“Well, I’ve got a good idea what I want to do next,” saidKay. “But I’m not sure I might not be breaking the rules doing it.”
“It’s not actually physically possible to break any rules,”replied the angel. “There’s no way to cheat the system – say, to smuggle somemoney forward through time, for example.”
“I realise that,” said Kay, “Though what I have in mind doesinvolve money.”
“I can see what you’re thinking and there’s nothing to sayyou can’t do it,” said the angel. “Just keep in mind the physical limitationsof what you are trying to achieve. The golden rules remain set in stone. Youcan’t take anything into the past with you and you can’t bring anything backfrom the past into the present day. If you can figure out a way that worksaround that, then I would say go for it.”
“I will,” replied Kay. She would certainly figure it out.The angel was right. She was still that smart, clever nineteen-year-old inside,despite the wasted years since. It was time to put that intelligence to gooduse.
“Well, you have all day to think about your plans,” said theangel. “Good luck.” The image of Kay’s younger self faded from the mirror, tobe replaced by her present-day reflection once again.
She could spend the day at work thinking about what she wasgoing to do and then run it by Kent in the evening. Despite it being Sunday, itwas no day of rest for her. This was the ninth day of ten in a row that she wasworking, up to and including Christmas Eve. She needed every penny she couldget, especially with the pressure McVie had been putting on her.
She hated the job, but no matter. It was only two more days.Then, hopefully, she would be finished with it forever. She was formulating abig plan to get her out of this mess, and this next trip could be the key thatwould unlock her future.
She had an earlier finish at work with it being a Sunday,the store closing at 4pm. Despite that, it was already dark when she left theshop not long after, and remarkably there was snow beginning to fall. Surelythey couldn’t be in for a white Christmas, could they? She had waited her wholelife to see one. They happened in every Christmas movie or festive TV specialshe had ever seen, but never in real life.
Snow or not, maybe this Christmas really was going to be theone when all her dreams would come true. As she walked up the street, watchingthe light, powdery snowflakes lit up by the glow from the street’s Christmaslights, she began to feel quite festive. Yes, this was going to be a Christmasto remember. Or possibly even two. She had come up with an idea that wouldenable her to uniquely enjoy two Christmas Days this year.
Arriving at the shop, she could see that it hadn’t yetopened for the evening. McVie usually shut it for a few hours in the afternoon,opening again about 5pm for the teatime rush.
When Kay was young, it would have been unheard of for a chipshop to open on a Sunday. Her family, like most others, always sat down to atraditional roast dinner on that day. It seemed that people didn’t bother somuch with that anymore. Most shops and fast-food places were now open sevendays a week. Kay thought that was a shame – she had liked it when Sunday hadbeen special. Now it was just a day like any other.
The lights were on inside the shop, but the door was stilllocked. She let herself in with her key, not happy to see her dreaded landlordbehind the counter after the way he had harassed her the day before. He had hisback to her and was once again berating Anna, the young Polish girl.
She could see that Anna was clearing away some of theuneaten food from the lunchtime session, but McVie was having none of it.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he said, as Annaremoved a crusty, dried-up fish cake from the glass cabinets with a pair oftongs, and turned to put it in the bin.
“These have been here all afternoon,” replied Anna in herperfect English. “The cabinets have been switched off for two hours.”
“I know,” replied McVie. “I switched them off. Do you knowhow much electricity those things burn? Now put that back in there right now.That’s pure profit you’re throwing in the bin there – profit that keeps me inbusiness and you in a job.
Reluctantly, Anna complied, but added, “What about healthand safety?”
“Bollocks to health and safety,” replied McVie. “Cook somefresh ones and hide that one back in among them. Then make sure you give thatone to some old pensioner. If it is dodgy and they end up croaking, no one willget suspicious. It’ll just get blamed on the cold weather. They drop like fliesat this time of year.”
Kay stood watching this exchange, unnoticed by McVie who wasstill facing away from her. She caught Anna’s eye, who gave her a resigned lookas she reluctantly complied. Meanwhile, McVie poked around in the bin.
“What else have you chucked in here?” he asked. Then hepulled out a jumbo sausage.
“What are you doing throwing this away? There’s nothingwrong with this. Two quid, these sell for. You can put that back, too.”
“It’s dirty,” said Anna.
McVie pulled a piece of blue tissue paper from a roll behindthe counter, and turned, wiping down the sausage. “There. It’s as good as new.”
As he spoke, he caught sight of Kay for the first time.
“Here you are, why don’t you sell it to this bitch? Shelikes getting her lips round a big sausage, from what I’ve heard. Tell youwhat, since I know you’re hard up, missy, you can have it for half-price.”
Kay was in no mood to be trifled with.
“Do the food and hygiene people know you sell food out ofthe bin?” she asked.
“Why, are you going to tell them?” said McVie, leaning overthe counter towards her, aggressively. “Take a look at the front door, darling.Five-star hygiene rating, that’s what I’ve got here. Who are they going
