Chapter One
The present day: March 2014
Insanity, repeating the same thing over and over and expecting different results, Einstein had said that. Repetitiveness, that’s what life is. How could there ever be anything fresh or new? Not if all we did was go round in a synchronized pattern like the hands on a clock face every day. How could anyone break that pattern? It was an argument Hazel Chorley had been having with herself for ever such a long time now. So long in fact, she couldn’t remember when she had first had the thought.
Bleep! Bleep! Bleep! The same sounds rang inside her head day after day. The self-service tills at the supermarket had become her music. She had been more than this once, more than a supermarket skivvy being under appreciated and ordered about by brainless managers that had used any means necessary to get to the top rather than work for it. She watched nameless faces go by day after day, not taking a blind bit of notice of her until they had a complaint.
She wondered how many times she had repeated the same words to customers, phrases implanted in her brain to deal with the onslaught brought upon her by disgruntled shoppers. Work, consume, die. Working here had rather a negative effect on her thinking. Now she had just crept into her forties, she felt all she had left to live for had passed her by. Who she was had gone. What she had lost was never coming back and this was her resting place, trapped within a bubble of everlasting heartache whilst compelled to never move forward.
“What you doing on self-scan?” Why had she asked herself that? She stopped staring into the abyss of her thoughts and fell back into reality, her eyes clasped onto the face of Gemma walking towards her. Hazel didn’t feel like answering, she hated questions which enforced the realism of her life. She hated knowing the truth about where she actually was but hated the fact everyone knew she hated her life even more so.
“Cover,” she replied wearily. “Everyone’s found an excuse not to be here. Irfan’s on his break so has popped off to the mosque. Michael’s phoned in sick, not that he is.”
“No, we all know where he is. Stuck in bed with that tart from oven fresh,” accused Gemma, with no hint of remorse for her opinion. Hazel liked the fact Gemma never minced her words. Both were too long in the tooth to even bother trying to hide what they really felt about this place.
“Debra’s off sick and its Friday evening so all the checkout staff are preoccupied, meaning I’m here and they know I shouldn’t be on here. They know why I don’t like being on here. I’ve explained it to them.” Hazel could feel herself getting worked up, Gemma could too.
“I know, I know,” she said sympathetically whilst putting a hand on her shoulder and gently rubbing it.
Both knew this was more than just about being relocated to another part of the store. Self-scan didn’t even involve hard work. This was about much more, Hazel didn’t want to face her past and being in the open watching the people, seeing the families upset her. Normally she worked in the admin office upstairs, out of the way just the rest of the staff for company.
“They never listen in this place. The management just fire fight all the time,” Hazel complained.
“You’ve spent too much time working in this place, it’s starting to get to get to you. You have to stop taking so much on. You’re dedicating your life to this place.” Gemma was concerned. She knew Hazel’s reasons for wanting to avoid the front of house duties at the store but she also knew Hazel was full of despair about herself. She didn’t have a purpose; she would just give her time to the supermarket even though she hated it. Gemma had got her this job. Now she felt guilty for it, it had only made things worse.
“And where else would you have me?” snapped Hazel. “I’m forty one years old. I’ve worked here seven years, I just come in, do my job and go home. Nothing special.”
“And nothing else to live for?” Gemma asked. “Everyone can see you don’t like working here. Oh you put a brave face on it but it’s clear as crystal you don’t belong here.” Gemma had said this before, plenty of times but she hoped one day she might get through to her
“You’re wasting your time and talent. You shouldn’t let the past stop you from moving on. With the right help you could go back to what you were trained for,” encouraged Gemma, although she felt now she was more pleading than encouraging after all the times she had said it before.
“You know I can’t do that, I’m not ready,” Hazel insisted.
“And you never will be if you keep saying that,” counted Gemma. Hazel was starting to feel backed into a corner even though she knew Gemma was only looking out for her.
“You know my reasons, don’t push. I can’t you know that.”
“Well you’re wasted here and I hate seeing you like this.” The moment was lost as the tannoy cracked into life, for Hazel this was partly a relief.
“Staff call,” a voice echoed from the tannoy. “Hazel Chorley contact 1,7,2, Hazel Chorley.” Hazel sighed with annoyance.
“What now? Am I summoned to do emergency butchery procedures because one of the silly sods has chopped a finger off?” She scathed sarcastically.
“In your mood I wouldn’t be giving you a knife,” quipped Gemma. Hazel laughed, Gemma was right she was being a moody cow but Gemma had managed to find a chink in her armour.
“I’ll catch you later,” she smiled.
“Oh, you still coming to the art class tonight?” Gemma had nearly forgotten to ask and she liked having Hazel with her.
“Oh, I don’t know, that Mr. Willis gives me the creeps.” Hazel loathed the class. She only went to try something new at Gemma’s request. The tutor was creepy, she couldn’t draw and the rest of the students only went in the hope of perving on a decent looking life model. Even then they hadn’t had much luck.
“Oh come on what else are you going to do? Tell you what after class we’ll go out for a few, how’s that?” Bribery and Hazel knew it.
“Alright, fine. You’ve twisted my arm. Now I’ve got to go,” she insisted as she began to walk away from Gemma and the self-scan tills.
“Okay bugger off,” said Gemma jokingly. “See you at seven.”
You have certainly captured Hazel's predicament - stuck in a job she hates- and hinted at something in her past that has led her to this position.
However, if this is the beginning of a novel, you need to entice the readers in, with an incident that catches and holds their attention. Most of the theories of plot I've seen call for an initiating incident. So perhaps Hazel gets in a row with a manager, or with a customer?
You need to be careful with your point of view. It's fine to start with Hazel, if she is your protagonist but then you change the point of view to Gemma and back again. If you want to use multiple points of view, you need to describe both your women and make them clearly differentiated from each other.
You also need some description of the supermarket. Although we all know what supermarkets are like, we could do with knowing how busy it is, where exactly Hazel and Gemma are standing, whether there are bright lights overhead etc.