‘I will, if that’s OK,’ she says, leaning on the trolley. She looks beyond knackered. ‘It’s a real help, you guys letting us borrow this. Every night I think we’ve got enough to last a few days but the pace is completely mental.’

‘Are you always on the overnight shift?’ I scuff at the ground rather than look at her.221

‘Not always. Hopefully soon I’ll have done enough to move to days. Especially now it’s so busy. But yeah, it’s inevitably where everyone starts, usually after an internship or apprenticeship somewhere else. We all have to do our time.’

‘I’ll ring those up for you,’ I say, hurrying alongside her as she starts to walk towards the tills. ‘Is there anything else you need? You can leave these with me if you need to go back for other stuff.’

‘Thanks,’ she says as I slide in behind the cash register. ‘I’ve got to rush back, actually. I shouldn’t even be here, truth be told. I may as well be buried under a mountain of logistics.’

Panic rises in my chest as I start to scan her drinks. I’ve set my clock by her visits this last week. Every night, just gone 2.00 am. She’ll come and I’ll learn something else, something else so terrible that I can spend the whole rest of my night and day crowding my brain with it. What if she stops? Then what? The stuff everyone knows isn’t enough for me. I need the inside track.

‘I can imagine,’ I say, even though I can’t. I slow down, laboriously passing cans across the belt rather than just multiplying the lot, trying to stretch out every moment.

‘You can do it too, you know,’ she says, gazing somewhere into the dark beyond the doors ahead. ‘Anyone can. The trick is to know when to listen and when to ask another question … And to start right at the bottom and work your way up. And above all, to be curious. Always be curious…’

I clank the last of the drinks across the belt. How could I possibly do it too?

‘Everyone has to start somewhere,’ she continues, staring glassily into the night. She’s slowing right down for someone supposed to be in a hurry.

‘That’s a hundred and eleven eighty,’ I say, folding my hands in my lap. Even though it’s only been a week, I’ve got used to the numbers.

‘Sorry,’ she says, digging around in her pocket. ‘I was miles away. I’m so tired I barely know my own name. It’s impossible to sleep during the day with everything changing so fast.’ 222

‘I can imagine,’ I say again. At least this time I can, although the daytime is pretty much the only time I am able to actually sleep.