Read Online Nobody Loves a Ginger Baby by Laura Marney - Free Book Online
Authors: Laura Marney
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before.
His resentment is momentary, she’s not well, that’s why she’s talking like this. Given the difficulty of the situation Pierce feels justified in doing what he does best. He improvises.
‘Actually, I am seeing a nice girl at the minute.’
Chapter 8
Daphne wonders if there is special rehab for people like her; if there is, she doesn’t want it. Daphne loves Asda, can’t get enough of it. It began a few years ago when she popped in on her way to work. There for the shop opening, the first and only customer, when Radio Asda started up and the familiar theme tune kicked in:
Doo doo doo doo doo
Doo doo doo doo doo
That’s Asda price!
It was then, while the checkout girls fed through their till rolls and the shelf stackers placed a final can of spinach here, a bottle of sauce there, happily, rhythmically, like characters in a Disney film, everyone excitedly preparing for the big event, the big shopping event, that Daphne realised she had a problem. As she walked through the store she had a strong sensation of being a Disneyesque General inspecting the troops. But her Asda addiction is innocuous. Yes, she probably spends too much money there and she definitely spends far too much time, but she’s harming nobody.
She enjoys the whole Asda experience. She enjoys the Greeters and recognises all of them in the stores within a twenty-mile radius around the city. The chirpy old guys on the front door who refuse to retire and are paid simply to engage in petty gossip with anyone who stops: usually other not-so-chirpy oldsters who wish they had a job.
She likes the bag-packers, the local Scout company who are stationed, smart in their uniforms and kilts, at each checkout, packing bags for a small donation. Meanies who won’t donate find that the next time their bag is packed tins are slammed on to eggs and peaches and they carry home a bag of mush.
Daphne is so familiar with Asda she has picked up the lexicon. The vocabulary is tactile and respectful. People who work there are not staff but colleagues . Colleagues do not have a meeting they have a huddle . Money-off stickers are marked whoops! And even more money off is a smile voucher .
A visit to Asda is, for Daphne, a sensual delight. She loves the soapy perfumes of the toiletries, the rich backlit colours of the bubble bath: shelf after shelf of bright rubies, emeralds and sapphires . She loves the feel of the fruit, the rubbery texture of green bananas, the scrape of the yeast on the grapes and the satisfyingly taut skin. Colleagues not only approve, they encourage sampling, and Daphne swallows a juicy grape or slither of ham or sip of cocktail and smiles: mmmm .
The smell from the bakery is irresistible. Daphne has read in the paper that all supermarkets pump the smell of fresh bread into their shops but Daphne sees it not as a cynical marketing ploy but as another complementary service. The smell of fresh bread and doughnuts and cheese scones is a pleasure that cannot, and should not, be denied.
Daphne spends an hour or more in garden furniture, checking and comparing prices and she doesn’t even have a garden. She can lose herself for hours in Asda; it is her hobby, an escape from the college canteen and Carol’s boasting, from her demanding students, from the problem of Donnie.
*
It is the middle of the day; Donnie and Bertha will be at work. There is absolutely no danger that she’ll bump into them; this Asda is on the other side of town. Yet she is terrified.
Daphne never makes a shopping list. She despises people who charge purposefully round the shop crossing off items on their list. Daphne prefers to patrol each and every aisle in order, letting her memory be jogged and her imagination be fired by the goods on display.
She is halfway round the shop and has put nothing in her trolley. She can’t think what she wants; she doesn’t want anything. The light is all wrong. It’s too bright and false. There are no windows, it was
His resentment is momentary, she’s not well, that’s why she’s talking like this. Given the difficulty of the situation Pierce feels justified in doing what he does best. He improvises.
‘Actually, I am seeing a nice girl at the minute.’
Chapter 8
Daphne wonders if there is special rehab for people like her; if there is, she doesn’t want it. Daphne loves Asda, can’t get enough of it. It began a few years ago when she popped in on her way to work. There for the shop opening, the first and only customer, when Radio Asda started up and the familiar theme tune kicked in:
Doo doo doo doo doo
Doo doo doo doo doo
That’s Asda price!
It was then, while the checkout girls fed through their till rolls and the shelf stackers placed a final can of spinach here, a bottle of sauce there, happily, rhythmically, like characters in a Disney film, everyone excitedly preparing for the big event, the big shopping event, that Daphne realised she had a problem. As she walked through the store she had a strong sensation of being a Disneyesque General inspecting the troops. But her Asda addiction is innocuous. Yes, she probably spends too much money there and she definitely spends far too much time, but she’s harming nobody.
She enjoys the whole Asda experience. She enjoys the Greeters and recognises all of them in the stores within a twenty-mile radius around the city. The chirpy old guys on the front door who refuse to retire and are paid simply to engage in petty gossip with anyone who stops: usually other not-so-chirpy oldsters who wish they had a job.
She likes the bag-packers, the local Scout company who are stationed, smart in their uniforms and kilts, at each checkout, packing bags for a small donation. Meanies who won’t donate find that the next time their bag is packed tins are slammed on to eggs and peaches and they carry home a bag of mush.
Daphne is so familiar with Asda she has picked up the lexicon. The vocabulary is tactile and respectful. People who work there are not staff but colleagues . Colleagues do not have a meeting they have a huddle . Money-off stickers are marked whoops! And even more money off is a smile voucher .
A visit to Asda is, for Daphne, a sensual delight. She loves the soapy perfumes of the toiletries, the rich backlit colours of the bubble bath: shelf after shelf of bright rubies, emeralds and sapphires . She loves the feel of the fruit, the rubbery texture of green bananas, the scrape of the yeast on the grapes and the satisfyingly taut skin. Colleagues not only approve, they encourage sampling, and Daphne swallows a juicy grape or slither of ham or sip of cocktail and smiles: mmmm .
The smell from the bakery is irresistible. Daphne has read in the paper that all supermarkets pump the smell of fresh bread into their shops but Daphne sees it not as a cynical marketing ploy but as another complementary service. The smell of fresh bread and doughnuts and cheese scones is a pleasure that cannot, and should not, be denied.
Daphne spends an hour or more in garden furniture, checking and comparing prices and she doesn’t even have a garden. She can lose herself for hours in Asda; it is her hobby, an escape from the college canteen and Carol’s boasting, from her demanding students, from the problem of Donnie.
*
It is the middle of the day; Donnie and Bertha will be at work. There is absolutely no danger that she’ll bump into them; this Asda is on the other side of town. Yet she is terrified.
Daphne never makes a shopping list. She despises people who charge purposefully round the shop crossing off items on their list. Daphne prefers to patrol each and every aisle in order, letting her memory be jogged and her imagination be fired by the goods on display.
She is halfway round the shop and has put nothing in her trolley. She can’t think what she wants; she doesn’t want anything. The light is all wrong. It’s too bright and false. There are no windows, it was
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