Chapter 33

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"Okay so your till is number three today." The supermarket manager explains to Jessie while pointing over at the currently empty till. "I think I have told you everything. If you need any help than ask another member of staff or come and find me. Is that alright Jessica?" She asks. Today, Jessie starts her job at the supermarket. She is only working part time but she is very excited to finally being able to earn her own money instead of sponging off Tom. Tom meanwhile is at a meeting with Luke regarding his schedule for the upcoming months. He is much more like himself and less bruised which means he is much more mobile.

"Yes thank you." She beams, "And please call me Jessie, most people do."

"Okay Jessie." She smiles and leads her to her workstation. Jessie takes a seat on the swivel chair and looks at her station around her. She makes a mental note where the shopping bags are before thanking the manager while assuring her that everything will be alright.

It is around half nine on a weekday so there is not many customers at this time which gives Jessie enough time to adjust to her surroundings. She is wearing some smart black trousers, a striped blouse with an apron that has a badge reading her name pinned to it. Her hair is tied back neatly into a ponytail with a couple of hair pins to keep any loose straggles tame like the other female staff working a shift now. Her colleagues, Ian and Duncan are working in the basket only checkout while Jackson and the two Beth's are on the regular checkouts. Any other staff are stacking shelves or are on the special counters. Jessie feels happy here.

She is snapped out of her thoughts when an elderly lady starts to place some items onto the conveyor belt. "Good morning madam." Jessie greets the lady while scanning her first ever item. A bag of apples. "Do you need any bags today?"

"No thank you." She responds while waving a couple of bags for life she had obviously bought previously. Jessie continues to scan the items: some bread, milk, a chicken, and bottle of juice etcetera until there are none left.

"That is a total of fifty three pounds and sixty-seven pence." The lady pulls out her credit card and starts to push her pin into the machine when a receipt starts to be printed. The ripping of the paper against the grated metal is quite a satisfying sound making Jessie's lips turn into an upwards smile. She wraps up the receipt and hands it to the woman. "Have a nice day."

This process happens probably about thirty seven times before she gets a big surprise. "Good afternoon Sir...James?" She questions with her mouth gaping open at the sight in front of her.

"Hey Jessie, how you doing?" James' Scottish lilt being expressed freely like he is taking the opportunity to speak with his home accent. Currently, James is in the deep and darkest depths of filming X-Men Apocalypse in which his character - Charles Xavier - speaks with an English accent.

"James! Wow!" Jessie exclaims, "You are bald!"

"I know..." James sighs and lifts his hand up to examine his shiny head. "It's strange but necessary." Realising that she has been sitting still too long and that the supermarket is becoming busier as it is approaching lunch hour, Jessie starts to scan her friend's items.

"What are you doing here?" She asks ignoring the steady beep from the scanner.

"I remember you telling me about you starting this job today, so I thought-"

"No." Jessie interrupts with a giggle, "I mean here on English soil. I thought you were meant to be in Canada."

"Recording break. I wanted to see my family, so here I am!"

\~.~.~.~.~/

Jessie returns back home in a fatigued state after her first day at work. She stumbles in through the door and walks in a weird way from her tiredness. She spent ten hours working today; being nice to customers with a smile on her face but now all she wants is some good food and her boyfriend's company. She collapses onto the sofa just as Tom exits the bathroom wearing his favourite sky blue shirt tucked into some trousers. "Are you okay J?" He asks and rushes to her side.

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