Go Shopping

With a free morning you decide to head to the local out of town supermarket. This early in the morning it’s not very busy. You can park close, grab a trolley and enter.

First off, the fruit and veg. You look through the loose apples, picking them up, checking them, and dropping them into a plastic bag. It’s awkward because there are others looking at them as well. When you reach to pick up one you catch a small hand instead. You turn to apologise and freeze.

You recognise the owner of the hand. It’s Ellie Jones from the ‘A’ Stream. You hadn’t recognised her outside her school uniform, but staring into those wide brown eyes it’s unmistakable. She’s wearing a baggy t-shirt, a loose-fitting light jumper, and loose jeans. Where she normally has her hair in a ponytail, but she currently has it loose. Her wide eyes, and frozen state, tells you she hadn’t recognised you either.

“Ellie, how are you?” She’s as uncommunicative out of school as she is in it. “You out shopping as well?” She nods. “Go on, you can have that apple.” Her claiming of the apple is tentative. All the time she’s looking at you, nibbling at her bottom lip.

“Ellie, have you got the apples yet?” a voice comes from the side. Rolling up to Ellie is a half-filled shopping cart pushed by a woman, about the same height as Ellie, but older, with darker hair, larger breasts, larger hips. She sees the two looking at each other and wheels protectively to Ellie’s side. “Are you causing trouble?” she asks Ellie as she comes to a halt.

“Oh no, not at all,” you step in, because it’s clear Ellie won’t speak. “You must be Ellie’s sister.” You give her your warmest smile, telling her you know you’re being cliched, but you can’t help yourself.

Her laugh tells you, she understands, and she’s flattered. “No, no, mother. And you are?”

“Mr Smith, Ellie’s history teacher.”

Understanding comes straight to her brown eyes.

“Oh, yes. {if Ellie = 1} Ellie’s mentioned you. {else} I’ve heard about you. {endif} There’s been a lot of chatter about you in the parents’ forum. A young man teaching at St Perpetua’s. And now meeting you, I can see why.”

Is she flirting with you? You don’t know how old she is, must be at least late thirties if she has an 18-year-old daughter, and you think you’ve heard that Ellie has a couple of older sisters, so older than that, but she looks younger. She has an athletic build and clearly keeps herself fit.

“Really, what are they saying?”

“Some of the parents aren’t certain they want a man your age teaching their girls. Not me. You look like an improvement on the previous teacher they had. What was her name, Ellie?”

“Miss Wandering,” Ellie mumbles the name after a long pause. She’s barely taken her eyes off you. Her glances to her mother are pleading, but about what?

“Yes, Miss Wandering. I don’t know there was something about her. You didn’t like her much, did you Ellie?” Ellie doesn’t respond to that. “None of my girls liked her. Well Alya was before her time, and Sofi didn’t have her, but she still wasn’t a fan.” When you look at her confused she has to explain. “Ellie’s sisters. They were at St Perpetua’s before Ellie. Alya did history, but Sofi did languages. Both head girls. Not to be in your case, was it?”

Ellie flinches at the question. Her eyes are deep and ****.

“Ellie has other accomplishments,” you state in her defence. “Ellie is very smart. Probably the smartest girl in my class. I was very impressed by her essay she wrote over the holiday. I’ve read third year undergrad essays that were nowhere near as well written or well researched. She just needs to speak up a bit more. The whole class could learn from her insights.”

“See,” Mrs Jones turns to her daughter. “Everyone tells me, you should speak up more. I’m afraid it comes from having two older sisters, with strong personalities. They had to be strong, because they practically raised Ellie, despite only being a few years older than her. I was out working two, three jobs trying to keep the family out of poverty.”

“There’s no Mr Jones?”

“Ellie’s father died.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“That was eighteen years ago.” When she sees your confusion, she continues. “A couple of months before Ellie was born. Accident at work. Didn’t have time to grieve. I had two daughters, the eldest one not yet four, with another on the way. I had to let my older daughters raise my youngest and look how she turned out.”

“I think that’s a miracle. Ellie’s a great girl. A bit quiet, maybe lacking a bit of confidence, but that’s nothing she can’t overcome if she puts her mind to it. As I said, she’s impressed me.”

You smile at Mrs Jones. You smile at Ellie. Ellie, already blushing, blushes brighter, withdraws deeper into her clothes. She really looks cute blushing and embarrassed.

“Well, I’d better get along shopping. I have a busy day, and I’m sure you two do too. It’s really good to meet you Mrs Jones,”

“Call me Mandy, please.”

“Of course, good to meet you, Mandy.”

You leave the two women at the apples and head deeper into the store. Every so often you spy Mandy and Ellie. Every time one of you spy Mandy, you nod to acknowledge their presence. Every time you spy Ellie, she’s looking at you, with her wide brown eyes. You nod your acknowledgement, but her only response is to blush.

Having shopped, you fill your car and head back home.