"What's your name?" asked the little girl, wiping her snotty nose in her sleeve and peeking up at me through her dirty blonde fringe. Rosie, I said. "What's yours?" JoJo. "Hiya, JoJo. Are you on your holidays from school now?" Yes! she giggled, and then her eyes widened. "How did you know?" I blustered something along the lines of "I just know" and congratulated myself on not sounding Gary Glitter at all. Oh yeah.
JoJo's eyes narrowed. "Are you a stranger?" Um, yes. I paused for a moment, unsure of how to answer her. Hoping to fuck that the tracksuited twentysomething beside her was her da, and that he'd been listening before we got to the accusatory part of the conversation. Trying and failing to catch his eye, I answered her with a red cheeked mumble. "Um, yes." What? she said, forcing me to repeat myself, loudly.
She started edging towards the door, the little wagon.
The previous evening I had stopped off in Aldi on my way home to pick up some wine for a rather maudlin dinner party. The man in front of me at the checkout made some smalltalk while we queued, then waited for me at the packing shelf and asked me on a date. It was very sweet, he looked very nervous and not at all practiced in the art of supermarket sweep-her-off-her-feet. I stood there, mortified, trying to shove a pineapple into my handbag. And then started edging towards the door, a little wagon.
JoJo's eyes narrowed. "Are you a stranger?" Um, yes. I paused for a moment, unsure of how to answer her. Hoping to fuck that the tracksuited twentysomething beside her was her da, and that he'd been listening before we got to the accusatory part of the conversation. Trying and failing to catch his eye, I answered her with a red cheeked mumble. "Um, yes." What? she said, forcing me to repeat myself, loudly.
She started edging towards the door, the little wagon.
The previous evening I had stopped off in Aldi on my way home to pick up some wine for a rather maudlin dinner party. The man in front of me at the checkout made some smalltalk while we queued, then waited for me at the packing shelf and asked me on a date. It was very sweet, he looked very nervous and not at all practiced in the art of supermarket sweep-her-off-her-feet. I stood there, mortified, trying to shove a pineapple into my handbag. And then started edging towards the door, a little wagon.
