Free Random Acts of Unkindness by Jacqueline Ward Page B

have been an actress.
    ‘Is it that one over there, love?’
    Mike nods and stirs his tea.
    ‘I think so.’ He turns to the driver nearest to him. ‘Is that the kitchen place, mate? We’re from Manchester. Don’t know the area.’
    He turns around and smiles. His colleague also takes an interest.
    ‘Yep. That’s it. Connelly’s Kitchens. Good stuff too. But you usually order online. Not sure they have a shop here. Mainly supply trade, I think.’
    I sigh.
    ‘Wasted journey then. Bloody hell. Might as well finish my tea.’
    Mike goes in for the kill.
    ‘Where you from then? Local or . . .’
    The driver nods.
    ‘Liverpool. Bringing this stuff straight from the dock. I’m freelance, pick up consignments that have been delivered. Easy money.’
    His friend obliges.
    ‘Me too. Thing is, if you work for someone you have a wage. In this game, you can charge what you want as long as you get the stuff to them quick.’
    Mike frowns.
    ‘Right. I might be interested in that myself. Need a license, do you, or what, a special driving permit?’
    The second man leans forward.
    ‘What you doing now, mate?’
    ‘Just been laid off.’ I follow their gaze to our VW Golf. ‘Proper in the shit, I am, debts everywhere. On top of that, our kitchen’s had it. Had to have a damp ceiling ripped out along with all the fittings and we’re managing with a camping stove. Using all our savings on the car and the kitchen.’
    The driver taps his chin.
    ‘I might be able to help you out, pal. I might need some help unloading and loading at the dock. Can you get there early? Start in a couple of days? Temp, like, but it might help?’
    Mike’s nodding enthusiastically. ‘That’d be great. How can I get in touch with you?’
    They both produce business cards. Mike pockets them and we get up.
    ‘I’ll ring you then, tomorrow. That’d be brilliant, mate.’
    I move closer to them.
    ‘I can’t thank you enough. He’s been out of his mind with worry. And boredom. There only so much Jeremy Kyle you can watch.’
    We walk away and get back in the car. Mike’s happy again now.
    ‘Result. I’ll get clearance for that and you can carry on with this obs on your own. OK?’
    I nod.
    ‘Good work. You should get something from that.’
    He’s more serious now.
    ‘Although I don’t think you should do the TV thing now. They’ve just clocked you and they’d recognize you.’
    I sigh.
    ‘Shit. I’ve texted Sal now and he’s probably arranged it. He’ll just have to do it on his own.’
    He shrugs.
    ‘Or you could dye your hair and wear glasses or something. Might help with Hurricane, anyway. If you’re right about the threats, a change of appearance wouldn’t hurt would it, not with you on obs?’
    He drops me off at my car and speeds off into the distance. He’s going back to the station to get the OK on taking the job. I can imagine him, all excited and enthusiastic. That’s what we live for in this job, a productive lead that can get you right into the centre of the action. In this case, not too close, because all Connelly’s cronies know us from last time.
    I tap my fingers on the steering wheel. It would have been much better if Stewart had replaced us all. He’s brought in some new people, mostly the girls who would infiltrate the prostitute ring and some men who would go undercover on the drugs. But we were still here, the old faithful, on the observation jobs. It’s probably just as well really.
    I wonder if Mike’s right and I should be off sick. But if I sign off I’m out of touch with Connelly and I’m still sure that it’s him who’s taken Aiden. I look at Old Mill, a dark monster in the distance, and wonder if Aiden’s in there somewhere, whether they’re keeping him tied up. Is he cold? Has he got enough to eat? Does he miss me?
    It’s happening again. It’s like something is punching through everyday life to remind me that I have serious problems underneath. I wipe my eyes and look in my rearview