MEAL FOR ONE

Megan’s day was going from bad to worse, but just as the microwave pinged, things started to look up!

It was only Tuesday but it felt to Megan as though it should be at least Thursday. The start of the week had been nothing short of a disaster and a headache was forming over one eye, the throb intensifying every time she thought about the mess she’d made of the presentation at work. “Sloppy attention to detail, Megan, that’s your problem,” her boss had said. If only she’d felt brave enough to tell him that being exhausted from working all hours, on top of taking care of a lively three-year-old, was the real problem. It hadn’t helped that the date she’d been on at the weekend had been so toe-curlingly awful that she’d been replaying it on a loop in her head, wondering whether it was time to give up on finding love altogether. Her daughter was splendid company, of course, but Megan had originally signed up for online dating with the hope of finding someone she could talk to about things other than Paw Patrol and stickers.

She glanced in her rear-view mirror. Florence was looking sleepy after a busy day at nursery. At least she’d had a decent tea, meaning Megan only needed to pick up something for herself. She was starving, but it would be at least seven thirty by the time she’d got Florence to bed, and after tea she’d have to tidy up a bit. Weekday evenings were always when she felt the loneliest.

“Come on then, Flo,” she sighed as she unclasped the car seat straps before helping Florence into her coat. The cold snap from Christmas had lingered into January and the air was biting. “We’ll just nip in quickly then get home for your bath and bedtime.”

“And ‘Lufflo,” Florence said, looking up at her mum.

“And The Gruffalo, yes.” Megan clasped tightly to the little hand in hers, wondering whether Florence ever noticed that her mum sometimes skipped entire pages because she could barely keep her eyes open.

Inside the shop, she steered Florence straight to the ready meals. Megan loved ready meals. She didn’t care that they were full of salt and sugar, nor that she was spending a preposterous amount of her low salary on convenience cottage pies and microwaveable meatballs. Ready meals never let her down or made her sad. Not like unsympathetic bosses and dodgy dates. Granted, the meals were sometimes a bit uninspiring but after a few minutes on full power, a satisfying ding told Megan her dinner was ready. Besides, some of them were delicious. The Three-Minute Katsu Curry could always be relied upon to cheer her up and that was precisely what she was going to have tonight. As she scanned the shelves for it, she became aware of a man beside her, also browsing convenience meals. Eventually, her eyes settled on the curry she was after – the last one on the shelf – but she realised as she stretched her arm out that he was reaching for the same one. Almost in slow motion, he got there first.

“Sorry.” He smiled sheepishly. “Must be a popular one.”

“I was just about to pick that up.” Megan stared at him, open mouthed.

He shrugged. “Bad luck, I got there first. Only just, mind.”

“But it’s my favourite.” She could feel herself pouting. It was pathetic but after a truly dreadful day, she’d been really looking forward to it.

“Right. Well, like I said, I’m sorry.” His expression had shifted from apologetic to amused and she felt herself becoming angry with this curry-stealing stranger. With dark curls and dimples, he might have been handsome – if he hadn’t been so smug.

“Are you really not going to let me have it?”

He laughed and shrugged. “Why would I let you have it?”

Florence was tugging on her hand. “Mummy, is he not sharing nicely?”

Megan shook her head. “No sweetheart, he’s not sharing.”

“OK, wow.” The stranger holding Megan’s dinner raised his eyebrows before looking down at the small child beside him. “Unfortunately, there isn’t enough for us to share and I got there before your mummy did. I won, fair and square.”

“I won, fair and square,” Megan mimicked him, instantly regretting doing so when she noticed some other shoppers staring. What was she doing, behaving like this? She grabbed a lasagne from the shelf below and headed towards the checkout.

“Enjoy your dinner,” he called after her. “It’s not bad, that one.”

She couldn’t reply with the two words she wanted to because of little ears listening but she shot him a look she hoped conveyed the same message.

In the car, the rear windscreen had misted up and was taking forever to clear. Florence was still nattering about the ready meal.

“He didn’t share. He said, ‘I won!’”

Now Florence was mimicking her mum, mimicking him.

“Do you know what sweetheart, Mummy was a bit rude to him. I shouldn’t have been rude. Sometimes grown-ups have tantrums, too.” She put the car in reverse and began backing out. “Say sorry to the man.”

“I can’t say sorry to the man, he’s gone.” And I’m still a tad annoyed, Megan thought. “Let’s get you home and –”

A terrible sound interrupted what she had been going to say. A clunk, metal on metal. Had she reversed into something? A horn beeped angrily, confirming she had indeed reversed into something. She put

WHAT WAS SHE DOING, BEHAVING LIKE THIS OVER A CURRY? SHE GRABBED A LASAGNE AND HEADED FOR THE CHECKOUT