then. Let's get out of here.'
Further down, the thin figure of a man flashed across their aisle.
'Shit! That was Maudsley.' Clare glanced into the shopping trolley. She grabbed the jar of coffee and handed it back to her friend. 'Swap that for something Fair Trade!'
'You what?' asked Zoe with surprise.
'I'm not risking Maudsley finding me buying Nestlé products. ‘No way.'
Her friend started laughing. Then she held her hand over her head and started revolving her forefinger round and round. 'Whooo! Whooo! Attention, thought-police! Attention, thought-police!'
'Oh Jesus,' said Clare. 'Look, just keep clear until we're out of here will you? I don't need you taking the piss.'
Zoe replied in a mock-German accent, 'Ya, ya, I will be waiting for you at ze checkout.'
She walked away chuckling and shaking her head.
Round the corner Eric was standing with his back to her by the freezer section.
'Oh, hi Professor. Getting in a few essentials?' said Clare brightly.
The man turned around. 'Evening Clare. Yes, just a few bits and bobs.' He opened the lid of the freezer cabinet, picked out a couple of vegetarian pizzas and began examining the labels on the side of the box.
From the next one Clare lifted out a sack of Quorn and placed it on the top of her shopping. 'See you around then,' she smiled, noting him glance at the items in her trolley.
She caught up with her friend at the checkout. Conspiratorially Zoe showed her the top of Gold Blend jar in her shopping bag. 'It's OK, I bought it whilst you were flashing him your oh-so-innocent smile.'
After they'd packed their food into bags Clare said, 'I'll let you do the honours then, while I carry this lot to your car.'
Zoe handed her cash card to the woman behind the till; as she waited for it to be approved Clare set off for the exit.
From the shop's depths Eric waited until he saw his student heading out through the doors. Then he made his way back to the freezer section, swapped his vegetarian pizzas for meat feasts and made his way to the tills himself.
Like an automaton he began placing all his items on the motionless conveyor belt. The woman in front of him collected her receipt and the expanse of black rubber began moving forwards, carrying his purchases towards the cashier.
'Oh hello Mr Maudsley.'
He looked up at the middle-aged woman.
When his face registered no recognition she said, 'It's Edith's daughter - Rosemary?'
She tapped the name tag on her tunic, 'Rosemary Davis - you used to look after my mum. Before you started lecturing full-time. I'm sorry,' she checked herself, 'it's Professor Maudsley now, isn't it?'
Finally the information connected in Eric's head. 'Oh don't worry about that. Sorry, I didn't recognise you straight away, it's just that I haven't seen you working here before.'
'I only started a few days ago. My other supermarket closed down and they were looking for staff here.'
'I see,' said Eric. 'And Edith - how is she nowadays?'
He could instantly see that it was a struggle to maintain her smile. 'Not so bad, I suppose. She's still in that council flat. The same one you used to visit her in. Five Pilkington Court?'
'Yes, I remember,' replied Eric.
'I'm trying to get her a full-time place in a nursing home - but it's just so hard finding her a bed, even with her angina getting worse and worse. Her doctor had to increase her medication again only the other day. The health visitor calls in once or twice a week - often to put her on a nutrition drip. It's very difficult getting her to eat anything. And I see her whenever I can. But it's hard finding time, you know, with the kids to look after and working as well ...’
‘How is her mobility nowadays?' he asked, removing his reusable shopping bag from his pocket.
She stopped passing bar codes across the red beam. 'Oh, she's been in a wheelchair for some time now. She can just about get out of it and into her bed. And the toilet - they've put special bars in so she can still go on her
Further down, the thin figure of a man flashed across their aisle.
'Shit! That was Maudsley.' Clare glanced into the shopping trolley. She grabbed the jar of coffee and handed it back to her friend. 'Swap that for something Fair Trade!'
'You what?' asked Zoe with surprise.
'I'm not risking Maudsley finding me buying Nestlé products. ‘No way.'
Her friend started laughing. Then she held her hand over her head and started revolving her forefinger round and round. 'Whooo! Whooo! Attention, thought-police! Attention, thought-police!'
'Oh Jesus,' said Clare. 'Look, just keep clear until we're out of here will you? I don't need you taking the piss.'
Zoe replied in a mock-German accent, 'Ya, ya, I will be waiting for you at ze checkout.'
She walked away chuckling and shaking her head.
Round the corner Eric was standing with his back to her by the freezer section.
'Oh, hi Professor. Getting in a few essentials?' said Clare brightly.
The man turned around. 'Evening Clare. Yes, just a few bits and bobs.' He opened the lid of the freezer cabinet, picked out a couple of vegetarian pizzas and began examining the labels on the side of the box.
From the next one Clare lifted out a sack of Quorn and placed it on the top of her shopping. 'See you around then,' she smiled, noting him glance at the items in her trolley.
She caught up with her friend at the checkout. Conspiratorially Zoe showed her the top of Gold Blend jar in her shopping bag. 'It's OK, I bought it whilst you were flashing him your oh-so-innocent smile.'
After they'd packed their food into bags Clare said, 'I'll let you do the honours then, while I carry this lot to your car.'
Zoe handed her cash card to the woman behind the till; as she waited for it to be approved Clare set off for the exit.
From the shop's depths Eric waited until he saw his student heading out through the doors. Then he made his way back to the freezer section, swapped his vegetarian pizzas for meat feasts and made his way to the tills himself.
Like an automaton he began placing all his items on the motionless conveyor belt. The woman in front of him collected her receipt and the expanse of black rubber began moving forwards, carrying his purchases towards the cashier.
'Oh hello Mr Maudsley.'
He looked up at the middle-aged woman.
When his face registered no recognition she said, 'It's Edith's daughter - Rosemary?'
She tapped the name tag on her tunic, 'Rosemary Davis - you used to look after my mum. Before you started lecturing full-time. I'm sorry,' she checked herself, 'it's Professor Maudsley now, isn't it?'
Finally the information connected in Eric's head. 'Oh don't worry about that. Sorry, I didn't recognise you straight away, it's just that I haven't seen you working here before.'
'I only started a few days ago. My other supermarket closed down and they were looking for staff here.'
'I see,' said Eric. 'And Edith - how is she nowadays?'
He could instantly see that it was a struggle to maintain her smile. 'Not so bad, I suppose. She's still in that council flat. The same one you used to visit her in. Five Pilkington Court?'
'Yes, I remember,' replied Eric.
'I'm trying to get her a full-time place in a nursing home - but it's just so hard finding her a bed, even with her angina getting worse and worse. Her doctor had to increase her medication again only the other day. The health visitor calls in once or twice a week - often to put her on a nutrition drip. It's very difficult getting her to eat anything. And I see her whenever I can. But it's hard finding time, you know, with the kids to look after and working as well ...’
‘How is her mobility nowadays?' he asked, removing his reusable shopping bag from his pocket.
She stopped passing bar codes across the red beam. 'Oh, she's been in a wheelchair for some time now. She can just about get out of it and into her bed. And the toilet - they've put special bars in so she can still go on her
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