Trying to hide his apprehension only made Jack feel worse. His smile, he was certain, would look more like a grimace. No matter how he tried to justify his actions, it didn’t make him feel any better. How could he possibly face the four people who were about to have their lives changed forever?
As he hoisted the last plant onto the trolley, it nearly fell from his hands. Worry was sapping the life out of him. He pushed the trolley up the ramp from the car park, having to put all his weight behind it. By the time he reached the top he was crumbling with exhaustion. He sat at the fountain, gazing into the trickling water and trying to clear his head.
This is for Candice. But no matter how many times he told himself, the anguish still burned through him like acid. He was certain she knew something was up. How could she not? For the last three weeks, he’d been a mess of emotional turmoil. And although he tried to mask it, she had this uncanny ability of almost reading his mind. Without a shadow of a doubt she’d talk him out of it if she knew, even though there was every chance she would die within twelve months without the operation. Hell, it could be tomorrow if she had a massive attack. The doctor said it was lucky she was healthy because her heart was tolerating its irregular rhythm. But the Candice Jack saw every day was no longer healthy. She looked sick. Very, very sick. And yet she continued to rely on blind faith. As for him, faith was gone; nothing short of a booked-in operation date could restore it.
He wiped the sweat off his forehead onto his sleeve and rolled his head from side to side, trying to release the tension. Ready again, he put his weight behind the trolley and wheeled it around the front of the bank and up the service ramp. The glass doors slid open and he welcomed the cool air conditioning.
He did the customary wave at the staff and then set about rotating the plants in the front corners. That done, he pushed the trolley towards the counter access gate.
“Hi, Jack.” It was Pearl who spoke.
He had to swallow the lump in his throat to answer. “Hi Pearl, you’re looking lovely today.” Pearl took great pride in her appearance. Her clothes were elegant, her makeup immaculate and her hair was perfectly curled, as if she had it set in place every morning. It was only occasionally that he noticed the odd grey hair. She smiled as she approached to unlock the gate and that only made him feel worse.
“How’s Candice?”
Jack felt the blood drain from his face. He clutched his trolley, fearful that his legs would crumble beneath him. These people trusted him. They allowed him access to their secure area and treated him like a peer. For the umpteenth time he questioned what the hell he was doing. He forced himself to answer. “She’s good today. Thanks for asking.” Jack hoped Pearl didn’t notice the quiver in his voice.
As he pushed the trolley towards the kitchen at the back of the branch, he forced his brain to mentally tick off his justification. The money is insured. Candice won’t live without the operation. Nobody will get hurt. His stomach lurched at the thought of anyone getting hurt. He felt the blood drain from his face again and knew he was going to throw up. Jack dashed to the men’s toilet and slammed the door open so hard it banged against the wall. Leaning over the porcelain bowl, he gasped for breath. A cold sweat washed over him, making it even worse.
“Are you okay, Jack?”
It was the bank manager. “Yeah, I’m good, thanks, Ian. For a moment there I thought I was going to be sick. Maybe the kebab I had at lunch wasn’t such a good idea.” He hated how good he was getting at lying.
“Can I bring you a glass of water?” There was genuine concern in his voice.
Jack fanned himself, begging the heatwave to simmer down. “I’ll be fine. I just need a minute.”
“Okay, mate. I’ll leave you to it.”
Mate. Some kind of mate I am. I’m about to do something that may change your life forever.
Once he felt almost normal again, he exited the cubicle and splashed cold water on his face. His mind was a scrambled mess of confusion, and as he stared into his own eyes in the mirror, a horrifying thought slammed into his mind. What if this all goes to shit and I end up in jail? What happens to Candice then? How did he get this far without even considering that possibility?
He had to get out of there. Jack shoved the trolley, now loaded with last month’s plants, towards the front of the branch. From the corner of his eye he sighted the ramp to the vault. The money was right there. He imagined he could smell it, touch it. The money would solve everything. Without it, Candice could die.
He had no choice.
Whether he liked it or not, in four days’ time he was going to change the lives of many, many people.