Page 60 of How We Began

And that’s how I found myself in the hell that is Asda on a Sunday with Ben. We’d never been food shopping together before. I’m not sure we ever will again.

As a rule, men and women have evolved to do most things reasonably well together. You know, sex and such. However, food shopping is not one of them.

Any woman, whether she loves or hates shopping, will quite happily read the label of every can in sight. I don’t even cook and I read them.

Men like to get what they came for and leave.

Asda was packed. It took us twenty minutes of frantic circling just to get a parking space, even when we did find one, we ended up in a tournament style joust to get to it before a woman in a Volvo 4x4 stole it.

Ben’s post-coital glow had evaporated and he was glaring at anyone who brought their trolley within five inches of ours. I thought the two ten-year-olds playing dodgems were going to get it.

Even we, who were living our ‘let’s pretend this is a real lovey-dovey day’, were starting to show the strain. So many people, everyone ducking and diving under the arms of others reaching for high shelves. Asda has no personal space rules.

“Red or white wine?” he asked, and a vein I hadn’t been introduced to before started to thump on the surface of his skin in his throat.

“Whatever you prefer, I probably won’t drink much.”

“Well, still, red or white?”

“What are we having, fish or meat?”

“Meat.”

“Then red.”

“But you prefer white, don’t you?”

“For Christ’s sake, just put both in.”

“Well I’m not going to if you aren’t drinking.”

“Okay. I’ll drink. Are you happy now? I’ll drink and be fat.”

This was how it went until we got to the till and paid nearly seventy quid for what appeared to be the makings of one meal.

We then spent another five minutes trying to jam the bags of shopping into Deathtrap Cooper, and then sat for another twenty minutes attempting to get back onto the A3.

“Wasn’t it lovely that Sheila is going to Morocco on holiday, what with her husband leaving her… Such a nightmare.”

“Who’s Sheila?”

“You know, the lady on the checkout. Poor thing, she’s had it hard.”

I received a grumpy look from Mr Chambers.

What a nightmare. Asda had effectively eaten two hours into our day together.

Two hours? What the hell happened?

Of course, Asda could only be the start. It couldn’t stop there.

We were unpacking our shopping, I wasn’t even bothering to look at what we’d purchased on our little joint shopping trip. It is not like I’d know what to do with any of it anyway. I think my little Christmas feast proved that I’m completely useless in the kitchen unless it involves opening a bottle of wine.

So instead I hindered the unpacking by deciding to hug Ben from behind, so I was walking behind him like a large backpack. He was chuckling though, and the trauma of Asda seemed to be fading into the distance.

When the front door to the dorm banged open, I didn’t bother to relinquish my hold on him. We were stepping in time towards the fridge, Ben laughing as I held him back when Meredith sloped in, saying,

“Hey, guys.” She was wearing give-away dark sunglasses to shield her hangover. Rolling her eyes at my unrelenting hold on Ben, she leant over to him, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and handed him a card. “Happy birthday. I’d give you hug but it seems you’re wearing a Lilah sized sweater.”