CLEANER: Chapter Four - Part Eight

I joined the main road at the bottom that ran along the river.

It crossed just beyond the outskirts of town – that was the quickest way into Nockton – but there was another route: a smaller bridge down a side lane directly into Barton. I’d never been that way before myself though I'd heard it was possible to work your way through. I'd also heard it was practically impossible to do so. But it was Barton that I wanted to go to this time and I had an urgent imperative to get there quickly before the shops shut.

Shrugging my shoulders, I took the turnoff and went over the single lane bridge.

I didn’t know the names of the different suburbs of Barton, nor did I want to. It was a dismal place with very old and decrepit buildings. The roads weren’t wide and they turned frequently, sometimes so tightly, I wasn’t sure my car would make it without a scratch. After twenty minutes I was wishing I'd driven round but I persevered, especially after I passed an open green with two big blocks of flats. I'd seen them somewhere in the middle of Barton from the top of my garden so I was on the right track.

Eventually I found my way to the open air car park behind Barton’s shopping precinct. I parked up then checked the address of the shop I was after on my phone, brining up a map. I kicked myself that I hadn’t used the sat-nav option to find my way but it was playing up. Although it brought up the map of Barton it couldn’t seem to place my location on it. It didn’t matter.

When I got to the high street I asked someone to point to where I was on the map then started threading my way through. I only thought shallowly about where I was going and why but I was growing increasingly excited. On the other hand I was developing a real headache now and a pinching sensation that felt like stress. I ignored it, walking on.

I didn’t like Barton. The people weren’t my sort at all and it was terribly shabby. I resolved to avoid it in future, but not before I got what I came for.

When I saw the shop I grinned. It was quite a big place but well off the main thoroughfare. It looked like two small units knocked through into one.

Barton Workwear. I hesitated outside, thinking of my brother. My headache went up a notch. I fidgeted, rocking from one foot to the other. Then I pushed open the door and went in.

It was laid out like any clothes shop but on every stand were different clothes for working in. They had items for waiters and waitresses, nurses and doctors. They had overalls and hard hats. They had steel toe-capped boots. I moved between the stands, looking for what I wanted then stopped when I saw it.

There was a whole area for cleaner-related items. It was a wonderland of different possibilities. They even had maid outfits; some of them a little oversexed; but that wasn’t what I was looking for.

I looked at everything, touching the items I was drawn to with eager fingers. They had dresses designed for versatility and to be hardwearing. They had aprons and tabards. It was all so dizzying but the shopkeeper was looking my way. It made me feel uncomfortable; rushed. I didn’t know what to choose and the crushing sense that this was a terrible idea was threatening to close back in.

I got a hold of myself; calmed my breathing; closed my eyes; reminded myself who was in charge. I didn’t have to feel guilty about this. I didn’t have to question myself. I never had to do that. I had the right to do anything I damn well pleased as long as it didn’t hurt anybody, and I wanted to do this. I didn’t know why but I felt desperate to do it.

Opening my eyes, I forced the jitteriness down and behind me. I pointed my thoughts. I gave myself the permission I needed to do this.

This had been the problem all along. I had this crazy desire but every second of the way I was battering against my own reluctance.

Well I was sick of that. I wasn’t going to feel ashamed. Right now this was what I wanted to do. I would be damned if I was going to go on questioning myself. If I wanted to do it all day every day then I bloody would!

The shopkeeper was watching me. When he saw I had noticed he gave me a wise man’s smile, crinkling his eyes into black pits, and he said, “You look like you’ve come to a decision.”

“Too right I have,” I said.