To Be Someone by Louise Voss

Author:Louise Voss
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780345464293
Publisher: Ballantine Books
Published: 2001-04-12T22:00:00+00:00

NOT SUCH A COINCIDENCE

HOW DID PEOPLE WHO LOST LIFELONG SPOUSES HANDLE THE PAIN? Sam had “only” been a friend, not a lover or partner, but I couldn’t cope with knowing that I’d never see her again. As I sat at the kitchen table staring glumly into the middle distance, something inside my stomach snarled at me, loudly enough to be heard above the moaning of my depression and the dolorous bass of “Shipbuilding.” After a moment’s consideration I realized, with some surprise, that it was hunger.

Suddenly I knew that I had to get out of the house and get some food. I was absolutely, overwhelmingly ravenous. If I stayed indoors for even one minute longer, I would start gnawing the kitchen counters.

Mum had stocked up for me before she went home, but now the freezer was empty except for half a packet of broad beans. I was down to chocolate spread and capers in the cupboard, and my fruit bowl contained four shriveled grapes and a fossilized lime. I’d been living on noodle soup for the past four days, and I was craving fresh juice, hot bread, colorful salads.

I usually got Sainsburys to home-deliver my groceries, but such was my frame of mind that I hadn’t been able to face the hassle of trying to order over the telephone, let alone exchange small talk with a delivery man. My snap decision to get in the car and go there myself was probably borne from a combination of physical need and mental exhaustion—I needed food, quickly, and I needed to do something to take my mind off my terrible sense of loss.

My daring plan to venture into the outside world filled me with a sudden sense of wild recklessness. Donning shades and a floppy sun hat, I picked up the car keys and left the house, glancing constantly around me as I locked up and got in the car. Still no sign of the stalker, thank God.

I drove to Sainsburys with the roof open and a fresh summer wind flapping the brim of my sun hat, congratulating myself on my positive decision, and beginning to feel a tiny bit less miserable. It was fantastic to be back behind the wheel of my car after so long.

Everything was going much better than expected—until I reached the supermarket. I hadn’t realized it was Saturday. The car park was full to capacity, and row upon row of hot metal chassis glinted at me, taunting me with the knowledge that each car equaled one or more people banging up and down the aisles inside. If I went in, I’d be face-to-face with them all. There would be no security men or velvet ropes or limos to keep us apart, not even the soundproofed cocoon of a DJ’s studio and the coziness of headphones. Just me and the great, ordinary unwashed.

I drove right around the perimeter of the car park and straight out onto the road again, just about managing to avoid a huge wobbly line of pushed-together trolleys being coraled into a pen by two bored employees.

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