(Finally) CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER THREE

Paula lived a small apartment on the top floor of a large building. Most of her floor space was taken up by a collection of plants , some knee-high clusters of spiked leaves crowding around tall leafy shrubs. Silver pushed her way through the jungle that filled the short hallway, and squeezed into the living room.

More...

“How do you like it?” Paula shouted as she shoved the front door shut, pushing back tendrils of plants that threatened to get caught in its frame.
“It’s – cozy,” Silver said, not managing to get out the obviously expected word lovely. “And colourful.” Cluttered as well, with tall narrow china funnels placed about the room, rising up to meet handfuls of golden spherical objects which dangled from the ceiling. Coins?
“You don’t have to stay here, you know, if you don’t want to,” Paula said, following her into the room.
“Oh, I do,” Silver said hastily. “It’s really quaint.”
“And you’re broke.” Paula gave a sniff.
The more Silver gazed around the room, the more she liked it. Once she got past the clutter, the mullioned windows which looked over the city allowed in plenty of daylight. The indigo walls, mainly obscured from view by shelves of knickknacks and funnels, lent a cheerful aspect, while the cerise ceiling – sort of – worked.
Paula hastily moved some boxes and a pile of clothes to reveal a cerulean settee.
“Your bed.”
“Looks comfy.” The tasselled cushions did look inviting and for a moment Silver, who had risen early that morning, felt tempted to curl up among them, but then she remembered that there were people to save and villains to overcome so she resisted the urge.
A tiny kitchenette led off the sitting room, and Paula slipped behind a counter (festooned with silk ribbons and bunting) and turned on the hob.
“Soup?”
“Yes please,” Silver said, envisioning a rich home made tomato variety accompanied by the freshest of brown bread.
Paula was nosily removing bowls and plates from the cupboard and banging them onto the counter. When lunch arrived, the soup was brown and tasteless, and the bread, light brown and almost fresh. Silver wolfed it down anyway and asked for seconds. Superheroes needed to keep their strength up.
After lunch Paula asked what her plans were for life in the city. “You can stay here as long as you like, of course. But what will you do about money? Will your parents send you some?” “I’ll get a job,” Silver said instantly, shuddering at the thought of asking her old folks to support her. Her savings (plus a contribution from her parents) had been in her purse, but she was confident she could raise money by her own efforts.
“There might be something going in my workplace.” Paula sounded tentative.
“Great. But I thought you were studying aero-nautics, or something.”
Paula started to clear away the dishes. From the sink she said: “Well, I supplement with working in the local supermarket. I heard that they were looking for someone in the backstores.”
Paula’s supermarket - Alf’s All-purpose Store – was a ten minute walk from her apartment. Alf was a tall portly gentleman, with unhealthily high colour in his cheeks. He shook his head when Paula asked for work for her friend.
“I have a job going in the back stores, but it’s no work for a young lady,” he said, shaking his head. “Moving boxes, taking in deliveries. It’s a lad’s job.”
“I’m very strong,” Silver said. “And a hard worker. Please give me a chance.”
“She is.” Paula nodded.
Alf rubbed his chin. “I’ll give you a go then – see what you can come up with for a couple of hours this afternoon. If you’re any good, I’ll give you the position.”
He led Silver into a large store room behind the supermarket. “This is where we store the product before we stack the shelves. The delivery vehicles unload over there – see the big steel door? Now my last lad left a few weeks back and I haven’t had time to scratch my chin, so you can see it has fallen into a bit of a mess.”
Alf understated the case. The store room was lined with metal racking, full of cases of product, but the aisles in between were also filled with pallets stacked with goods, blocking off access to the shelves.
“Staff have to climb over the new deliveries to get at the other stuff,” Alf said. “So they end up using the latest deliveries to stock the shelves.”
Silver could see cases of tinned pineapples next to sachets of washing powder, detergents and cat food beside chocolates and fruit.
“I’ll leave you here til four o’clock. If you can make any sort of impression, you’ve got the job.”
Left alone, Silver studied the clutter of products. It did not take long to convince her that a full reorganisation of the storeroom was required, so she set to work, moving like products together, making sure the stock was placed in correct date order, and that everything was easily accessible to the supermarket staff. Finding a dustpan and brush as well as other cleaning materials, she swept up loose cabbage leaves and armfuls of dust, and gave the racking a quick polish as well. Everything gleamed, and she was quite pleased with the result.
Still, there was over half an hour to kill before Alf returned, so Silver opened the back door and wandered outside. A short lane ran behind the supermarket and led to the main road. Opposite the back of Alf’s was a high wall, slate rooftops appearing above it.
A sob sounded clearly from the other side of the wall, and then a voice said: “Don’t worry, Angela, help is on the way.”
You’re right, thought Silver, hopping up on the wall.
She looked down into a small garden, its perimeter was lined with shrubs but in its centre was a young tree, its slender branches waving gently in the breeze. Below the tree stood a little girl, her tear-stained face staring upwards. High up in the tree a small white kitten clung to a branch, mewing pitifully.
“Don’t worry,” Silver called, jumping over the shrubs and landing on the grass beside the child. “Is that your kitten?”
“Snowy,” the girl said, nodding. “He’s stuck.”
“I’ll get him for you.” Silver swung herself among the branches and picked up the cat, before dropping back to earth and presenting the animal to its delighted owner.
As the little child squeaked in delight and hugged the kitten, a roar sounded and someone raced out of the house waving a rake.
“What do you think you’re doing?” A woman yelled, swiping at Silver.
“Rescuing the kitten,” Silver stammered, easily dodging the blow.
“Who do you think you are? Get out of my garden,” the woman screamed.
A little shocked, Silver backed away into the shrubs. The woman screeched and lunged, so Silver hastily turned and leaped back onto the wall.
“What is wrong with people here?” she said as she dropped back into the lane.
It was not yet time for Alf to check on her work so she wandered into the supermarket. It was busy, long queues waiting at the tills, and the staff looked weary and hassled. Silver had an urge to help, and was about to off her services when a voice behind her spoke.
“What are you doing here? Keep working in the store room.”It was Alf.
“I’m finished,” Silver said, turning around.
Scepticism filled Alf’s face. “Really? Show me.”
Strangely when he saw how tidy and clean the backstore was, Alf did not look pleased.
“I meant you to do this on your own.”
“I did,” Silver assured him.
“Rubbish. It would take you a week to do this.” He moved between the racks and looked at the produce, frowning heavily. Eventually he came back to her and said sternly: “Own up. Who helped you?”
“Nobody.”
“Impossible. But it’s a good job you’ve done – all right, I’ll give you a chance, but no more friends inside my store. Is that a deal?”
“Yes, it is, sir.” Silver held out her hand and shook his vigorously.
Alf looked a little surprised by her firm grip. “Start tomorrow at 7am.”
Silver hurried back to Paula’s place, greatly relieved. What a day she had – robbed, rescued, threatened and employed, all in one day.