For a moment Hugh didn't know which way to turn, and then he peered along the aisle at the number of the checkout desk framed by the shelves. 'It's thirteen.'
'You're not having a laugh, are you? What side?'
'Left. I said.'
Justin unfolded his arms, puffing out a scent of Conqueror deodorant, and stretched his plump fingers towards the emptied shelves. 'And what do you call this?'
Hugh felt as if the aisle had been added to the dark maze that was his brain. 'Left,' he said doggedly.
'Well, it's not. It's right, which is wrong.'
Hugh gazed in dismay at the thousands of cans on the floor and complained 'It depends which way you're facing.'
'You keep your back to the front of the store. You face the back.'
Hugh had the unpleasant impression that Justin's words were turning around and around in his brain. He was close to accusing Justin of wanting to confuse him when the supervisor said 'You tell me what clearing them was going to achieve if you can.'
'I've no idea. You never told me why I was moving the stock.'
'You could have asked, or don't you care enough about your section?'
Hugh remembered Justin giving him the task before hurrying away to chat to a manager. 'You're moving right fourteen to left thirteen and vicey versa,' Justin said. 'See the sense now?'
'I think so.'
'Try being sure. Go and have your break and come back with your ideas sorted. There's enough of this in your family without you.'
'Enough of what?'
'People playing silly buggers with cans.' Justin paused not quite long enough to give Hugh time to respond. 'And you'll need to get a move on with this,' he said. 'We can't have anybody sleeping on the job.'
For some reason this unnerved Hugh. He turned away to hide his aggravated confusion and hurried along the aisle. He'd just realised that his haste was taking him away from the staffroom when his mobile rang. Staff were forbidden to use their phones in the public area and the storeroom – indeed, mobiles weren't supposed to be switched on. Hugh spun around to see that Justin had left the aisle, but which way should he head to elude the supervisor? The ringtone – the theme from
Beyond the car park the sullen brows of the moor were crowned with a puffy strip of white clouds beneath a thinner sky. Hugh quelled the ringtone and read the named number. 'Ellen,' he said.
'Is that Hugh?' Before he could ask who else she expected to encounter on his phone she said 'What have you been saying about me?'
He couldn't help his defensiveness. 'What have you been hearing?'
'I only rang up yesterday to see how people were. I wasn't looking for anyone to bail me out. I said after the funeral I had money in the bank.'
'You thought you'd be able to find another job, though, didn't you?'
'I've got one. Charlotte's getting my book bought and the one I'll write next too.'
'A proper job, I meant.'
'This is a proper job. It's every day. I'm even working now, on Sunday.'
'Well, so am I,' Hugh was provoked to retort. 'Someone has to, and the ones with families like to spend Sundays with them.'
'Oh, are you? I was going to ask if you'd seen Rory lately.'
'Not since we all met.'
'We shouldn't keep losing touch. If you weren't working I'd have liked you to check up on him.'
'Why, what's wrong?'
'Probably nothing. Most likely just me stuck in my caring mode. It was only that he offered me his grant, and when I said he mustn't be so silly he tried to give me half.'
'I'm not sure why that's bad.'
'I expect you're right. He was only being generous even if he doesn't want anyone to think he is. I just wondered –'
Hugh thought he heard his name or one like his beneath the rumble of traffic on the motorway. If he was being paged, the store would have to wait. 'What?' he urged.
'If he'd given me his grant, what was he going to live on? Do you think he's in a bad way somehow?'
'I didn't when I spoke to him. Maybe he knew you'd have to turn him down and so you'd find it harder not to accept half. Or maybe he's got money in the bank like you.'
'I'm sure that's it, one of them. Thanks, Hugh. You've helped,' Ellen said. 'So what did you actually say to him about me?'
'Just what you said about how we should all look out for each other.'
All at once Hugh wondered if she was hoping he'd said more or would now. He could tell her that he cared about her most of anyone he knew. The thought of admitting it kindled his face, but if he ever meant to risk it, shouldn't he try while she couldn't see him? He was struggling to part his nervous lips when Ellen said 'You should have known if I wouldn't take your money I wouldn't take his either.'
Hugh hadn't told his brother about offering a loan. It didn't seem worth establishing the truth now that he'd lost the opportunity to tell her how he felt. 'Is there anything else I can do to help?' he said.
'Not that I can think of. Should you be getting back to work?'
'I've a few minutes yet of my break. It's a pity you aren't closer,' Hugh said before his daring deserted him. 'Rory could have a go at taking your photo. Will Charlotte?'
After quite a silence Ellen said 'Why would anyone want to do that?'
'Why wouldn't they?' Much more loudly Hugh said 'To put on your book.'
'I hadn't thought of that. Some books don't have a picture of the author.'
'Well, yours definitely should. Don't you want people to know you? You want to get all the publicity you can. Make sure people see a lot of you.'
'There's too much of that, I'm afraid.'
She must mean she already felt visible – because of the business with the care home, of course. Hugh closed his eyes to help him dare to murmur 'There's nothing wrong with you, anything but. You're just how you ought to be.'
Perhaps she didn't hear. His eyes jerked open, because he'd begun to feel as if he were dreaming of being watched. 'Were you ready to get back to your writing?' he belatedly wondered. 'You don't need me in the way.'
'Don't underrate yourself, Hugh. We all admire you for doing what you can. I know I do.' Before he could at least return the compliment if not strive to improve on it Ellen said 'Maybe you should have another go at teaching now you're more mature.'
'Once was enough. I'd rather not feel like that ever again, not knowing what I was doing and not wanting anyone to know. I'm best off staying where I know my way around.' To head off any further impractical advice he blurted 'Aren't you going to tell me what your other book's about?'
'Four people spend a night somewhere, I'm not sure where yet, and something magic gets inside them.'
'That sounds like –'
Three words sufficed to let him hear that he was addressing a silence so hollow it seemed to gape beneath him. Had Ellen's phone run out of power, or could she have rung off because she didn't think he was creative enough to help? He pocketed the mobile, having switched it off, and glanced at his watch to see black scraps of digits form themselves into the next minute. He hadn't time for a coffee, and his useless labour was waiting to be reversed. He tramped past the vista of checkouts rendered more identical by dozens of overalls as yellow as a Frugo sign, and succeeded in feeling decisive by the time he reached the empty shelves and the floor piled with stock.
'Back you go,' he muttered as he handed items forwards. At least this restrained his frustration, so that he
