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‘Oh, yeah I heard about that. He died in the underpass?’
Penn nodded. ‘Jericho was helpful in getting him identified and the man’s family were informed of his passing.’
Penn saw the indecision on her face. ‘I don’t want to harm him.’
‘He’ll probably be over at the Tesco Superstore. It’s where a lot of them go in the morning just to clean up a bit in the toilets.’
‘Okay, thanks.’
‘You sure you don’t want to save him?’ she asked.
‘Absolutely not.’
‘If you hang about for ten minutes, he’ll be here.’
Penn was confused. As far as he knew they didn’t offer breakfast.
‘We get our delivery from the food bank around nine thirty. He helps us unload if he’s around. He gets a bacon sarnie and Kizzy gets a tin of Chappie.’
‘Thanks,’ Penn said, following her inside. It was good to know that both the dog and the man were guaranteed one meal a day.
‘You said when he’s around,’ Penn noted, following her through to the kitchen that although dated with prehistoric appliances, appeared spotlessly clean and functional.
‘He’s not one of our permanents. He appears a couple of times a year around the same time for a few days and then disappears again. Doesn’t give us a minute’s trouble and is always polite and well-mannered.’
So why the hell was he on the streets? Penn wondered.
‘I can see that look on your face. I’ve already warned you. Don’t be trying to save him.’
‘I won’t. I’m just curious.’
‘Well, here he comes now,’ she said as a Luton van pulled up out front.
Jericho walked in with Kizzy walking faithfully beside him.
‘Hey there,’ he said pleasantly.
‘Hi, I just wanted a minute to update you on Dan.’
‘Okay, but you gotta unload at the same time,’ he said, nodding towards the van. The roller door on the back was already being raised. The woman had already fussed the dog and was opening a tin of dog food.
Penn followed Jericho to the back of the truck.
‘That batch there, mate,’ the driver said, pointing to a pile of goods on the left.
Jericho grabbed the first sack of potatoes and made the carrying look effortless. Penn tried to do the same, but Jericho was already behind the counter as Penn made it through the front door. Best save the talking until they were done unloading, he reasoned to himself and made a mental note to rejoin the gym.
Second trip in and Penn could smell the bacon cooking. He’d had breakfast but his stomach still grumbled in appreciation.
Four more trips each and the van had been unburdened of potatoes, fresh veg, countless tins, pasta, rice and bread.
Jericho hit the back of the van to tell the driver it was all done.
Penn followed him back inside.
Two plates of bacon sandwiches were waiting on the counter.
‘You help, you get fed,’ the woman said.
