Starting from Scratch

The supermarket was crowded with Friday night shoppers. Cynthia had always done her weekly shop on Tuesday mornings, believing that was when the food was freshest, after the weekend rush and the Monday leftovers.

Cynthia couldn't help noticing all the men in suits holding little  baskets and studying the ready prepared meals on display.

She fought back the urge to call out and invite them all round to her house and watch them tuck in to one of her famous casseroles with baked potatoes followed by a choice of desserts. Her mother had constantly repeated that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach and Cynthia had believed her. It had worked for her father. It hadn't worked with Max though. After years and years of wolfing down Cynthia's roast dinners, casseroles, fish pies, pork pies, Coronation chicken just to name a few, it turned out that the way to his heart followed a trail of short skirts and boob tubes.
At least he'd waited until their daughter Louise had finished uni and got a job. At first she'd been very upset and angry, telling her parents her whole childhood seemed a lie.
Lately she had become very philosophical about it, she'd taken a course about mindfulness, linked to her psychology degree.

Last week Louise had come round with a bottle of Prosecco and sat Cynthia down in the garden. She looked her mother in the eyes and clinked her glass.

'Mum I love you and dad very much and you've been great parents, but maybe you weren't bringing out the best in each other. Maybe there is a whole new world for you out there.'

It still hurt so much, the memory of that day when Max had told her about Mandy being the one. Cynthia had always thought she was the one. Looking back she could see that Louise had a point and the signs had been there all along.

She sighed and pushed on the trolley with her hips, one after the other, just like the Belly dancer teacher, Mina, had demonstrated..
She felt ridiculous and hoped nobody had noticed her attempt at a shimmy. The belly dance lessons were a gift from Louise along with a Thai cooking course.
 It was an attempt to try and give her back her confidence, get to know her body and bring to life the inner creative woman within, to urge her to broaden her horizons.
Cynthia felt her heart swell with love for her daughter, somehow she seemed more like a mother at the moment, their roles had crossed over.

She glanced up at her reflection in the mirror above the yoghurts. Mina had told her to walk with her head held high, her shoulders pulled up and back and to move her legs from the hips. Cynthia looked around to make sure nobody was watching and tried doing the Camel, a move that Mina said would awaken the female creative side. She giggled to herself as she swayed and shimmied against the handle of the trolley. She began to think that English women had a rough deal with all that Morris Dancing they were taught at school. She added some fresh herbs to her trolley and some garlic.
She moved over to the fish counter. Louise was coming for dinner on her way home from work and Cynthia wanted to impress her with a new recipe for Thai Prawn curry.
She ticked off the ingredients from her list, garlic, chilies, limes, coconut milk, limes. Barbara, the teacher had told them that the art of Thai cooking is about combining ingredients at the opposite end of the flavour spectrum and balancing them to create vibrantly flavoured food. the idea was to aim for an explosion of salty, sweet, sour and spicy flavours that sparkle with personality yet harmonize on the plate. Cynthia had written it all down in her notebook and thinking about it now it seemed like a recipe for marriage, or life, or just about anything.

 A voice behind her made her jump.

'Excuse me, are you Louise's mother?',

Cynthia looked up into the most handsome, kind face she had ever seen. He had the warmest brown eyes, just like his voice. She realized she was gaping at him, her voice came out in a croak,

'Yes, I am.'

He held out his hand and smiled, his eyes crinkling with humour and charm,

'Sorry if I startled you. It's just that you look so alike. The same beautiful red hair and green eyes and….'

He reddened and seemed to hesitate,

'Anyway I'm Tom Harding, I met Louise at the estate agents in the High Street. I've come here to work on the new Football Stadium and was looking for a place to rent. She just happened to be in there waiting for her dad and his girlfriend..'

His voice trailed off and he looked awkward

Cynthia took his outstretched hand and smiled back.

'Pleased to meet you and good luck with the stadium, it's a bit of a bone of contention around here. Louise has been campaigning to get it blocked. The old stadium was surrounded by houses and pubs and brought the whole community together, everyone is afraid that the new stadium will be too expensive and too faraway for the youngsters and will break up the community spirit.'

Tom held up his hand,

'Now that's just where I come in, I've been employed to make sure that doesn't happen.
There's going to be new bars, playgrounds and all sorts of events to make it a place for families as well as football fans and we're going to make the old stadium into a sports ground for the local schools. You can tell Louise not to worry at all.'

Someone knocked against him and he tripped, the contents of his basket spilling on to the floor. Cynthia knelt down to help him pick them up. There was a ready washed salad and a ready-prepared Thai curry.  A lightness came over her, a feeling of excitement and anticipation that she hadn't had for years. It must be a sign. She smiled up at him and pointed to the contents of her trolley.

'What a coincidence, I'm making a Thai curry this evening. Dinner date with my daughter, would you like to come too and then you can tell her yourself?'

The eagerness with which Tom accepted told her she hadn't been wrong, he just seemed perfect for Louise.