Ruby just knew it was her. At the checkout. Some primeval instinct tingled every fibre in her body. Insects ran up her arms, down her spine. All this time living in this no mark town to find her mother working the till at Tesco. Yep, she thought, I only came in for milk. The woman’s name tag read Di. Somewhere on the woman’s person read Every Little Helps. On reflection, maybe it didn’t, but the insinuation was there, in her mind. She drew in a breath and carried on up the aisle. The milk fridges were open and belted out cold air. They didn’t help at all as she sweated profusely, holding on to an end of line offer. There was only one thing for it. She’d go home and make a cup of tea.
Sitting in her cosy flat above the pub Ruby reflected on her finding. Are you sure it was her though Ruby? No doubt, she argued back at herself. She had dark hair, piled on top of her head. Her skin was olive toned. The eyes were mine. After a restless night she decided to have a closer look at her prospective mother. It was only 6am, the store was quiet with only the over-night shelf fillers wearily stretching out the graveyard shift. She wondered if even the overhead lights were as bright as they were during the day. Weird. No sign. Different shift. She went home with bread and the milk she should have bought last night. A plan of action was needed.
There must be three or four shift routines she reasoned. Eight till two maybe. Two till six. Her mind rattled on with the imaginary shift rotas. If she worked the same shift every day, she’d be there at the same time tonight. She decided to go for it. She prowled the shelves like a thief working out which steal would make the most money. The dark blue shadow of an overweight security guard followed her. She picked up a bag for life at the till, went back into the shop to find milk she didn’t need. She found how interesting Tesco banking was. She hung around for quite a while on that one. Another two days of this and bingo, there she was, her doppelganger. The woman laughed with a customer, much like herself. She brushed a stray hair from her cheek in a similar mannerism to her own. She wasn’t brave enough to push her shopping through Di’s checkout so she went to the next isle where she could hear the woman who may be her mother’s voice. She tingled again. Her Mum’s voice. The noise she recognised from her soul. I know her. I do. She felt faint. Blood rushed to her head and she collapsed. The overweight security guard also had personal hygiene issues she discovered as he patted her cheeks repeatedly to bring her round. Her Mother’s face floated in front of her. She heard her say she was a trained first aider. Before she could do or say anything the paramedics arrived to check her over. Their professional opinion was that she hadn’t eaten breakfast. As she sat up, “Di” went back to her till. That was as much drama as she would get in a day of “every little helps”. The manager phoned her a taxi, on the house of course. She rolled around the back seat drunkenly trying to make sense of what had happened. She was going to have to get a grip.