Chapter 3: Shopping For Coffee

The following week they met again, apparently by chance.

“We really can’t go on meeting like this,” he said, smiling, “People will start talking about us.”

She returned his smile and offered, “Well, when they are talking about us, they won’t be talking about anyone else, now will they?”

“I know. Let’s make it obvious. Come and have a cup of coffee with me, please,” he asked.

“Erm, well, where exactly?” she seemed very doubtful.

He decided it was time to see how submissive she was. “Here, where everyone can see us of course. No sneaking off to a quiet café for us,” and he took her elbow to steer her to the cafeteria at the end of the store.

“But I haven’t paid for my groceries,” she objected.

“We can do that on the way. No backing out now you’ve agreed. I hate drinking alone, even just coffee.”

This confused her, as she didn’t remember agreeing to anything, but she didn’t want to make a scene, and after all, what harm could there be, right there in the supermarket where everyone could see? He did seem a nice man and had listened very carefully to her advice about the fish the previous week.

When they got to the checkout she didn’t quite understand how, but her basket and his trolley ended up on the same bill which he paid. When she protested he waved her protests away saying, “You gave me good advice last week, and I’ll let you pay for the coffees if it will ease your conscience.”

“But...” she started to protest but once again her dread of attracting attention came to his rescue and she subsided.

Once he had collected their coffees, and toasted teacakes at his insistence, again somehow he had paid for them.

“Now you really should let me pay what I owe you,” she said as they sat down.

Ignoring this remark he declared, “Now we haven’t really been introduced, so here goes. I am David Ransome and I work in an office on the Honeybourne Trading Estate. I live in Stapleford in a house far too big for me. My wife died some two years ago and I have two adult sons, neither of whom lives with me.”

Clearly he was waiting for her to respond so she felt obliged to say, “I’m Wendy Parfitt and I live on the Greenacres Estate with my husband. We have no children.”

He thought Nothing ventured, nothing gained, and decided to risk it, “Is that basket of tiny portions enough for the two of you? Or is your hubby on a special diet?”

“He is working away at the moment,” and she suddenly started to sob quietly.

Putting on his most sympathetic manner, after a moment or two he asked quietly, “What’s wrong? Can you tell me about it?”

This brought a further flow of tears and she shook her head. “I’d rather not,” she said.

“Well, drink up and bring your teacake. I’ll drive you home as I really should be going to work now and I go past your estate on the way.”

Trying to recover some element of control in this conversation, as they sat in the car Wendy asked, “Yes. Why aren’t you at work now? Where do you work anyway, and what do you do?”

“I work in Stapleford Secure Systems and I don’t have to do much, mostly boring meetings and drink coffee. We work flexi-time and I have loads of time built up. I often work late and some mornings I go in very early. Our core time is only eleven in the morning until two in the afternoon, and even then I only have to switch my mobile on if I want a break and don’t have a meeting scheduled. The hours are designed to suit those with children at school.”

“Government contracts I suppose?”

“Yes. Mostly.”

Pulling up in a lay-by at the entrance to her estate he asked again, “Do you want to talk about your problem? I promise not to laugh at you, or your thoughts.”

“No, not now,” she said, “Thank you for the shopping and the coffee. You shouldn’t have paid for any of mine.”

“That’s OK. Aren’t you going to offer to pay for the cold toasted teacake?” and he was pleased to see that raise a tiny smile on her face. “Now just go and take your groceries and teacake with you. I won’t deliver you to your door because you might have nosy neighbours and it would set the curtains twitching.”

As Wendy got out of the car she smiled at him and gave a little wave as he drove off.