Jaxx winked. ‘That’s where you come in, so I can figure all that out before I invest any more capital. Get my website set up. And I need to read the fine print when I’m making serious deals. I don’t want no one taking advantage because I was too busy developin’ my social game in school to bother with books.’
I dropped the jar into my bag. ‘Have you considered any useful qualifications, like studying business?’
Jaxx shook his head, laughing. ‘Nah. I’m all about business in the real world. Alan Sugar didn’t need no qualifications, did he?’
Jaxx did his best to portray himself as some kind of gangsta-boy. However, piercings, gold chains and an accent couldn’t disguise his white, middle-class upbringing in the posher end of Bigley. His mother, a physiotherapist, had been the one to call me. His father, a senior manager at a computer software company, offered to pay an extortionate amount if I could ‘sort him out’. Both parents referred to him as Jack.
I nodded, pretending to make a note on my pad.
‘Though my old man says he’ll stop paying for my phone unless I do this.’
‘Shall we get started, then?’
‘S’pose.’ Jaxx chewed on a tatty nail and tried to look unbothered.
Less than five minutes into our assessment of his current reading ability, an elderly woman called out from the refreshments table. ‘Help! It won’t stop!’
The cup she’d placed underneath the coffee machine was rapidly overflowing as liquid continued to sputter out. The woman was trying to get another cup to replace it with, but her hands were so twisted with arthritis that she could barely pick up the stack of compostable cardboard cups, let alone tug one free.
In one fluid motion, Jaxx dived across, whipping his cap off and thrusting it under the spout as he yelled, ‘Get back!’ Unfortunately, the woman didn’t get back, so he also knocked into her, sending her stumbling into a bookcase.
An instant later, Irene also rushed over. ‘What are you doing!’ she screeched, yanking Jaxx’s arm and catching him off guard just at the moment he picked up the woman’s full cup.
I watched, horrified, as scalding hot coffee splashed out of the cup and all over Irene, as well as Jaxx’s pristine white trainers and the wooden floor.
I quickly got up to help, but in the three seconds it took me to get there, Jaxx had ducked under the table and turned the machine off at the plug, bringing the spurting to a stop, and was now facing the wrath of Irene, who appeared no less fearsome due to coffee dripping down her neck and soaking into her cream blouse.
‘Ollie, call the police.’
‘I don’t think that will be necessary.’ I crouched down beside the woman, who had landed in a crumpled heap by the bookcase.
‘That thug assaulted us.’ She glared at Jaxx, but her whole body was shaking. ‘If you want to mug someone, do it in the street, not my library!’
‘Er, no. I came to help her with the coffee machine,’ Jaxx replied, frowning.
‘It got stuck, Irene,’ the woman added, her voice trembling. ‘The coffee was spilling everywhere.’
‘Here.’ Jaxx offered Irene a pile of napkins. ‘Did your hand get burnt?’
‘What?’ She ignored the napkins, looking at her hand as though she wasn’t quite sure who it belonged to.
‘Need to get that in cool water,’ Jaxx added. ‘Come on.’
‘I’m sopping wet,’ Irene said, sounding alarmed.
‘It’s fine. We can sort it.’ Jaxx gently took hold of Irene’s elbow with one hand, his other cradling her wrist, and he led her into the back office, where there was a tiny kitchen area. A couple of minutes later he led her back out again, wearing his hoodie and dipping her hand in a jug of water. Settling her down in her chair, he checked the jug was safely positioned on the desk and came back to where I was trying to clean up the mess while still keeping an eye on the woman, who said she was feeling a bit strange and wanted to stay where she was for now.
‘Are you all right?’ Jaxx asked, kneeling down so she could see his face.
‘I’m not sure,’ she replied, face crumpled in confusion.
‘Okay, well, how about we find out?’ He smiled reassuringly. ‘Let’s start with your name.’
‘Dolly. Dolly Carter.’
‘Nice to meet you, Dolly. Is it okay if I call you Dolly?’
She gave a shaky nod.
‘Are you hurt anywhere?’
Dolly’s threadbare eyebrows pulled down as she tried to think.
‘How about your legs and ankles? Hips? Is your back okay?’ Jaxx slowly talked her through it as I continued mopping, transfixed.
‘Well, no worse than usual.’ Dolly managed a tiny smile.
‘What about your head, then? Are you feeling sick at all, or dizzy?’
She managed a full smile, then. ‘Not any more.’
‘Vision okay?’
‘No. But that went to pot in 1979. I’d be very grateful if you could find my glasses.’
‘Here.’ Grinning, Jaxx took them from where they’d been dangling off one ear and repositioned them on her nose.
‘Oh, that’s much better. I think I might be ready to get up now.’
Fifteen minutes later and we were all cleaned up, an Out of Order sign had been stuck to the coffee machine, Irene had decided her hand was fine and Dolly had checked out a stack of gruesome detective stories and insisted she could walk herself home.
‘That was very impressive,’ I said to Jaxx, who had resumed his slouch.
‘Nah. Everyone knows you need to stick a burn in water.’
‘Well, yes. But not everyone can react that quickly and clearly. And I’ve never seen anyone handle Irene so well. She accused you of trying to mug Dolly.’
He twitched one shoulder in a vague shrug.
‘Jaxx, have you ever considered a career helping people? Like, a healthcare assistant on a ward, or working in a care home?’
He pulled a face. ‘Why would I wanna do that when I’ve got a genius business to run?’
‘How about a paramedic?’
He sat back, crossing his arms. ‘I ain’t got time for that. Don’t you need all sorts of qualifications?’
Before I could suggest we took some time in the next session finding out, Irene had strutted over, Jaxx’s hoodie now replaced with a zipped-up cagoule.
‘I shall wash your jacket and return it next week.’
‘No need, you only wore it for a few minutes. My mum’ll sort it.’
Irene bristled. ‘Why would a grown man let his mother do his laundry? Do you enjoy being treated like a child?’
Jaxx pulled his head back in surprise. ‘Well, no, but…’
‘And another thing. You are clearly not a total deadbeat, despite trying to appear otherwise. If you want to be taken seriously, you need to start dressing in a way that demands respect. No one – and I mean no one – not even the type of young woman whose opinion you might care about, and believe it or not I was once young enough to know – wants to see your nipples.’
I choked back a burst of laughter. Underneath his hoodie, Jaxx had been wearing one of those basketball jerseys with no sleeves that was, to my unfashionable eyes, at least three sizes too big. The neckline hung below his breastbone instead of anywhere close to his neck, and every time he moved the whole thing gaped, revealing a pale, skinny chest.
Jaxx crossed his arms, pinning the top in place.