A Deliberate Kindness 1
By blighters rock
- 453 reads
In a little charity shop Gerald is deliberating whether to try on a pair of trousers. He has been waiting a few minutes for a cumbersome woman to leave the dressing room and is thinking to himself;
‘I’m surprised she can fit in there the size of her’ (the woman is smacking the sides of the dressing room and clothes’ hangers are heard dropping to the floor) ‘Oh Christ, she’s broken one’ (clothes hanger is heard breaking).
To release thoughts of her Gerald swipes at a Ruth Rendell at the book section but it’s Wexford.
‘Bloody Wexford.’ Gerald dislikes Wexford.
Judging by the furtive flitting of the dirty cloth that is the dressing room’s curtain Gerald imagines the woman wrestling with the clothes that he decides probably won’t fit and just as he is about to replace the Wexford Rendell a young woman dressed in a loud mismatching of polyester clothing bursts into the shop.
‘Sorry Beryl,’ she says in a whistle through two missing teeth. ‘I only came in to apologise for not coming in today.’
Beryl looks up from the diamante necklace that has been in her hand for the last ten minutes. She can’t decide on a price for it, but from her expression it would appear that she has been worked senseless owing to the young woman’s absence.
‘It’s not like any other charity shops are open six days a week,’ the young woman says. ‘Josie had to stay home because little Tommy’s poorly so I had to cover for her at the café. Anyway it doesn’t look too busy today, what with the rain and all.’
Beryl says nothing. In an attempt to deflect her disgust she draws her attention to Gerald.
‘Are you the man that picked up the trousers from the rack just now?’ she asked.
This time it’s Gerald’s turn to say nothing.
About a year ago Beryl spotted a man pocketing some gloves without paying and to this day she believes that all men are robbers and treats them, in a roundabout way, like scum.
Putting down the diamante necklace she approaches Gerald and says the very same words but with a stifled ‘sorry’ at the beginning.
‘Here they are,’ he says, lifting an elbow, ‘still on my arm awaiting trial.’
‘Are you going to buy them?’ she asks.
‘Do I have to tell you this minute?’
‘Well,’ Beryl huffs, ‘I was only asking.’
‘Once I have tried the things on I will make a decision and I will then happily purchase them or I will not.’
The woman in the dressing room has chosen an item of clothing to steal and has squirreled it away to the bottom of her shoulder bag. After tearing open the curtain and throwing the unwanted clothes onto Beryl’s cashier unit she leaves without a word.
‘Is it okay to try these trousers on?’ asks Gerald, knowing very well that charity shop ladies don’t take kindly to men trying on gear without prior notice, at which time they can cast their eyes at the number of items about his person to make sure they are all in attendance upon his esteemed exit.
‘Just the trousers, is it?’ asks Beryl.
‘Unless there’s something in their pockets, perhaps a handkerchief. Would you like to check?’ said Gerald with such mild sarcasm that it cannot be detected irrefutably.
On entering the dressing room his right foot crushes the broken hanger on the floor and he hears Beryl mutter something to the young woman, who comforts her with the idea of a brew, which Beryl ignores.
With the trousers on Gerald looks at how his belly sits over them, then his eyes fall further down to inspect whether the trousers offer enough legroom to disguise the minute member that resembles a flagging mushroom.
The tiny dressing room’s full length mirror is too close to make a final decision and so, flitting at the curtain, he returns to the shop in search of one that may offer a better perspective.
‘Do you have another mirror?’ he asks Beryl, who is standing to attention at her unit.
‘Just the one in the dressing room,’ she says, ‘sorry.’
‘Or not,’ he mutters, stomping back to disappear behind the curtain.
One of the bonuses of choosing these trousers is that they have not been priced on the ticket, offering him a chance of a real bargain, which is what he came for. Beryl’s embarrassment for failing to price said garment is an added bonus that he also wishes for. Not knowing the price that Beryl may now attach to the trousers is also a mystery he is enjoying.
There was no denying that the trousers were an adequate fit, particularly in alignment with his paunch, and so he changed back into his clothes and decided that he would enquire as to the price.
‘Do you want them?’ Beryl asked as he approached her unit.
‘There doesn’t seem to be a price on them,’ he said quite happily.
‘What? That’s extremely strange. Let me have a look,’ she said, almost dropping the diamante necklace that she had started to take a liking to. ‘Indeed there is no price attached,’ she said, assessing the possibility that he may have somehow attached the priceless tag himself.
‘Trish, what do you think? Three pounds fifty?’ she said up the stairs, waving the trousers.
‘What are they? Oh those. Yeah, three-fifty’s about right,’ answered Trish.
‘Is that okay?’ asked Beryl, her pride damaged with the admission of having omitted the price from the trousers’ tag.
Gerald savoured the moment for a few seconds, pretending to ask nonchalantly.
‘Yes, I suppose that’s alright,’ he said, and paid up in fifty pence pieces before taking out a flimsy shopping bag from his back pocket to save on the cost of a new one.
As he departed without saying farewell, Trish came back downstairs after managing the brew. In the time it took for her to do so Beryl had taken one more look at the diamante necklace and placed it in her bag stowed under the unit.
‘Some people,’ she scowled.
‘Oh I know, drives me mad,’ said Trish, setting down the teas.
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