John ambled down the street, leaning on his cane. He had been back in London for two weeks and had reached the end of his severance package. He really aught to get a job of some kind; he'd really prefer to not dip into his savings.
However, it wasn't as simple as it sounded. He cracked open the door of the cafe, and sat down at his normal table. He liked this place. The food was good, the coffee was strong and best of all, the owner treated him like he was a person, which was more than could be said for most strangers. He could practically feel the other customers eyes burning a hole into the back of his head. It was the kind of thing you would get used to, he reminded himself doubtfully.
His phone buzzed. Another message from Harriet. She knew why he refused her help. Annoyed, he ignored the message. A waitress came up to take his order and he could see her face twist into shock. He grimace as she hid her shock with a smile. They always did this. No one ever mentioned it but he knew what they were thinking.
He had to see it every day in the mirror. The messy, dark scars that traced the outlines of his face. That taunted him everyday. He did not regret the events that lead to them though. If he had a choice he would so it again. Protecting his battalion was the only thing that mattered to him. He would do anything for them, if he had the choice.
Now, he reminded himself, he had lost that choice. His injuries had lead to an honourable discharge and he was back in England indefinitely. He ordered his coffee, black as always, and asked for a newspaper. Flicking through it, he found the Help Wanted section. As irritating as it was, the hospital application process took quite a few weeks and he needed something to tide him over till then.
There was disappointingly little on offer, and even fewer jobs that weren't manual labour or otherwise physically demanding. With his cane he couldn't exactly lift crates or stack shelves, at least not effectively. There were a few babysitting jobs available but he didn't trust himself to be capable with small children and he didn't want to scare them with his scars. Eventually, he found something that piqued his interest. It was vague but if legitimate would be a good offer. It said:
Help Wanted
Seeking assistance. Live in position. Will be assisting a 26 year old blind man. Basic housekeeping skills preferred. Pay will be discussed in person. Call 020192116 for more information.
Short and to the point. John snapped a photo of the article, folded up the paper and put it away. He would call them later. For now, he needed coffee and a lot of it.