll take a bit of time adapting to the new culture. Never mind, Basket People. Learn the ways of the Trolley People. Join in their feast days. Get used to their humour. Enjoy their music. Understand their superstitions. Watch out for diarrhoea and dysentery. Comply with Trolley bureaucracy, red tape and visas. Become familiar with tipping procedures, toilets, time zones, opening hours and water. Finally, Basket People, avoid blood transfusions unless absolutely necessary and always wear a condom.
    Saturday Girl is working fast. Go for the fifty-pound notes first, then the twenties, forget the fives, might have time for the tens.
    The PA makes an announcement: ‘Mr Tens. Mr Tens, please come to Till Five. Mr Tens. Mr Tens, please come to Till Five.’ Might have time for the tens. A nice wad of fifties. Thicker than Girl’s thighs. ‘Mr Tens, Mr Tens, please come to Till Five.’ Billy’s voice is drowning under the PA. He’s shouting about how he’s going to sue the store for damaging his hand and he wants to see the manager. He wants to see Mr Tens. Mr Tens is the most wanted man in FreezerWorld. Everyone wants Mr Tens except Girl. She wants the tenners,small potatoes but she wants them after all and she is just about ready to go. Mr Tens is making his way through Aisle Three. Mr Tens.
    FreezerWorld superstar. So much gas in Mr Tens, he’s got a bigger bow tie than the rest of the male staff and he’ got a different pace. Girl presses the Close button. It slides like a perfect cremation.
    Mr Tens looks a bit anxious. What’s wrong, Mr Tens? Will your children inherit a better FreezerWorld than this one?
    Girl slips off the chair and moves over to pick up the pizza. She puts it in her FreezerWorld bag with the cash, walks out of the store into the car park and takes off her overalls.
    Time to smoke a gold band menthol. Smoke and walk. Walk fast, smoke like there’s all the time in the world. Smoke like she’s on vacation wondering which beach taverna to drag herself to next.
    FreezerWorld really is a good world because Girl has just caught sight of a Freephone to order a cab. What perfection. Girl is truly grateful. A cab will arrive in five mins, enough time for another menthol and to comb her hair, which is stuck to her scalp with warm salty nerve sweat.
    Jeeezus!
    Girl doesn’t know what to do. She has just seen Louise.
    On the other side of the car park. The dark side. Louise is not on her own. She’s saying something. Her lips are moving. She’s not fully dressed, or rather, her dress is hitched up to her armpits. ‘I gotta go, Danny, I gotta go.’ Danny’s got his hands everywhere on anything to do with Louise. His jeans are undone, his face buried in Louise, lifting her up, putting her down, lifting her up, her arms wrapped tight round his neck, laughing and