I drove my little blue Fiat car into the village, found a space in one of the bays and took my basket into the small greengrocer’s. It’s so nice that certain things just stay the same. I’ve been going there for over twenty years and it is still owned by the same lady that owned it back then.
I walked into the grocer’s and heard the sound of the bell above the door let out its familiar ping. June looked up from behind the counter and beamed one of her smiles.
‘Hello, Annie.’
‘Hello, June.’ I walked over to the vegetables and started placing items into my basket all the while thinking about what I would cook tonight.
I have been so used to whipping up meals for the two of us that now I find cooking for one difficult. Ben has such an appetite that it was like cooking for a family of four. He would always go in for second and third helpings and finished up the leftovers without hesitation.
So I started to freeze meals, my intention being that every time Ben visits I can send him off with a batch of homemade food. But he hasn’t visited. Not for over a month. And I cannot conceal the contempt I feel, the anger that begins in the pit of my stomach and then consumes me so I feel the need to run out to the wall at the bottom of the garden and scream into the vast ocean.
I can’t imagine for a moment that Ben’s new wife has time to stand and cook a meal at the stove like I do. Of course, I couldn’t always cook. There was a time when cooking terrified me. But I had to do it. It was expected of me and once I began, I enjoyed it. Being able to create something from raw ingredients and watch it develop into something wholesome and magnificent is truly a satisfying experience.
‘Any tomatoes today?’ June hollered, wrenching me from my thoughts. ‘Got some lovely ones over here.’ She pointed to a large box of ripe red tomatoes next to her.
‘Oh yes, go on then.’ I walked over to the counter. ‘I’ll take six.’ I thought about Ben as I watched June choosing the tomatoes and how he loved one grilled for his breakfast.
‘How’s things today, Annie?’ June took a brown paper bag and started dropping the shiny red fruit into it.
‘Oh, you know. Same as,’ I said as I looked away from her and out of the window.
‘How’s that boy of yours getting on then?’
I began imagining Ben as a small boy when he would run around this very grocery store and help me count out the vegetables.
‘Yes, you know, same as usual.’ I felt a pang in my stomach, a gut tightening feeling and I was overcome for a moment with sadness that Ben wasn’t that little boy any more, that June couldn’t comment on his floppy dark locks and tell me he was the apple of my eye, and I would nod and say yes, he was my everything.
‘They are so busy at this age, aren’t they? Flitting about. No time to think of anyone but themselves.’
I nodded. ‘Yes, but he loves his mum.’ I didn’t even consider that I should share the news about his marriage. Or the other news.
June smiled at me and handed me the brown paper bag.
I left the grocer’s with the dinging of the bell in my ears. As I stepped out of the shop I turned right to go to the butcher’s. Between the grocer’s and the butcher’s was a small electrical store selling LED TVs and docking stations and all the modern appliances young people couldn’t live without these days. As far as I was concerned the shop was an eye sore. And as for that colossal TV screen in the window, I mean, who needs a sixty-inch television in their lounge? But today as I passed, I couldn’t help but turn my head to look at the image showing on the TV that towered above me and suddenly something was so very familiar. I tripped slightly and the basket slipped from my fingers. I didn’t look down at the tomatoes that had fallen out, but I knew the ripe fruit would now be a red smashed mess around my feet. I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen. I could feel bile rising in the back of my throat and I thought I could very well be sick. The size and imposition of the TV was instrumental in showing in full HD colour, a news report with the headlines underneath.
And above that, the face of the person I’d hoped I would never see again.
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About the Author
Nina Manning studied psychology and was a restaurant-owner and private chef (including to members of the royal family). She is the founder and co-host of Sniffing The Pages, a book review podcast. She lives in Dorset.
Visit Nina’s website: https://www.ninamanningauthor.com/
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First published in Great Britain in 2020 by Boldwood Books Ltd.
Copyright © Nina Manning, 2020
Cover Design: Nick Castle Design
Cover Photography: Shutterstock
The moral right of Nina Manning to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
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