It was Thursday, two days after the prior meeting and interview.
I wasn't particularly nervous anymore. Instead of being a source of anxiety, I felt that these interviews would become simply a nuisance. In fact, they already were.
The cafe wasn't as busy as last time, but I found him at the same table as last time.
"Alright, let's get this over with then" I said, before even sitting down.
"Hello to you too." He greeted, with an exaggerated joyful tone. "Do you want anything to drink?"
I shook my head, eager to start the interview. The quicker it was over, the more questions I could ask him.
"Well, don't say I didn't ask." He said, whilst fishing out his notebook and pen.
"Ok, first question. Are there certain types of people you target?"
I shrugged, "it varies, tourists are good, and the busy or oblivious."
"How do you tell if they're the oblivious kind?"
"Well generally, if their purse it poking out of their bag, it's a pretty good sign that they're haven't got much up there." I said, tapping my finger on my temple.
"Fair enough." He said with a smirk.
"Are some days of the week better than others?"
His questions were becoming increasingly banal. I thought he was supposed to be a writer; his desperation made sense to me now.
"What kind of question is that? Are you writing a fact file on thieves or something?"
"Just answer the question, please?"
"Do you seriously have any imagination, like, at all?"
Instead of retorting like I expected him too. He just looked at me, his brows furrowed, tapping the end of the pen on the table. I was about to wave a hand in front of his face, when he spoke again.
"Right, change of plan. Come on, we're going out."
"What?"
"Since you're so clearly against answering some questions, I'm just going to have to watch you work."
"Excuse me?"
"Watch you thieve, you know, steal stuff?"
"You can't be serious? That's not going to work."
"Is that so? Well I'll be reducing the amount of money I agreed to give you; how does half of the original amount sound?"
"You can't do that."
The whole reason I agreed to this, was for the sum of money I was going to get out of it.
"Oh I can, Matilda. As far as I'm concerned, I can do whatever I want."
Just when I had some control, he decides to have a little power surge. I didn't fear him as a person anymore, the only thing keeping me from slapping him and storming out, was the power he had to ruin me.
I forced myself to calm down, my pride wasn't my priority right now.
I made sure every syllable hung heavily with bitterness when I spoke next.
"Don't slow me down, Jack"
I stood up to leave, and let him follow behind.
I reluctantly let him walk beside me, as I explained what was going to happen. Thankfully, he put his notebook back in his bag.
"we're going to the underground, it's the best place to go to...observe."
"Well, I knew that already."
I glared at him, to which he held up his hands as an apology.
"Keep your distance as much as possible. Once I'm done, I'll be getting away as fast as I can, so be prepared to keep up."
He nodded in response. We walked the rest in silence, which wasn't necessarily uncomfortable, just odd; I was used to constantly having some sort of quarrel with him.
"Ok, be ready. I'm not sure how soon, or where I'll be able to get something."
I said as we descended the steps down to the underground. He was already walking slower, creating some distance between us. As I scanned my surroundings, I forced myself to forget he was watching; I've never done this before, and I can only imagine he would throw me off.
As I walked with the mass of people, I zeroed in on potential victims, analysing the chances of success on my part.
Business man on his phone; no, pockets too shallow for anything of worth.
Broody teenager with headphones; probably broke.
I let out a frustrated sigh, this was completely hopeless.
I was about to head towards a train for some new game, until I heard my favourite sound. The sound of foreign tourists. Perfect.
A family, that seemed quite disorientated, were huddled around a map of the underground. All that could be heard, was a tangle of phrases of foreign frustration. Each member of the group sported looks of fierce concentration, as they tried to decipher the map.
It was chaos. It was perfection.
I prepared myself for the steal; already, the adrenaline was buzzing, bringing me to life.
I brought my hood up, and pulled it low. And aimed for the open bag of one of the tourists. I brushed past, and snatched the large purse in one smooth swipe of my hand. A grin stretched itself onto my face, as I sped away.
I knew I could do it. I didn't need stupid Harley as a mentor. Maybe this would be enough to prove myself to Zona.
When I headed for the exit, I remembered that I had company with me; so I waited at a cafe kiosk, a smug coffee in hand. Eventually, I saw him approach, slightly red in the cheeks.
"Why do you walk so fast?" He said, in-between large inhales of air.
"I did say to keep up."
"Whatever, let's go. I need to lie down for at least a couple of days."
Before we left, we each bought a new coffee as I flicked through the contents of possibly the largest purse I've ever seen, deciding what to keep and what to throw away.
I was about to trifle out the crumpled receipts, when a strange blubbering cry caught my attention. Not too far away from us, the same foreign family, whose nationality I had yet to figure out, were desperately trying to communicate with one of the underground staff. Although the employee had trouble understanding the hysterical tourist, I knew exactly what the commotion was about.
All at once, the purse burned in my hands. An overwhelming wave of guilt consumed me.
I caused this.
I looked over again, to the two small children, hugging the legs of their father. The mother had stopped her outburst, and turned solemnly to her family.
I looked inside the large purse again, paying more attention the the contents: two passports, four tickets to some kind of show, a decent amount of money, credit cards, ID cards, a hotel key card.
A gold mine for a thief. But for the victim, life shattering.
The knot of guilt inside me kept twisting, and tightening. I couldn't do this. I would never be able to sleep at night. I couldn't help but think:
How many lives have I destroyed?
"I'll be back in a minute, don't go anywhere."
Before he could ask any questions, I was already walking towards the distressed family. When I reached the huddled family, I tapped the shoulder of the woman.
"Excuse me?"
She turned around, a look of confusion on her face.
"Um, you dropped this earlier." I said, with the purse in my hand. "I was going to give it to lost property, but I saw the ID inside and-"
The woman suddenly enveloped me in a hug, cutting off my speech.
"Thank you, very much. You are saviour of our lives." She said, with a very heavy accent. The two children piped in a thanks, before they turned away with beaming faces.
As I headed back to the kiosk, Jack was staring at me with a dumbfounded look.
"I mean, I'm not an expert, but I'm pretty sure that's not how thieving works."
"Stop being annoying." I said, punching him in the arm.
"Ow!" He said, rubbing his arm. "That was unnecessary."
"No. It was very necessary."
*
After we had left the underground, I gave Jack a hasty goodbye, and a promise that I'd meet him at the same cafe when we'd previously agreed. However, I only managed to get to the end of the street, when I heard running steps behind me.
"Matilda, wait."
He said, yet again out of breath.
"What?"
"Do you mind doing an interview back at my place?"
I rolled my eyes, "the whole point of this escapade, was an alternative to an interview. Or do you not have the capacity to remember things, as well as a having a complete lack of imagination?"
"Ha, ha. You're hilarious." He said dryly.
"I was just going to hold up my promise of letting you ask some questions, but since you're so against it..."
"Fine. But I get an extra day off."
He raised his eyebrows, but didn't say anything against my statement. I took that as an 'ok'.
*
About twenty minutes later, I find myself on a sofa, with an almost empty cup of tea. Jack eventually came back with leftover pizza and two beers; he had dramatically insisted, that without food, he would have collapsed.
He asked me if I drank. I didn't. But I took a beer anyway. The cool glass felt out of place it my hand. I curled my fingers around the bottle even more, to familiarise myself. I cracked open the cap, that made a satisfying pop. The fuzzy, honey smell, already escaping the bottle.
"So." He said, grabbing a slice of pizza.
"Fire away, Matilda."
I didn't hold back. No soft, easy questions. Taking the first sip of the foreign liquid, I fired my first question.
"How did you find out where the apartment was?"
"Tracking device."
"What!"
"Which had since been removed!" He hastily blurted, trying to assure me.
Despite his reassurance, I made a mental note, to thoroughly check my pockets. I took another swing, licking the bitter taste off my fizzy lips.
"How did you know that I was lying, with the fake names?"
"Intuition?"
"I find that hard to believe." I scoffed, crossing my arms.
"Fine. I used a lie detector. Although it wasn't very advanced..."
"Bloody hell! Are you some sort of spy or something?"
"No. Despite what you think, I do have something between my ears, Matilda."
I quirked my eyebrow questioningly.
He shrugged his shoulders. "I studied electronics for a while."
"So why are you a writer now?"
"Turns out the scientific path wasn't the right one for me; much to my parents dismay."
"Is that why you have next to no imagination?" I said, with half sincerity.
Jack laughed. "I suppose not paying much attention in English didn't exactly help me. I was always so focused on my maths and sciences."
I brought the rim of the bottle to my mouth again. I wondered what it would be like to go to school. My tutor, Leon taught me all he could, but it was hardly a conventional education.
"Matilda?" Jack waved his hand to get my attention. "Do you want to stop? You seem quite tired."
I had realised that I had become more comfortable around Jack, however it still baffled me how normally he treated me.
When I didn't say anything, his concern grew. "Do you want another beer? You can go home, I can drop you off round the corner if you want."
It became a sudden problem to me. His behaviour now obviously apparent. Who treats a thief, of all people, with such normalcy. This was the question I needed answering.
"Here, I'll give you the money, and you can go."
Money.
Money that I stole.
I'm a bad person, I don't deserve anything good.
My head fizzed with anger, confusion, and alcohol.
I picked up my bottle again, seeking the calming liquid, to cool myself; but to my dismay, there was nothing left. I picked myself up from the floor, though with peculiar difficulty, ready to ask Jack for another bottle.
"Oh, you've run dry. Let me get you another one. Just sit down."
All this out of place niceness. I couldn't handle it anymore.
"STOP IT!" I screamed. The bottle, simultaneously, slipping from my fingers.
It smashed into tiny emerald fragments. And my resolve shattered with it.
Slowly, I slid to the floor again, hands shaking, into the pungent cloud of alcohol.
Predictably, Jack was at my side, saying things. But I wasn't really listening. He put his hand on my shoulder; I immediately flinched, and pushed it off.
"Matilda. Please. Tell me what's wrong." I could tell he wanted to comfort me, but at my previous reaction, he could only awkwardly wave his hands around.
I buried my face in the crook of my arm. Mortally embarrassed at my overreaction.
"Why are you so nice to me Jack." I said, my face still obscured by my arm.
There was a small silence before he spoke.
"What are you talking about?"
"I don't deserve anything. You treat me like I'm your friend."
"I...I thought we were." he sounded wounded, which only angered me more.
"You have every right to treat me like shit. But here you are, offering me a beer, and giving me money."
"Money that I STOLE, Jack." I fired, jabbing a finger at my chest.
The fire left my body, and I slumped further to the ground. Now that the adrenaline had run its course, I became aware of the shards of glass encrusting my shins and palms. I looked at my hands, now painfully glittering green.
But the stars of glass were stained by blood. The bright, blood seeped, and strangled the viridian gems.
I wavered slightly, loosing my stability. All my energy had left me. I felt myself fall, but I didn't hit the floor. I presumed that I had fallen into Jack. The feeling of arms around my torso confirmed my suspicions.
"Oh, Matilda." he sighed, as if in realisation. "You've never drunk before, have you?"
I tried to shake my head, but instead my head just fell to the side. I felt my body lift from the ground, the large arms still wrapped around me. The stir of the beer, hysteria, and drain of energy, soon dizzied me into a swift slumber.