Homeward Bound

Homeward Bound Chapter 8

My great escape led me to town with only my purse in my coat pocket. I felt slightly relieved I had not placed my purse back into my handbag, for otherwise I would have had to have settled for window shopping. With my last encounter with Matthew the grocer in mind, I thought that I would pay him another visit.

'Lovely morning is it not?' was the first thing I said as I entered the shop only to realise that I was the only one in the shop.

I felt a little stupid to be talking to myself. There was a bell on the counter which I pressed. It rang out in the shop as Matthew strolled into shop like a sloth from what I assumed was the backroom. He grinned like an idiot when he spotted me. He looked just as yummy as had the day before.

Picking up the nearest vegetable which had happen to be some carrots I waved them at him.

'I'd like these carrots please.' I placed them on the counter and I watched as he skilfully weighed and packaged them in a brown paper bag. I thought that this was very good for the environment as plastic seemed to be overtaking the world. The poor dolphins...

'What brought you down to this part of the country,' I questioned having no idea why he had thought of moving to a sleepy town where all that happened where gossiping hags. Or as I had been told people being run over by buggy's and in my case death trap scooters. I had leapt at the chance to leave this town the moment I was of a legal age like several hounds were after me.

'My mum remarried to a local bloke and I followed her up here.'

'Hmm...' I uttered while trying to figure out how I could get more information out of him without making it seem like I was fishing. He hadn't seemed to take the bait.

'Say you want to go out on a date somewhere?' Surprised with his forwardness I nodded taking Danielle's advice about moving on from Devon even if it was just baby steps like getting to know this man. 'I'll ring you later then,' he offered

I didn't bother to ask how he would get my number because I knew that the standard procedure for this town was to ask someone who would ask another and so forth.

I backed out of the shop smiling with happiness before almost having my foot taken off by another granny trolly. I thought that I had escaped from mum's trolley only to meet with another one.

'Cara, Lovely to see you.' A posh voice interrupted my musings.

A woman stood with the said trolley. She was wearing a knitted cardigan that I thought she probably had made herself and had short grey hair.

'Sorry,' I muttered, thinking I best show I could be nice.

'Pleasure to make your acquaintance. I'm Margo Brockhurst,' she stated proudly causing me to snort which I then tried to cover with a cough.

'Err... Nice to meet you,' I stated not meaning a single word I had just said, my once irritable mood returning.

'We must have tea,' she insisted in a bossy way, then preceded to frog-march me to the brown cow café, arm slid skilfully into mine, her trolley trailing after us. For an old lady she sure as hell could move fast. I couldn't even get a word in edgeways to protest the rough handling. Having no choice but to go along with her I sat at a table two and ordered a hot chocolate. I felt like I was going to need it.

'The staff here are ever so good,' she gushed singing their praises.

Not bothering to give her condolences for dad's death she ploughed straight in with the interrogation. It felt like the Spanish inquisition.

'I heard you were working as a fashion designer.'

'Well yes.' I spluttered at her straightforwardness.