Mum offered Josh five pounds an hour to carry her shopping bags.
Usually he complained after one shop. Today he suggested three more, found her a chair and offered to fetch another size.
At four, she said they should go home.
Josh checked his phone and asked for twenty more minutes….
Helen offered her teenage son five pounds an hour to come shopping.
Josh asked whether waiting outside changing rooms counted.
All of it, she said. But no moaning.
He agreed so quickly that she checked he had heard the amount.
Five pounds. Not fifty.
I heard you.
In the first shop, Josh held her coat, found the right rail and offered a useful opinion.
That blue one suits you better.
Helen stared at him.
You normally say they all look the same.
I’ve grown.
Since breakfast?
People change.
In the next shop, he fetched two sizes without being asked. When the assistant said another branch had the green jacket, Josh found the address.
It’s only ten minutes away.
Helen said they could leave it.
We came all this way, Mum.
At lunch, he chose a café with comfortable chairs. He told her not to rush.
She asked whether he wanted more money.
No. We agreed on a rate.
By half past three, Helen had bought everything on her list.
Josh remembered she had mentioned new shoes.
I’ll get those another day.
We could at least look.
At four, she put down a pair of sandals.
Enough. Let’s go home.
Josh checked his phone.
How about one more shop?
Helen held out her hand.
Show me that.
On the screen was a message from Dad.
STILL 0-0. TWENTY MINUTES LEFT.
Beneath it, Josh had written: RUNNING OUT OF SHOPS.
Helen looked at her smiling son.
Have you been watching the football?
No, Mum. I’ve been working.
For me?
For you as well.
As well?
Josh picked up the bags.
She asked exactly how much his father was paying.
Dad matched your rate. Extra time is double.
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