Read Online The Bluebird Café by Rebecca Smith - Free Book Online Page A

nipping to Vir and Vir for some Felix,’ said Lucy.
    â€˜OK.’
    John Vir was alone in the shop. He was bent over a huge box of packets of nuts. Lucy saw the Cash and Carry price on the outside.
    â€˜Wow! Where’d you get it that cheap?’
    â€˜Cash and Carry, near Basingstoke.’
    â€˜That’s loads cheaper than the Wholefood Co-op we use.’
    â€˜Well, it would be, wouldn’t it?’ said John Vir.
    â€˜I don’t use cashew nuts much because of the prices.’
    â€˜Oh, this one’s good. Cheap prices. They have pistachios, peanuts, spices, everything. You give me a list if you like …’ he offered.
    â€˜It sounds wonderful. But I don’t want to put you to any trouble. You don’t have a price list or anything, do you?’
    â€˜You could get your rice and yoghurt there too. Why not come with me and see yourself?’ he said.
    â€˜That would be lovely,’ Lucy said. ‘I mean, very useful for the café. Paul will be pleased.’
    â€˜I’m going on Wednesday. How about four?’
    She walked back to the Bluebird with a can of Felix in each hand.
    â€˜Paul,’ she said, ‘I’m going up to this really cheap, interesting Cash and Carry with the people from Vir’s. Cheap nuts, rice, loads of things. Isn’t that nice of them?’
    â€˜Yeah. Did you get any samosas?’
    â€˜Just catfood.’
    John Vir called for Lucy at exactly four o’clock. She had been about to walk round to the shop to see if he had remembered their arrangement, when suddenly he was there in the doorway. His van, a strange, dolphinish-green, was parked outside.
    â€˜Oh God,’ she thought, ‘I can’t think of anything to say.’ She wished that she’d listed a few conversational topics on her cuff for easy reference. Then there she was, sliding on to the leatherette seat, belted in next to him, and his van was lumbering up The Avenue, the A33, towards the motorway. Lucy loved The Avenue, it was so impressively tree-lined and the views of Southampton Common were beautiful. She loved walking up it, driving up it, riding up it in a van. It made her think of Judy Garland dressed as a tramp with a smudge on her nose, a broken hat, and a blacked-out tooth. She could remember all the words. It had been her moment of glory as a Young Stager, singing ‘We’re a Couple of Swells’ with her friend Sally, before some blonde Miss Piggy ballet-type had danced to ‘Evergreen’.
    â€˜What are you humming?’ asked John Vir.
    â€˜Was I?’ Lucy had thought the song was just playing in her head. Now she was embarrassed. ‘Can we have the radio on?’
    He switched it on. It crackled. Lucy hated trying to tune in other people’s car radios. It was impossible. John Vir found Radio Solent.
    â€˜And in
Scene South
today we have a special report on Southampton’s Fluoridation Debate.’
    â€˜Oh, honestly,’ said Lucy.
    â€˜Blah blah blah,’ said John. He twisted the dial and the van was filled with music and sunlight. It was ‘Natural Woman’. Lucy had to stare out the window in embarrassment. The light from the sun streamed through the clouds in golden shafts. As a child Lucy had thought that these were the ladders for dead people to go up to heaven, and for the angels to come down to earth. The road glistened ahead of them. John Vir pulled down his sun-shield, dazzled.
    â€˜So what are you looking for?’ he asked.
    â€˜Oh God, well,’ said Lucy, thinking that he meant in life.
    â€˜I get the same stuff every week. Customers just want the same. Crisps, nuts, spices, flour, oils.’
    They waltzed around the Cash and Carry together, loading their trolleys. When Lucy reached the checkout she realised that she was spending much more than she’d planned; but John Vir’s bill was five times the size of hers. She fumbled in her bag for more money,