Monday December 4, Afternoon
Mechanically Charlie went through the motions on his shift. Take the orders, serve the drinks, clean up, wash the glasses, take the orders, serve the drinks, clean up...his mind a thousand miles away, well about a hundred or so. He'd started his new job this weekend. Job. A flush rose to his face as he recalled just what his new job entailed.
His bank account, which was meager to begin with, the job at the Stixs barely a third of what he made at the reserve, had dwindled into overdrawn status what with having to buy food for Chauncey. It seemed he'd depleted the deer herds in the local area and had been forced to start buying beef at the markets in London and that wasn't cheap.
It was on one of these excursions into Muggle London to buy the 100 pounds of meat that he's seen the help wanted sign. Really, he didn't know what he was getting into and when the bloke had told him what was expected of him, Charlie had started to leave, but then the man told him what he'd be making. He could earn more in two nights than he did in a month working here. For that kind of money, he could do anything.