Leather bound [Yao's Antique Shop] [Arthur and Yao]

"You're right, a person's memories are very precious. They're not something to be tampered with lightly. I would never erase a person's memories so far as to change them or make them forget themselves, just enough to forget me. It's necessary sometimes, you see." It was far easier to make someone forget his existence than to explain his continued youthfulness.

He shook his head in disbelief at Arthur's inhibitions. "Afraid to fall? You've been given wings! If you were never to use them because you were scared, then they would only ever be a burden. You have to try, even if it goes wrong and you hurt yourself a few times, you must try." Admittedly, he'd never had to learn to fly, and it sounded ridiculous to be urging this boy to attempt it, but he'd fallen from great heights before and suffered many different kinds of pain, and to go through life denying oneself one's potential for fear of getting hurt seemed depressing to him.

Yao shrugged when he offered his condolences. "It was very long ago." He did miss his family, but his memories of them were vague now, and so much time had passed, and so many people had died since that the pain of their loss had numbed. "Few would believe us, and fewer still would accept us. You're right not to tell anyone." It felt a little sad, and he didn't want Arthur deprived of the support of his family at such a difficult time, but he doubted they'd be able to help him.

He nodded, smiling. "That sounds like a very good idea. I think it would be wise to reach some kind of consensus on this situation."

"But I'll die if I fall." Arthur said firmly, "And I don't know how to take off from the ground. I'd have to drop from a building and then it's fall or fly. Besides... were could I fly? We could get seen, you know. And I don't want to be spotted and mistaken for an Angel." He joked, "Wouldn't want to encourage the religious types, would we?" Then he sighed, knowing he had to be more serious. "I suppose, if there was a place, I could try."

"I've spoken to very few people so far. But it's very important that we stick together, isn't it? Together we stand, divided we fall, and all that." He said, and took a deep breath, "Okay, I suppose we'll have to put up posters or something, won't we?" it was beginning to form in his mind, not completely, but enought that he was confident in the plan. It had to happen at some point...

"So what kinds of antiques do you sell? Just anything you pick up?" He presumed they were Chinese antiques, because the ones he'd seen seemed pretty Chinese, but presumably it was just things he'd picked up, which could be anything.

"Not necessarily." He shrugged. True, a bad fall could break a couple of bones, but if he picked low building and a good spot to land and didn't fall head-first he shouldn't get too badly hurt. Yao should know- he was an expert on falling. "Birds learn by jumping from a branch, rather than from the ground, don't they? So from somewhere high might be best." Ah yes, the issue of being seen. Tall buildings with men jumping off the roof were rather conspicuous. "You could try at night? Though you probably shouldn't go alone." Either way, Arthur's 'power' wasn't something easily hidden and if he were to use it, it would be quite conspicuous.

"I haven't spoken to many of the other tenants either." He admitted. After a few generations of neighbours, it seems pointless to keep track of them any more. We? He was involved in this now? When had he agreed to that? Oh well, he thought, he'd been here longer than anyone else, so he had some kind of responsibility, he supposed.

"Mainly items from China and East Asia." It was a good niche market, he found; Chinese ornaments and artefacts had become increasingly rare since the Cultural Revolution, and the rich were willing to pay quite a lot for trinkets to decorate their homes. He got quite a lot of business from people setting up Chinese restaurants as well, wanting them to look 'authentic'. One of the problems with selling antiques was that one could become quite attached to what one sells, learning a lot about its history and its creator, fixing it and cleaning it, so it become difficult to let it go to some uninformed, unappreciative customers. That's why he liked Arthur; buying books he could get enjoyment from was far preferable to customers coming to buy vases simply because they could afford to. "You like books, don't you?" He smiled "The ones I display on the shop floor are only there for show, they're not my best stock."

"Could you come out with me?" He asked. "I don't know anyone else who would agree... you seem like you've had some experience with falling and after so long, surely you know some first aid." He was worred that if he fell and he was unconcious, he wouldn't be able to put his wings away and they couldn't take him to the Emergency room. Arthur felt a phantom pain in his back just thinking about the wings.

"I suppose people come and go a lot. Especially since there's so many students here, I know I wouldn't keep track. But now, things have changed. We're all in the same boat." He sipped the tea, mostly using it to have something to hold. "Even you're with us. We're not alone, not for now." He gave Yao what he hoped was a comforting smile.

He nodded along pleasantly when Yao explained about his antiques. They all looked very interesting, but he'd be worried about breaking them. Still, they wee the sorts of things he'd love to be around and he envied Yao, getting to look after them for a living.

"Yeah, I love books." He beamed, "Just for show? But they seemed interesting to me." He said, "Very few books have little value to me, I love all books. There are only a few, I don't really like comic books. They're not real books to me. So what's your best stock then?" He thought about it, first editions? Rare manuscripts? He hoped they were interesting. "So I take it you like books as well?"

"Uh," He supposed he'd set himself up for that. He hadn't expected to let himself in for this much interaction, and he wasn't really used to it after keeping himself to himself for so long. "Of course." He smiled politely. He wasn't sure how much help he'd be if he broke his leg or his arm or his neck, but he could try at least.

He nodded. He was glad Arthur could sort of understand his predicament. "Yes, it's nice to know you're not the only one, I suppose." Though already he knew that even if he befriended the whole building, they'd all move out sooner or later, and he'd outlive every single one of them. That said, some company once in a century wasn't a bad thing, he thought to himself, smiling.

"Well, it's good that you can get so much enjoyment out of them. Most young people these days seem to have their eyes glued to screens of some kind." He tutted. He owned a television, but it was several years out of date and rather dusty from lack of use. In fact, he hadn't switched it on in a long time. (Of course, if he does he'll find it won't work because he's missed the digital switch-over). "I can show you, if you'd like?" He grinned, putting his empty cup down and standing up to move to the other end of the back room, where he kept the large, glass-fronted cabinet full of old, expensive tomes and maps. He fished a key out of his pocket and unlocked it, hit by the scent of musty old books.

He hoped he wasn't over-stepping a boundary, asking Yao to help him learn to fly. After all, he had only just met the man and he was already hoping they could meet again? It seemed a little forward. "Only, of course, if you have time." He said smoothly, to try and cover up his embarassment. It seemed like a good enough save. "I really appreciate it." He allowed himself to give a small smile, relieved that he didn't seem to think it was too strange. He hoped he wouldn't die... That would be a bit inconvenient. But he had wings, and as Yao said, he should use them.

"TVs pale in comparison to books. I only watch a few tv shows, I'm not very dependent on the TV. I really like things like that Sherlock and Doctor Who! But most things are just brain rotting drivel." He said. He had a TV, but it wasn't very big, because he didn't have much space for it. Hey, he was paying for his TV license, he may as well use it, right?

He jumped up, grinning in excitement, "I'd love it see it!" He said, hurring over. Wow, it looked so fascinating... he reached out and looked at the books, nervous about touching them. He was worried that if he touched them, they would crumble. "Blimey... this is spectacular." These had clearly been old books when Yao had bought them.

Yao had all the time in the world, literally, so finding time to help Arthur in his endeavour shouldn't be a problem. "It's no problem." he said casually, though now he was starting to panic a little bit considering Arthur was practically putting his life in his hands. Maybe someone in the building had acquired magical healing abilities or something? They'd be much more help than he would.

Yao was even less up to date with television than Arthur was. "Doctor Who? Is that programme still being broadcast?" He'd never really watched it, but he remembered people talking about it way back in the '60s. Surely it couldn't have been going all these years? The actors would have all passed on by now.

He smiled at Arthur's excitement. "I don't show these to most customers, usually only people buying for libraries or universities. Not many people can afford these for their personal collections, apart from a few scholars and academics." He was pretty proud of his collection; together they were worth tens of thousands of pounds. Most were first editions, some even signed by the authors themselves, and they were all beautifully put together, leather-bound tomes. There were almanacs, books of Chinese myths and legends, histories of military conquests, maps and charts of stars. They were too valuable to be put on display, and too old to be left in the open air for bugs and mould to eat away at the precious pages, so they stayed in the dark back room behind glass. It was a shame, as books were there to be read and learned from, not locked away. But he couldn't trust customers here not to damage them or buy them simply to use them as ornaments for their bookshelves or coffee tables. He reached out to tenderly stroke the spine of one thin and particularly old book, with 'NEDERLANDS-FORMOSA' embossed in faded gold letters on the worn leather. "This is my oldest one. It's a collection of articles written about Taiwan in the 17th Century. It's all in Dutch, I can't make head or tail of it, but it's wonderful all the same." He wondered if he should teach himself Dutch so he could read it before someone came along to buy it. It's not like he didn't have enough time to learn a new language, and it would be a shame to let something so old and precious go without knowing what exactly it was about; the vaguely racist illustrations could only tell him so much.

Arthur nodded. He loved Doctor Who, even the old episodes, having seen them since he was a child. "Well, it sort of got cancelled in the...80s? 90s? Then it was rebooted and continued a few years ago. Oh, nearly ten years ago, actually." He was sure it wasn't quite ten years, but it had been running longer than he could imagine. It never really stopped though, because there was the movie that wasn't very good and a lot of radio dramas." For a while, they used to be his bed time stories. Then it was Harry Potter, then he sort of grew out of bed time stories and wanted to read for himself. "But now it's really mainstream, haven't you noticed?" Surely he must have seen all the merchandise. Even if he didn't watch the TV, whenever you went in to a large enough shop there were things with the TARDIS or the Doctor's face plastered over it. Maybe he hadn't recognised it as Doctor Who? "I suppose it lends itself towards being long running because of the nature of the Doctor." He said, forgetting it wasn't obvious.

"Do you have to wear gloves before you touch them?" He asked. People on TV were always putting on cotton gloves. Something about the oils in your skin damaging the pages or something. He wasn't really sure of the science and he'd not been around such old books before. Not without a good inch of glass and an alarm system. A few caught his eye immediately; story books he was vaguely familiar with, from literature class or just around, not that Asian authors were covered very much. Old, possibly first editions but still valuable even if they weren't.

Yao turned his attention towards a particular book and he nodded as he listened to the description. "Sounds really interesting." And probably really racist, thinking about it. Most books on asians were, at the time. "Maybe you should ask someone dutch to see what they can make of it." He didn't know a word of Dutch. Well, he could guess a bit, because some of it sounded like English, and some of it sounded a bit German, but he wouldn't consider himself at all fluent. Especially since his German had really detiroriated recently, since he wasn't using it. Maybe he should go practice a bit... his parents had made him take languages for a long time, he may as well use them, right?

"What other books do you have?" He asked. "What's that one?" He motioned to one with a red leather cover and stamped in gold, but the letters were a little worn. It seemed to be something to do with boats, however, and he guessed it may have been a book of maps, "What period is it?" He guessed it was probably in French. So much stuff was in French.

"No, I hadn't noticed." He probably had seen things related to the show before, but it all just seemed to pass him by in a blur of pop culture. He'd tried to keep up with it before, he really had, but at some point he just lost the motivation to understand all the vacuous rubbish going on around him. He was a little stuck in the past, he'd admit that, but as far as he could tell culture had just progressively declined since he was young. Though to be fair, things like social welfare and healthcare and general standards of living had vastly improved, so he couldn't complain. "The nature of the doctor?" He asked, intrigued.

He shook his head. "No, if you clean your hands first you should be fine. Wearing cotton gloves only decreases your dexterity and makes it more likely you'll rip or crease the pages." He'd had to do his fair share of research on this, and while in many archives in museums and libraries insisted on you wearing gloves to handle old books, the truth of the matter was unless you had dirty or profusely sweaty hands, you should be able to touch the paper without damaging it. "Would you like to take a look at them?" Arthur seemed to be appropriately reverent and cautious about the books, so he was sure he'd be careful if he let him read one or two.

"Hm, perhaps I should." He nodded. He fancied the idea of learning the language. It would give him something to do in his empty hours in the shop other than read the paper. He looked at the book that Arthur gestured to. "This red one?" The letters on the spine had faded almost to invisibility from years of wear and tear, but he knew what it was from memory. "Do you know 'The Illustrated London News'?" He asked, not certain if he would. It was a popular publication when he was young, but had gone out of print years ago, so unless Arthur was keen on history, he doubted he would. "This is a book published by the French equivalent, the, uh 'Monde Illustree'." He couldn't pronounce it. He'd never learned French, and he'd never been encouraged to, but he sort of wished he had a better grasp of it so he didn't butcher the pronunciation. "It was published in the late 19th Century. It's about Vietnam, or French Indochina as it was known when this was published." He picked it off the shelf and carefully opened it, spine creaking slightly as he did. The pages were yellowed at the edges but the ink was as clear and defined as the day he'd bought it. He turned to an illustration of a Vietnamese harbour with French steamers and frigates in the background.

"Oh, the Doctor is an alien, so whenever he dies he regenerates in to a whole new body. It's just an excuse to change main character, don't you think?" He laughed, "Still, it works. It means that the show's nearly 50." He explained. He wondered what it had been like for Yao for a moment. He imagined how strange the changes in pop culture must have been. He couldn't imagine that, he could barely get used to computers and phones. They were changed so much, what was wrong with just wanting to call someone on a telephone? He didn't want to play Angry Birds or other stupid games.

"Well do you want me to wash my hands? I don't think my hands are very dirty but it can't hurt, right?" He fidgited with his hands awkwardly. "Can I use your bathroom or something?" He asked, hoping it wasn't being impolite or expecting to touch the books, he would understand if he wasn't let near them. But he could have a look at the books first right. They were so fascinating, he couldn't help but look a little longer.

He leaned in to the book. It looked fantastic, and he could understand a little bit of French from his Latin and GCSE languages, not that he'd like it very much. "This is really interesting... where did you get it?" He asked. It was probably a boring story, but he'd like to know when, at least. He reached out, wanting to turn the page, then pulled his hand back hesitantly. What about the oils on his hands? He hadn't washed them yet. Not to mention ripping it accidentally.

"An alien?" What a bizarre concept for a programme. That said, he himself was immortal and Arthur had wings and he was sure there were far stranger powers that people had acquired, so why not an immortal alien? "I see."

He nodded and smiled "Yes, of course. There's a bathroom through there." He gestured to the door next to the filing cabinets, glad to have met someone so interested in his books. He felt bad keeping such beautiful and interesting specimens here away from the public, but they were so precious, both emotionally and monetarily, he couldn't bare for them to get damaged or even bought by someone who wouldn't put them to good use.

He frowned slightly, trying to remember exactly how he'd acquired this particular book. "I was in Paris, right at the end of the Great War, waiting to be shipped back home. A French soldier was selling off some of his possessions, books and trinkets and the like, and I bought this from him. I only really found out what it was years later when I started selling antiques. He should have kept it, it's worth a lot of money now." He may not have been alive to see the rewards, but his children or grandchildren could certainly have earned something from it. "But not all soldiers were lucky enough to have secure jobs to come back to after the War, so I suppose he needed the money straight away." He smiled as he saw Arthur reach to turn the page. He was seemed so keen to read, but nervous to cause any kind of damage. He was a good boy.

Yao seemed a bit sceptical about the concept. It was science fiction, it didn't have to make perfect sense in the real world, but the real world had just gotten a little more insane so he didn't know what to think any more. "It's a good show, really." He insisted. He liked it, it was fun.

He hurried to the bathroom and washed his hands thoroughly with slightly cold water and a fragrant soap that he couldn’t quite place. It was a bit of a depressing place, it was a little small and old. It was old, probably close to as old as the building it was in. He washed them about three times, just to make sure his hands were clean before he came back.

“It seems to me that sort of thing happens all the time.” He said sadly. It was a shame that people sold things so cheaply that had once been so precious. “My family house is a manor house. It’s a bit dilapidated but we have a lot of really old antique things, family portraits, an amazing library that part of which I wasn’t allowed in to, vases and all of this. But we had a lot more before, my great grandfather sold off a whole bunch of Chippendale furniture because it was just Victorian rubbish, like selling furniture you bought in the 70s would be today. We kept some of the older stuff though, the house has been in my family since the Stuart Era.

“I’m sure he needed the money. We did. We still do, we could probably sell a few of our paintings to help pay for upkeep. There’s a leak in the ceiling of the nursery.” He mused, frowning, looking over the book. “At least you’ve kept it well, it hasn’t been destroyed by careless people who simply inherited it.” It was a fascinating looking book.

"I'm sure it is..." He wasn't particularly convinced, but Arthur seemed a clever boy, so he trusted him that it must be a good programme, though he doubted he'd ever watch it himself.

He waited for Arthur to come back from the bathroom, smelling distinctly of the shanzhu soap he kept in there. He reminded himself to pick some more up next time he was in China; the scent made him happy, thinking of his childhood in China. He handed Arthur the book with a smile "Be careful." He instructed, though he doubted he even needed to say it; Arthur had been so reverent of the books, he really had nothing to worry about.

He nodded as Arthur related the soldier's situation to his own. So he was a family with a good name, but not much money to it. He'd heard of lots of situations like that over the years. "But it would be a shame to sell those things, wouldn't it? It's part of your heritage." Sometimes Yao thought he wasn't suited for selling antiques; he couldn't help thinking about people's emotional attachment to these old things, and regretting buying their heirlooms. Maybe he put too much of his own emotions into his own possessions. He wondered if Arthur had a part-time job. He knew he was a student, so maybe he didn't have time to work. But if his family's financial situation was really as bad as all that, he probably did have a job too. He shrugged at Arthur's comment. "Well, possibly. Though I can't help thinking that if he'd kept it, at least he and his family would have been able to read and understand it. But it's just stayed in a cabinet for decades, useless."

Arthur nodded, “We don’t sell unless we have to.” He said softly. He hated coming home and seeing things missing, it filled him with a sadness he wasn’t really sure how to express to anyone else. “But perhaps I’m too attached to our things, they’d probably be better off in a museum or something.” Instead of in a damp and dusty house where they’d probably end up crumbling before their time.

He finished looking through the book. “I don’t think it’s useless here. It’s not doing anything at the moment, but it’s waiting for something to happen. If it was with his family they might read it once and put it away on a shelf, where it would be left, never to be read. Here, someone who loves it might buy it.” He’d gone all poetic again. Arthur always went a little doe-eyed over books, he’d been teased about it a great deal in his youth. “I’m reading it, aren’t I? I’m somewhat understanding it.” He gave a small smile.

"Maybe they would. But many items in museums end up in storage rather than on display, so perhaps it's better for you to keep them where they are so they can at least be appreciated by a few people." He nodded. "It's hard not to get attached to your possessions. After a certain point, they stop being 'things' and become memories, important parts of your life." Back a few decades ago when he was having trouble paying rent, he'd been forced to sell some of his own family heirlooms. He'd felt so guilty and upset to let them go. "But I suppose needs must, sometimes."

He smiled at what Arthur said. "One would hope so. Maybe if I had a few more customers like you." He took back the book once Arthur was finished with it and put it back in its rightful place on the shelf. "You can come back and read others if you like." He offered "Then at least one person would be getting enjoyment out of them, until I can find proper owners for them."

Arthur gave a happy smile, “Really?” He said, “Thank you so much.” He was happy that Yao trusted him enough to let him touch these books. He was quite glad that he had decided to come here, even if he was going to only be eating bread, not even bread and cheese, that was far too decedent. Well, at least he didn’t eat much anyway.

He rested his head on his hand. “So how much work does it take to run an antiques shop?” He asked curiously, “And where do you get your antiques? Do you go to Asia a lot?” He asked curiously. He’d never really talked to anyone who did something as interesting and eclectic as owning an antiques shop. He wasn’t a history student but he did like history and he found this was quite... cool.

"It's fine; you seem responsible enough, I'd be happy to let you read them." He was glad to see Arthur was so happy about something as simple as getting to read some books.

"Oh, um, the shop's rarely busy, so I get a lot of time to take care of financial things and paperwork. But it is rather a lot to handle by oneself." He was old, and running a shop by himself from nine to half past five, six days a week nearly every week of the year was quite trying. He'd considered hiring help before, but he always forgot, or he would be too busy to find anyone. "I mostly acquire these antiques at auctions, but sometimes I buy directly from private owners. It's rather expensive to travel to Asia, so I only go every few years, but I usually find some rather exciting items while I'm out there, so it's definitely worth the cost." That and he couldn't be away from China for too long without getting an urge to return.

"So, you like these sorts of things, do you? Antiques, I mean." He knew Arthur was a student, but he wasn't sure what he studied. With his interest, perhaps he was a historian. But considering how much he loved books, maybe he was a literature student.

Arthur would suggest he would help out. He had the time and he could probably do with a little money. There were less interesting places he could work at and he really did need a job to fun his book habit. It would probably be cheaper to start up a heroin habit... He just nodded to what Yao said, listening interestedly. He wondered what China would be like, he’d never been to anywhere in Asia. “When did you last go?” He asked.

He nodded firmly. “I find history is rather interesting, I sort of like getting a glimpse in to a different time.” He explained. “I guess it’s just a bit of a hobby.” He said, “I don’t really know that much about it.”

"I last went... ah, I think it was about five years ago. I'm going again this autumn. It's such a hassle to go though; I have to close my shop while I'm away, which is bad for business, and it's a little risky leaving it unattended for so long." He sighed. Most of the associates he knew through auctions and business had their own shops or businesses to run, so it wasn't as if he could ask them to look after his shop while he was away.

"Well, it's a good hobby. I find it very interesting to read about history, even reading about things that I have lived through and seeing how historians interpret it. What do you study?" He asked, though he was pretty sure by this point that he was a literature student or something along those lines.

Arthur thought he would have loved to look after a shop like this. But he didn't think he would be able to do it, he wasn't clumsy, not at all, but he didn't know about the items and he was rather absent minded. He wouldn't live with himself if he just lost something valuable. "I can see why that would lose you bussiness, that must be a bit troublesome. Maybe you should hire an assistant? I'm sure a history student or something would take the experience for very little money." He was rarely a sensible person, but when he was, he did say the most sensible things, and he was quite proud of himself. "I know I would. If I had the expertise."

"Oh, I'm one of those useless layabouts, I'm a literature student." He chuckled, "We do nothing but talk about books all day, it's very fun, though perhaps not worth the money I'm spending on it." He wouldn't change it, even if it was a waste of money, "There will be time to be practical later, though." He said. Perhaps it was a foolish way of looking at it but he didn't care, "My parents both support me in my choice of course."

He nodded "Yes, I've been thinking of hiring somebody to help me for a while now, but I've never really got around to doing it... Do you know anyone you could recommend?* Someone conscientious, interested and careful, and not a bore to hang around would be preferable... well, come to think of it, Arthur fit the bill, but he didn't want to make him feel pressured into it. But it would save him the trouble of having to interview other people.

He laugh at his comment on the impracticality of his degree "Well, it's most important to study what you're passionate about. Money isn't all that important really, your happiness is." He'd spent a lot of his life aspiring to be rich and successful, but over the years he realised there was no reason for it; he had a roof over his head, clothes on his back, food on his plate, and it wasn't as if he'd ever have a family to support, so it was more important to be happy than to dedicate his life to making money. That said, he had little in his life other than his shop.

Arthur thought about it for a moment. One of the history students up at the university might do it, he thought, but he wasn't sure of any of their names or how trustworthy or hardworking they would be. He didn't know anyone in the building who might help either. "Not really. Sorry." He said, and then after a pause, casually said, "Of course, I would help but... I hardly have the expertise." It was unfortunate. He liked it here. He was sure he would make a mess of it though; he wasn't clumsy, but he was definitely prone to losing and misplacing things, putting them down and wondering off. He wondered what it would be like to work here, would he get attatched to the things and not want to see them leave? Probably; he was awfully sentimental.

He gave a small, almost teasing smile, "How very philosophical of you." He said. "But making money is important, annoyingly enough. If I want to keep up our house - and I do, then I have to have the money to be able to fix things when they leak and restore the paintings." He sighed thoughtfully and looked down, "Maybe we should just sell it off to the national heritage..." He said in a rather defeated way. It was bound to happen one day, wasn't it? "But I am happy, I suppose that's important too. Maybe I'll become a famous writer. Or at least a successful one, I might have to sell out." He joked, "But really, how hard can it be to write something like Twilight that millions of 13 year old girls will happily buy from you and buy merchandise of."

He waved dismissively "No expertise is required- I only need someone who can help me keep the shop clean and tidy and help lock up at the end of the day." And help him work the damn register, but he didn't need to mention that. "Just as long as you're not prone to dropping or breaking things, you're qualified." He thought it might be nice to have Arthur worked here- he liked history and was inquisitive, he seemed like he'd take good care of things, and if he could appreciate tea and tobacco he was all right by him.

"No, I see what you mean. It's very noble of you to want to help your family and preserve your home. 'Extreme indeed is the greatness of filial piety'." He smiled to himself. "But you're still so young, do you not have elder siblings who could help as well?"

"Oh... that sound rather easy, doesn't it? You just need someone to do the menial things while you do the important historical things, then?" He asked, "...I'd quite like to work here, if I'm honest. It seems nice." Sure, he probably wouldn't be working for very much money... but it was better than working in MacDonald's or even in Tesco. He'd have a chance to lean a little more, maybe it would even help with his course. "There are worse places to work."

"Yeah, I do have older siblings... to be honest, I think the house is going to the eldest... I don't know if he'll want it but... we've all got to do our part. Just because I'm young doesn't - and should not - let us off. It's part of our family duty." He ran a hand through his hair thoughtfully. "Still, I'm away at university, it's not my duty or priority right now."

"You would?" He smiled "Well, if you want to work here, you can." He was quite relieved, finally being able to hire someone who could look after the shop for him. He didn't exactly know the legal procedures for hiring staff or what an acceptable rate of pay was, but he was sure he could find all that out easily enough. "Oh, I see. You're right to be focussing on your studies for now, I think."