A wry smile flickers across Alan’s face. His arms folded, pressed against his store-issued fleece.
‘Martin…pssst Martin’ he hisses.
Martin, crouching by the vegetable aisle, looks up to see Alan gesturing wildly at him to come over.
‘What is it?’
‘Shhh…’ smiles Alan, ‘listen, that old lady over there…she’s chatting with the self-service machine.’
‘She bloody is too…’ smirks Martin.
I know they’re talking about me. Those boys over there. That’s ok though. They can’t see you, can’t hear you like I can.
I’ll keep coming though.
Until we’re back together again.