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Camy

Car Park III

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This one is thanks to Trab's comment on Car Park II

It's Celia's point of view.

Again it's unedited, and as it's a bit longer, it probably shows more.

Car Par III by Camy

As we turned into aisle 4 I was busy thanking the god of shopping that David hadn’t pitched a hissy fit. The weekly shop was normally Sean’s and my exclusive territory, but for once David had deigned to leave his computer, saying something about ‘responsibilities’. I’d laughed.

Our marriage wasn’t good. It wasn’t rotten, either, but I was aware that David had had something on his mind for the last few months, and, since he was seeing a therapist, I didn’t think it was anything good.

Sean was also aware of our problems, and had started to wet the bed again, which for a ten year old is pretty major.

I sighed, winked at Sean and pointed to the toilet paper. He scampered away to get it, and I took a moment to look at David. He was miles away, and I was about to poke him in the ribs to bring him back, when I saw a young man at the end of aisle staring wide eyed: as though David were the messiah. He then turned around and hastily pushed his trolley away. I poked David. He frowned.

“What?”

“Nothing my sweet, just wondering where you were.” His frown turned into a wan smile, and he patted me on the shoulder. It was familial: not loving, and for a spilt second I felt like bursting into tears.

“Sorry, sweetheart, you know how I get shopping,” he said, as Sean arrived back with the wrong paper. It was my turn to frown.

“Sean, you know the brand we use,” I said in my ‘best mother’. He rolled his eyes and giggled.

“Dad says it doesn’t matter what paper you wipe your arse with!”

“Sean and David Dyer!” I said, wanting to laugh.

“What?” They said with wide eyed innocence.

“I’m shocked!”

The levity of the moment evaporated as we cued to checkout. The shop was full of people seemingly unable to control their trolleys or their children. I was tired, and wanted to get home.

It seemed to take forever, and then David took the till receipt and started picking at it.

“Pastrami! Since when have we liked pastrami? have you seen the price?”

“Yes, David,” I snapped, “but you saw me put it in the trolley. That would have been the time to mention it, not once we paid.”

We’d reached the car-park and Sean had run on ahead, pushing the trolley until he had enough speed, then lifting his legs. I smiled, then realised he was going in the wrong direction.

"Wrong row!" I called to him as we approached the one where we'd parked. Sean rolled his eyes, then nearly ran into a slow moving SUV.

"Sean! knock it off!" David shouted, sounding really cross.

"Aw, Dad!" he called back, then clipped a curb and tipped the trolley and its contents over.

"I'll go," I said, touching David’s arm, "you go and ... oh, who's that standing by the car?"

He looked, and I’d almost swear he blushed.

"No idea," he said mildly. "Perhaps he's waiting for someone."

"Mum! Dad!" Sean called. I patted him on the arm.

"Open up, and I'll sort out wonderboy."

Briskly, I walked over to Sean, helped him right the trolley, then knelt down to re-pack the bags.

“Who’s that with Daddy?” he asked, thinking I didn’t see him pocket a chocolate bar. I glanced over, reaching for a can of peach slices, and blinked. From where we were it looked as if the man had his hand on David’s crotch.

I really needed to get my eyes tested. I knew I needed glasses, but this was ludicrous. We got the last of the bags in the trolley, and pushing together, set off.

“… Alright! but ….” I heard David say.

“David, who is this, and what’s ‘alright’?” I interrupted.

“My fault,” the man said, “I thought your car belonged to a business associate of mine who I haven’t seen in an age.”

“Oh, dear,” I said, passing Sean the grocery bags. “Sorry to disappoint.” I was almost sure it was the man I’d seen standing at the end of aisle 4, so surreptitiously, I watched them.

“Well, that’s life I suppose,” he said, brushing by David.

I felt, and heard my teeth clack, as I snapped my mouth closed. I hadn’t been mistaken, and I couldn’t believe it. The man had brushed his hand against my husband’s crotch, and if I wasn’t very much mistaken David was….

“It’s hard, but I’m sure I’ll see him soon enough.” The man said.

“Yes, no doubt you will.” I heard David say, sighing. “No doubt you will.”

---

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Very interesting indeed. Nice. I did the same thing, write the same story from different characters points of view. It's a great exercise in writing and a lot fun since it's so different.

Loved that she noticed the brushing at the end, and how you wrote it.

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