Two boys in tow and clearly not a thought in her head, Mrs K powering down the high street on her Dawes Discovery. William the Younger yells, “Faster, Mum!” to no avail, and his brother shouts, “Get a move on, you two,” gleeful in the unexpected swell of sudden spring sunshine. The pharmacy and Greggs and the spectacles shop whiz by as they pedal toward the intersection.
Mrs K slows down, eventually, on the approach to their destination, the pint-sized supermarket everyone seems to patronize these days, where she shops for groceries at incomprehensible times of the day, half in panic, half in fear. Fear of what? Empty shelves? The abrupt end of cut-price bargains? Eye-watering long queues?
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