Jack

A Story by Grey

He flicked the cigarette onto the ground and blew the smoke through his nostrils.

‘Why should I care?’ he asked. ‘What’s it got to do with me?’ She leant on the wall beside him and folded her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling cold. Her elbows peeked through the holes in her jumper, chafed and red.

‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Nothing, I suppose.’

‘I’m not going to give away good money just because they look at me with big sad eyes,’ he muttered. Lorna fiddled with the frayed material around the hole, and said nothing. She didn't like what he'd said. Every now and then she shot a tense glance down the alley. Jack regarded her, rolling another cigarette absently. When she began biting her thumb he looked up at the sky as if to gather strength. ‘For god’s sake,’ he muttered, digging into his jacket pocket. ‘Here. Go and give her this.’ He brought out a five-pound note and passed it to her between fore- and index-finger. Lorna snatched it and ran off, her big boots splashing in the puddles. He hung the cigarette between his lips and drew out his lighter, watching over his hands as she paused by the green bin and knelt down beside the blanketed figure. Brief conversation trickled up to him, followed by an angry, high-pitched shout. He watched Lorna jump back, as if from the reach of a wild animal.

‘I was just trying to help!’ she exclaimed, a little hysterically.

‘You trying to take my shoes again!’ the blanketed figure raged. ‘Well you can’t have them!’ Lorna turned and sprinted back to Jack, tears streaming freely down her cheeks as a string of curses followed her up the alley. She stopped beside him, her jaw tight, and held out the five pounds wordlessly, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

‘She didn’t want it,’ she muttered. Jack took a deep drag on his cigarette and took the money.

‘Hold this,’ he said, and handed her his cigarette, before walking through the door of the co-op they were standing beside. She took a nervous lungful, and tried not to cough. A few minutes later he came out with a heavy plastic bag and went past Lorna towards the old lady, shrugging his shoulders in his heavy jacket against the chill air. He approached her and hunkered down beside her, ignoring her angry muttering. She eyed him darkly.

‘Can’t have my shoes,’ she said.

‘I don’t want your damn shoes,’ he said, drawing the sandwiches he’d bought out of the bag. He opened them and took one, taking a large bite out of it, and held out the other for her. She huddled farther back into her blankets as he reached out, and then slowly re-emerged, taking the food in both hands. She sniffed it.

‘Ham and mustard?’ she asked.

‘I didn’t think you’d be fussy enough to be vegetarian.’ She took a bite, sinking back against the wall as she chewed. ‘Finish mine off for me, would you?’ he said, putting his half-eaten sandwich back in the packet. ‘I’m full.’ She watched him through dewy eyes as he stood, his knees popping. He gestured in the vague direction of the bag. ‘Take what you want from the rest.’ She said nothing, but chewed slowly, mustard gathering at the corners of her mouth, humming softly.

He left her there, returning to Lorna at the bus stop. He took the cigarette from her and tapped the pillar of ash onto the pavement.

‘Why’d you do that?’ Lorna asked. ‘I thought it had nothing to do with you.’ He shrugged.

‘I guess I made it to do with me,’ he said. He dropped the cigarette and stamped on it as the bus pulled up. He climbed on without another word, and Lorna, glancing back briefly, hopped on after him.