The Way Out by Vicki Jarrett Page B

track of whatever happened to her girl. Hoping everything worked out for her, hoping she had a good life, hoping she didn’t think too badly of her. Hope was a bastard, but it was also the only thing she had that couldn’t be taken off her. It was both her escape and her prison; life support and life sentence. It pulled her through the years, days, seconds, gifting and cursing her from breath to breath with a string of empty promises. Without it she’d hardly be human.
    There was a sudden eruption of activity right at the back of the balcony. A woman with wispy white hair and enormous glasses shouted and leapt out of her seat, squawking and flapping.
    â€˜We have a claim!’ announced Colin.
    A uniformed girl came running to check the woman’s card, the microphone buzzing in her hand.
    â€˜I need to see your card.’
    â€˜But I’ve not won!’ shouted the woman who by now looked as if she was about to take off. ‘Look – there!’ She pointed towards the shadows in the corner behind her seat. ‘Mouse, you stupidgirl! Not house – mouse ! See? Over there by the wall. Bold as brass, looking at me like it owns the bloody place.’
    Dora stood and peered in the direction the woman was pointing and, right enough, there sat a small brown mouse, perfectly still, its black eyes glinting. Calmly, as if pleased it had made its point, it turned and padded out of sight.
    The hall was in an uproar, some were laughing, some shouting abuse at the woman for interrupting the game. Colin kept repeating, ‘Can I have the code number please?’
    Eventually the girl shouted over her mic, ‘No claim!’ and the game continued.
    â€˜Three and one. Thirty one.’ Get up and run .
    Full house. Couldn’t be. But it was.
    Alec was watching her, a droplet of spit slowly descending from his lower lip. Without looking up from her game, Mary reached over with a tissue and wiped it away before tucking the tissue into the sleeve of her cardigan.
    Dora felt a falling, draining sensation that left the top of her head buzzing with cold, her ears filled with sea-shell emptiness. This wasn’t supposed to happen to her. She looked at Mary and Jim, at the rows of heads in the hall below, bowed over their cards.
    Then the realisation. She didn’t have to say a thing. If she simply waited, someone else’s card would fill up. Just a matter of time. All she needed to do was wait.
    Colin’s intercom crackled into life carrying the distant shouts of a winning claim in one of the other halls. Dora twisted her card tight and pushed it firmly into the neck of her almost empty bottle.
    Mary and Jim were comparing their missed numbers, groaning and laughing over their near misses. Mary looked upat her, ‘No luck either then, Dora?’
    Dora felt light, as if she could launch herself off the balcony and fly in great swooping arcs around the hall. ‘No, not tonight, Mary. Maybe next time.’
    â€˜We live in hope eh?’ said Jim, rising from his seat and gathering up the empty glasses. ‘Same again?’

Home Security 2
    The interview was in a second floor flat converted into offices. The conversion amounted to no more than stripping out anything homey and throwing in a few desks, swivel chairs and ring binders. The air smelled of sweat and adolescent aftershave. Crooked venetian blinds were drawn against the sunlight, casting the room into shadow save for the glow from a PC screen. The bluish light made everyone in the room look like corpses, including Derek and his business partner, Darren, both of whom wore wide ties and grimy-looking pastel shirts.
    Derek looked me up and down and offered me his hand to shake, already bored with the formalities. He glanced at the single printed page of my CV, sighed and tossed it onto the desk. My earlier misgivings started muttering and edging forward in my mind but I herded them back and shushed them into