8. Jackson
8
JACKSON
‘ P lease!’ My chest tightened as I leant forward across the desk. ‘If you could just give me more time, I promise I’ll get the money.’
I was at the office in Mum’s residential care home, pleading with Hilda, the manager, not to kick my mother out because I hadn’t paid the last few invoices in full.
‘I’m sorry, Mr Campbell,’ she said firmly. ‘Like I told you last month, we can’t keep allowing your payments to be incomplete and late.’
‘Did you get the money I transferred last week?’
I’d done another balance transfer of a thousand pounds on my credit card, which was now maxed out, and I’d hoped that’d be enough to keep them off my back. But from the look on Hilda’s face, it wasn’t.
‘We did, and whilst I appreciate your efforts, it’s not acceptable. We have overheads, Mr Campbell. We have to pay the carers who diligently look after your mother. If we allowed everyone to pay late, we’d be plunged into chaos. The rules are the rules. If you’re not able to pay the fees, perhaps you’ll need to consider moving your mother elsewhere or attempting to care for her at home again.’
‘No!’ I protested.
I’d tried that. For months I was adamant that I wouldn’t put Mum in a home. I’d had to quit my job before she was diagnosed, and I was too messed up to look for a new one, so time wasn’t an issue. I’d vowed to look after her myself. Just like she’d taken care of me for years.
The doctors had warned me it’d be difficult. Particularly as her memory seemed to be fading fast as was common with Alzheimer’s. They said she’d probably had the symptoms for a while, but because I’d been so wrapped up in my work and didn’t visit as often as I should’ve, I hadn’t seen the signs.
But as soon as I knew how serious things were, I vowed I wouldn’t let her down. I was determined to be the most devoted full-time carer that there was.
But then it became obvious that I’d bitten off more than I could chew.
The first sign was when Mum left the house whilst I was in the shower. It wasn’t that she’d left the front door wide open that worried me. It was the fact that when I rushed out onto the streets, desperate to find her, Mum was seconds away from stepping out onto a busy road, oblivious to the cars speeding towards her. I knew that was a red flag, but reasoned that as long as I kept the front door locked, she’d be fine.
But one day I’d popped to the corner shop to get some bread and milk and when I came back, I was hit with the strong smell of gas. I found Mum staring out the kitchen window and it was obvious that she’d forgotten she’d turned the old stove on.
That was when I really started to worry.
I realised that the house wasn’t safe for her to stay in. She was a danger to herself, and as much as I’d wanted to, I didn’t have the skills to take care of her.
At that point, even though the cost of residential care was high, I had savings, so I thought that would be enough to cover it until I’d found something else or sold the house.
I was wrong.
‘I’m sorry, Mr Jackson. Wickstead Residential is one of the most prestigious care homes in the South-East. We have a long waiting list of individuals eager to join us, and like any business, we have overheads to cover to enable us to maintain our high standards. Per the contract, if you don’t bring your account up to date within twenty-eight days, we’ll have no other option than to start eviction proceedings. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have another meeting to get to.’
‘Can I at least see her before I go?’
‘She’s sleeping. As you know, visiting hours ended forty minutes ago.’
‘I know, but I was working! Trying to earn the money to pay your fees.’
‘I’m sorry, Mr Campbell. Like I said, the rules are the rules. We can’t disrupt your mother’s routine.’
I blew out a frustrated breath, admitting defeat. Hilda wasn’t going to change her mind. The bottom line was, if I didn’t get the money together in the next four weeks, Mum would be kicked out.
As I trudged down the corridor, the heavy disinfectant scent flooded my nostrils .
My head hurt. What the hell was I going to do? I had the job at the library, which was great. That income would definitely help, but it wasn’t enough.
I stepped out into the cool air, then pulled out my phone. Marcus answered on the third ring.
‘Hey! How was your first day at the library?’
I’d texted Marcus at lunchtime to let him know I’d got the job. He’d replied with a simple I told you so.
‘Good.’
‘Did you get to see the hot librarian?’
Jane.
I’d been so focused on racing here to the meeting that Hilda had called unexpectedly that I hadn’t had a chance to think about anything else. But as soon as I pictured Jane’s face, my shoulders instantly loosened.
Once she’d got over her initial shock about me working at the library, Jane had been sweet. Just like she always was.
It was kind of her to give me the muffin she’d brought because she’d worried that I hadn’t eaten enough for breakfast.
And she’d patiently shown me around the library, answering my millions of questions and not laughing about how little I knew about romance novels compared to her. The brainstorming was fun too and it reminded me how smart Jane was.
Sounded stupid, but I’d been disappointed when Jess had called me away. But I had important work to do at the library. Based on the meetings I’d had with both Jess and Theo, the library was in trouble. They were relying on me to turn things around financially, pretty quickly .
And they weren’t the only ones. If I didn’t get some money coming in soon, Mum would have to come back home. And there was no way I’d be able to take care of her and work. The carers’ allowance wouldn’t be enough to live on. Not with the bill repayments I had to make after maxing out my credit cards to pay towards the care home fees.
Whichever way you looked at it, I was fucked.
‘Jane was there, yeah,’ I finally answered, snapping myself out of my thoughts.
‘So were you able to concentrate on work or were you trying not to imagine taking her up against a bookcase?’ He laughed.
‘Do you ever think about anything else but sex?’ I snapped defensively to hide my shame, because when Jane had given me a tour of the library and my gaze had dropped to how good her arse looked in that fitted pencil skirt, I had fantasised about pushing it up around her waist, dropping to my knees and burying my head between her thighs.
I wasn’t proud of that thought. And I’d pushed it out of my mind seconds after it’d appeared. She was my colleague and I’d promised myself I wasn’t going there again.
Plus Jane was a sweet woman. Like her dickhead older brother, Wayne, liked to remind me at school, girls like her weren’t for boys like me.
Jane had probably settled down with a nice guy, with a stable job. That was what she deserved.
When I’d looked at her hand, I hadn’t seen any sign of an engagement or wedding ring. I’d wanted to ask if she had a boyfriend, but it was inappropriate and it was also irrelevant. It didn’t matter either way. I wasn’t interested in a relationship or hooking up.
I hardly ever thought about sex these days. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d wanked. Which was probably why I’d had those inappropriate thoughts about fucking Jane earlier. I just needed to release, that was all. Once I got myself off, I’d be fine.
‘Occasionally,’ Marcus replied. ‘But when my best mate tells me he’s got a job at the same place that his childhood crush is working at and that she’s blossomed into a hot librarian, naturally I’m here with my popcorn, waiting for the inevitable show to happen!’
‘She’s not my crush.’
‘Just because I didn’t go to Northwood like you and Jane doesn’t mean I didn’t know you had a crush on her. Whenever we used to speak it was always Jane this and Jane that. ’
‘We were in the same classes together, so of course I’d mention her!’ I protested.
Marcus and I had gone to school together in London until I was thirteen. Up until then I’d had the perfect life. I’d lived in a comfortable three-bed house, in a nice area, with two great parents who were madly in love.
But when Dad died unexpectedly from a heart condition we didn’t even know he had, our whole world was shattered overnight.
We survived on his savings for a while, but when the money ran out, Mum was left shouldering the burden of paying for the huge mortgage single-handedly.
In the end she couldn’t manage all of the expenses on her salary. So we had to sell the house and move out of London. A small two-bedroom house in Shamwick was all she could afford. That was how I ended up going to Northwood.
I went from being in a London school where I was accepted and had great friends like Marcus to being the only black kid in the school and being subjected to racist slurs.
Mum said to ignore them, keep my head up, work hard and make Dad proud, so that was what I tried to do.
It was hard, though. School was tough for most teenagers, but when you added in the fact that I’d lost my dad so young, so was grieving, had to listen to Mum crying herself to sleep every night, and had been ripped away from the home, school and friends I loved, all whilst dealing with puberty, bullying and the pressure of exams, it was almost unbearable at times.
I missed not having Marcus to hang out with. Everyone else was already settled in their own friendship groups. No one wanted to invite the nerd with the shitty second-hand school uniform and broken glasses into their little cliques.
Jane was different, though. She wasn’t part of any of the cool groups either. She didn’t fit in. A lot of the girls wanted to attract the boys’ attention, but like me, Jane was a boffin. She was more interested in learning than her appearance. So when no one wanted to sit next to us in class, we paired up and found the solidarity we’d been missing.
‘Yeah, yeah, whatever. I saw how your face lit up when you spoke about her the other night.’
Shit. I was hoping he hadn’t noticed.
‘She gave me a tour of the library and helped show me the ropes, y’know, as part of her job. That’s it. You of all people should understand why I have no interest in getting involved with someone from work again. If I hadn’t done that the first time, I wouldn’t be in this mess now.’
The phone went silent. I knew I’d struck a nerve.
‘Shit, sorry, man. I didn’t mean to… I shouldn’t have said that. But Jane isn’t like… never mind. Anyway, did it go well? At the library?’
‘Yeah. I like it there,’ I said as I made my way to the station to catch the train home. ‘I’m screwed, though. I’ve just left the care home?—’
‘How’s your mum?’
‘I didn’t get to see her. I got there too late. But Hilda called me in for an emergency meeting. Said that if I don’t bring my payments up to date, she’ll kick Mum out.’
‘Fuck,’ Marcus gasped. ‘Listen, I can help you out if you?—’
‘No,’ I jumped in. Marcus had already helped me out a few months ago. I couldn’t keep running to him for loans. He had his own bills to pay. ‘I need to figure this out for myself. I’ve maxed out my credit cards, sold my watches, jewellery and most of my clothes and the bank won’t give me another loan. This idea you mentioned, the other night.’ I paused and took a deep breath. I couldn’t believe I was about to say this. ‘Do you really think posting videos on that website would work?’
‘Definitely!’
‘And would I get paid quickly?’
‘Yep! That’s one of the great things about this site. You get paid weekly.’
‘And I wouldn’t have to show my face?’
‘Nope. Just dance for a few minutes. I’ll help you set it up. Just give me the green light and I’ll start putting the wheels in motion. ’
I blew out a breath.
I couldn’t believe I was about to agree to cavorting half naked and posting videos online for strangers to leer at. But I was desperate. And desperate times called for desperate measures.
‘Okay.’ My chest tightened as I prepared myself to force the words out. ‘I’m in.’