He whispered in a strangled voice. “Thank you.”“Mother, are you bothering that boy?”He pasted a smile on his face. “She’s not bothering me... ma’am.”The fat woman brushed a gray lock of windswept hair out of her face and smiled. “Thank you, she has Alzheimer’s and will just start babbling on. She took the elderly woman’s arm. “C’mon, we need to get you to the car.”“Have a good day, ma’am.” After they turned away, he wiped his eyes.A hand slipped into his. “Are you ok, Bren?”“Yeah, sometimes, I. We don’t accept cards.”I scrabble around in my pockets, I don’t have enough, expecting to pay by card. “I’ve only got eight quid on me, I’ll need to go to a cash machine.”She looks up to me, tutting, her eyes looking skywards.“Just give me what you’ve got. You can buy me a drink when we go out.”“Go out?”“Yeah I figure you owe me a drink, the work I’ve put into your trousers, and you don’t even have enough to pay me.”She gives me a frosty stare, but thankfully breaks into that lovely giggle. She. More

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