Tom

'We need to go soon', whispered Sally, the other support worker; the one who remained silent because Jenny couldn't stop talking. Jenny's words and sentences ran, like a inter-city train, with a tight schedule to keep.

Sally pushed the chair, with the silver frame and red plastic seat, beneath the coffee table; where someone had left the Daily Mail tattered and carelessly re-folded again. It would be quite a task for anyone to make a decision as to what coffee they might drink. In the years before mobiles, switch-cards and I-pads it was either coffee or tea.

Stepping back into Midland Road; away from the shiny arcade and its empty heart and despondent feet Tom cried out in the cold light.
'Balloon, yellow balloon. Bright yellow balloon with the long string. PLEASE can I have one of those with my pocket money for today? Please Sally; one like that little girl with red shoes and a dolly has.

Tom didn't know his words were loud. That he shouted as a lady stooped as pushed her trolley with the wobbly wheels. Her trolley was stuffed with things from Pound land as well as the market. Tom saw that her straw hat couldn't sit properly on her head; her head staring down at the un-even cracked pavements.
Two oranges slipped deftly from a brown paper bag and rolled defiantly away from her.
She was alone and helpless...until TOM stepped in to help her. Suddenly he felt warmth and light on his skin; knowing he'd done a good thing.