The Shoplifting Mothers' Club Read Free Page A

Jessica with Hobnobs and tea and then gave her the bad news. ‘Too many long-term unemployed out of work, love. Too few local jobs, especially part-time ones. Every mother in the area wants one of those. Like gold dust, they are.’
    ‘But surely there is something? Stacking shelves?’
    ‘You’re joking, right? Loads of mums and dads want those. You can fit stacking shelves in between school and the first job, you see.’
    Who knew? Frowning, Jessica put her elbows on the desk so that she had the woman’s full attention. ‘So what exactly is available? You’ve got loads of little cards in the window, there’s got to be some sort of jobs on offer.’
    ‘Um, let’s see.’ Pressing a button on the keyboard in front of her, the woman scrolled through screen after screen. ‘Here’s one that’s been around for ages. Bouncer at a strip club?’ She looked questioningly at Jessica.
    Did she actually expect an answer?
    ‘No thanks.’
    More scrolling. ‘Door-person for lap dancing venue?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Night watchman for legalized brothel.’
    ‘Is there such a thing?’
    ‘Lorry driver, European.’
    ‘I can’t drive a lorry.’
    Mandy tapped ferociously on her keyboard. ‘A minicab firm is looking for the 02:00 a.m. to 06:00 a.m. shift.’
    ‘Really? That might not be so bad.’
    ‘They do advise you know how to defend yourself from knife attack,’ she cautioned. ‘How would you feel about taking a self-defence course?’
    Knife attacks? What was going on in Surrey when the lights went down? By the sounds of things, it became a pornographic warzone.
    ‘Sorry, I don’t think I could do a job that puts me in danger. I have two children who need me.’
    The advisor rocked in her chair, and pushed the Hobnobs towards Jessica, encouraging her to eat. ‘Look, hon, perhaps you need to somehow work for yourself? Tutoring? Cleaning? That sort of thing?’
    Cleaning? For people such as Chelsea Jordon and the other BIBs? Jessica felt nauseated at the thought.
    ‘I don’t have a recent degree or any teaching qualifications to be a tutor.’
    ‘Then make some flyers on your home computer and try cleaning. Amazing what you can earn by snaring a few good clients. Just be sure to fill in your tax return and declare the earnings. Don’t want to end up doing time, do you?’
    Thanking Mandy for the attempt at help, Jessica picked herself up and headed for the door. A cleaner or working in a brothel – they were some neat options. She wasn’t too proud to do the former if it she could somehow manage to keep the ugly truth from the other mothers and her own children. Poor Rachel would flip if Jessica and Ronald shamed her even more. Sure, it was a good life lesson for children – showing them what it took to keep afloat – but try telling that to an eight year old who was bawling her eyes out.
    Trying to stay positive, Jessica convinced herself that a job would turn up. Unfortunately, not in time to allow Rachel to go to Paris, but she’d just have to understand. She was far luckier than many other kids – the ones who didn’t live in Surrey – so it was time to focus on the good and push the bad to one side.
    They were healthy, and they had each other.
    That should be enough.
    But as she pulled into a petrol station to put a measly two quid into the tank of the Fiat, Jessica knew that she didn’t believe the ‘we’ve got our health’ argument herself.
    So how could she expect two young kids to buy into it?

CHAPTER FOUR

    JESSICA PUT THE IDEA of working out of her mind, but the universe, once again, decided to bite her in the bum. It was just after lunch and the dishwasher had broken down yet again, leaving her to drain the goopy water into a pot and wash all the pots and dishes from last night’s curry by hand. The phone rang and she raced for it, grabbing it just before it switched to answer mode.
    ‘Hello, yes?’
    ‘Jessica Maroni?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘This is Clawden District Hospital. Are you