March 2012
Mr Patel gazed mournfully out of the shop window. He could see nearly all of Victor Road from here, although the early mist made it more difficult this morning.
He saw an anoraked figure emerge from the mist and watched his steady progress until the shop bell rang as Ed, the paper boy, entered.
He managed a few adolescent grunts in response to Mr Patel's instructions. Weighed down with the world's troubles, Ed trudged out to start his round.
She hadn't been in for a week. Mr Patel couldn't understand it; he missed her daily visit. Her hair was red and it curled up around her shoulders. Sometimes she wore it up and he liked the way wisps of hair escaped. With immense self-control, he stopped himself touching it.
He tortured himself by wondering if she had met someone and had moved away without telling him. He shuddered and told himself he was getting things out of proportion.
Someone was approaching . . . definitely female. His heart started hammering in his chest . . . black hair, his spirits dropped.
'Good morning, Mrs Williams, the Mail?'
'Yes, duck, and a pint of milk, please. Reg is like 'Raging Bull' without his tea.'
Mr Patel went to the fridge.
'You look a bit rum today, you need to get out more. I know it was hard to lose your missus, but two years is a long time.'
He handed over the goods with a weak smile.
All was quiet again. He sat, hunched, behind the counter, tears in his eyes. He straightened up with the sound of the bell, composing himself hurriedly.
His eyes widened, there she was, like a wonderful dream. Her halo of hair framing that dear, freckled face.
'Hello, Vik, sorry I haven't been in, I've had a bug and felt dreadful all week. I still feel a bit wobbly, but I couldn't bear not to see you, er, I mean, I really missed our chats . . . Oh and I think I've won the lottery, I could be mistaken, I was feeling rough.'
She handed Mr Patel the ticket. While he was checking it, she noticed that he was paler than usual. Had he been crying? Her heart lurched and she took some deep breaths.
His sad brown eyes looked into hers, 'I'm sorry, Rose, no luck this time, but I - I wondered if you'd like to go to the pictures with me?'
He felt himself getting hotter, he could hardly breathe. What had possessed him to say such a thing, he was being ridiculous. Now he would never see her again.
Her smile lit up her whole face, 'Vik, I feel like I've won the lottery. The answer's yes.'