Low Road

Market Encounter

Rowena

"Harrrmmmgghhnnff," the yawn wracked through Rowena Tremont's whole body as she stared at the rain drizzling down the side of her electric blue mini. She glanced dubiously at her heater, which was diligently warming the car to a satisfying 30 degrees. If she turned the dial down the ensuing cold would shock her awake, leaving her alert and invigorated. Should she? Her deliberation was embarrassingly short. In fact she turned it up a few degrees and snuggled down further into the woolen blanket she had brought along for the short ride to the house of her best friend, Rhammel Melikem, affectionately known as Rhami.

As the car warmed up her eyes began to drift shut. Waking up at 6am was like scratching your eyeballs out or, in other words, sucked ass. But she had had to get ready for her first day back at University, which was crazy since she didn't even attend University. However, he did. So of course waking up extra early to run to the market to buy fresh brown bread, tomatoes, eggs, bangers, bacon and juicy oranges to make the ultimate British fry up, the breakfast of champions, was no trouble at all. Only the best for her boy. The full hamper on the passenger seat filled Rowena with satisfaction, suppressing the memory of her curiously wet eyes and pained whimpers when her alarm went off at 4am.

The reason for the obscene hour was the urgent need to rush back after her market jaunt to start her hair and makeup, which took two hours minimum. No way was she showing up today of all days looking less than perfect. It had taken Rowena three weeks to pick the outfit she was wearing: dark blue jeans that showed off her legs and butt to their full advantage, a plum coloured camisole top and a V-neck forest green sweater that clung to her curves and showed a bit of cleavage without being too revealing. She embodied the phrase 'dress to impress'. After all, this was the first day of the rest of her life.

She had it all planned out how she was going to tell him. He would wake up around 9am and immediately call his grandma to make sure she got to work safely like he always did. He would then roll out of bed and head straight to the bathroom to take a shower and get dressed. That's when she would present herself at his front door, like an angel, ready to make him breakfast whilst he got his things together for his first day back at university. They would sit down to a cozy meal for two chatting about his plans for the day, all the while she would be dropping subtle hints about her big surprise. Then, after a generous offer to drive him to campus, which he'd accept of course (who says no to a free ride?), just when he was about to get out of the car, she would tell him. Rowena's stomach fluttered in excited anticipation. Images of his amazed and wondrous face flitted through her mind. It would be the moment he realised having her by his side was all he ever wanted. Her heart kicked up a notch.

A sly voice (probably her conscience, the bastard) cut through her fantasy, 'You're heart was fluttering earlier today too, and it wasn't for him.' Rowena shifted uncomfortably in her seat. It wasn't my fault, besides that jerk was so bloody annoying. I couldn't help but notice how irritatingly strong his jaw was whilst he was being rude or how infuriatingly muscled he was whilst he was carelessly packing my bags because it made him more annoying, she consoled herself, her mind wandering back to her early morning trip.

She had visited her favourite market, the historical Northampton Market in the centre of town, to procure the best fruit and meat for her breakfast feast. Open at 5am every morning, traders there knew her well. She could usually be found wandering through at about 8am, doing her bi-weekly shop. They liked her because she never argued about price, asked for a receipt for an item less than £5 or requested to pay by card, all three of which were cardinal sins to market stall owners. At least that's why she thought they liked her. Everyone in the market knew her well because she made it a point to chat with all of them, asking them about their stall and their families, trying to draw out whatever gossip she could about the market goings-on. Though she was friendly with everyone there was one particular store she always ended up at,  Auntie Hilda's bread stall 'Home in a Loaf'. Her freshly baked rolls were nectar to the soul and Rowena was a very hungry butterfly.