You know that scene from '28 Days Later' when Cillian Murphy first sets foot out of the hospital and onto the deserted streets of London? It came to mind as I ventured into The World.
It was an absolutely beautiful Sunday morning but somehow kind of eerie too. Every curtain and blind of the neighbouring houses was closed. No human sounds came from behind them. There was just birdsong. That was it. As I drove through the surrounding streets, I didn't pass a soul. All that was missing from the dystopian scene were a few upturned cars and a pack of feral dogs, scavenging around the place.
As I neared the retail park, this began to change and there were clear signs of life. The supermarket experience itself, although weird, was much less daunting than the last time that I was there. They seemed to have developed and settled into an efficient routine. How quickly everyone seemed to have adapted to this strange, new state of affairs. Having not ventured into the actual World for quite some time, I was struck by how many more people now seemed to be wearing face masks. A few shoppers were actually rocking this new look. There were dainty floral prints, skull and crossbones (maybe somewhat inappropriate) and even masks with big pouty red lips printed onto them. It occurred to me that if I was to acquire one of these, I would only have to apply makeup to the top half of my face. At £25 a pop for a bottle of my foundation and another £20 per lipstick, that would be quite a saving!
I went about my business as efficiently as I could, keeping June's bits and pieces separate from mine. I'm slightly ashamed to admit that when I saw the packets of hair dye on the shelves the rush of relief that I felt, almost moved me to tears. My relief was short-lived however, when I saw the gaps in the stock. It became clear very quickly that I was going to have to improvise. I threw a selection of shades into the trolley. Surely one of them would suffice. After all, anything had to be better than grey. I became almost giddy when I got to the confectionary. Since Lockdown I felt totally justified in throwing a number of extra large versions and multipacks of goodies into my trolley as it made complete sense that we shouldn't be dashing out to buy bars of chocolate willy-nilly. And didn't the poor kids deserve a few treats now and again?
I was just making a selection from the leftover Easter eggs, marvelling at the bargains to be had (if only John had made it here on his ill-fated Easter shopping trip) when an almighty row broke my concentration. It was very worrying that in this social climate, there were people who had no control over their kids and still insisted on bringing them into the public domain. Two small children came careering around the corner of my aisle like demented little Tasmanian devils, their tiny hands pawing at any shelves within their reach. Several bags of Jelly Babies and Raspberry Bonbons flew across the floor. There was no parent in sight. It really was disgraceful that anyone should allow their offspring to run around unattended. Thank God John wasn't here as he'd track down their parents and give them a right lecture about how their children were a public health threat.
One of the little creatures must have spotted me looking their way because it stopped its pawing very suddenly. Its eyes flashed and it let out a horrible high-pitched sound before running towards me, arms outstretched. Dear God! The scene from the zombie apocalypse movie was complete. I don't know if it was the fear of infection or the way that this creature came towards me - so unpredictable and wild - but my reflexes were fast. Instinct made me dodge out of its path, bumping my arm painfully against the shelf of Turkish Delight. The little gremlin kept blindly running until it hit the bakery counter at the very bottom end of the aisle, headbutting a large, farmhouse loaf. It was only when the hysterics started that its accompanying adult ambled into view - bloody Rosie!
"How was I supposed to know it was Sam?" I said, once outside in the car park.
"Well that says it all, doesn't it? You see my kids so seldomly that you don't bloody recognise them! In fact Daisy, I'm starting to think that you have some sort of problem with them.""Rubbish! I didn't have my glasses AND I was trying to concentrate on my shopping."
"How nice for you that you can have a lovely, leisurely Sunday morning browse around the supermarket without your kids. I suppose John's looking after them. It's alright for some!"
"What are you talking about? You have a husband too. You do still have one, don't you? Only I lose track!"
"You can't bloody resist, can you? I've only been married three times, you know Daisy. You don't need to keep reminding me. And you know that Dwayne needs to catch up on his sleep on a Sunday morning. I can't expect him to look after the kids."
"He was still asleep last week when we were on Zoom and it was lunchtime! Anyway Rosie, family groups shouldn't be messing about in supermarkets at the moment. It's irresponsible. It endangers everyone, you know! You can't have your kids charging at people from other households, even if they are related. If Dwayne can't get out of bed, you'll have to shop at a different time, won't you? By the way, don't forget it's Dad's birthday on Friday."
"Oh yeah. About that …… you couldn't lend me fifty quid, could you?"
I looked at the bottle of premium gin sticking out of the top of her shopping bag and felt my jaw clench. "I'll pay it into your account when I get home."
I'd done well to dodge Sammy but would I be able to dodge John's questions when I got in, I wondered as I turned into our cul-de-sac. He would surely ask how much I'd spent and I really thought it best that this information was kept between myself and my credit card company. Also, the little handouts to Rosie were starting to add up, so that subject was best avoided. I'd have to skirt around a few matters, I decided, as I pulled onto the drive and braced myself for my inevitable anti-bacterial hose-down.😬
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