chapter 6

Chapter 6.

'well almost. Melissa gestured broadly , doing no good to yet another pile of miscellaneous paperwork. 'The jerk who's married to his cousin Jenny. But she and Royal were brought up as brother and sister, so I guess it counts.

'Yes, Marta replied, dry mouthed. ' I suppose it does. She felt deathly cold . She wanted to throw her head back and cover herself in shame or probably run away from the neighborhood.

My God ,she thought. He's Jenny's cousin, and I .. I just marched up to his door and laid my claim to her husband. What have I said? What have I done?

Oh, Hermes.. Hermes. Why didn't you warn me? . Because he didn't know you were about to descend on him, a small, tiny voice in her head reminded her. You did all of your own bat, and now you have to live with the results of your actions.

'Are you okay?" Melissa was staring at her. You look like you have seen a ghost, darling.

'No. Marta mustered a smile. ' I think I've just realized how much I've bitten off and I'm wondering if I can chew it.

'While on the subject of chewing, Melissa grabbed an envelope and drew a swift sketch map on the back of it . The Road, darling,and our closest food sources. Today's market day, so you'll find everything you need but keep a tight grip on your bag . Pickpocket are endemic down here , so try not to look like you don't know your way around.

She didn't look anything like a strange, Marta thought an hour later,rather she looked more like an alien from the planet Zog. And now as she made her way down the road, she thought she'd come to the wrong place because all she could see on both sides of the road are antiques shops. But there was no sign of any food outlets.

Marta crossed the road , and suddenly found herself absorbed into an alternative reality. A rowdy , bash reality, where clumps of street musicians vied for attention with a non stop assault on the ear drums, where stall owners bellowed incomprehensible special offers . Marta was wearing her bag slung across her body, under her Jack, and she kept a protective hand on it as she found herself almost borne along on a tidal wave of humanity.

She was used to crowd for God's sake. She'd lived and worked in Bristol. But here the noise and numbers suddenly threatened to overwhelm her.

She'd never seen such a market like it. As well as all the fruit and vegetables on offer, there were stalls of second hand clothing, including a display of an old fur coat and military uniforms from another century, books , jewelry and musical instruments.

The temptation to linger and explore was much, but buying food had to be her first priority.

Marta turned and fought her way back , diving into a supermarket with a little relief. She filled a basket with staples, then pushed her way up to the road to a special bakery she'd spotted earlier, where mouth watering display of every kind of bread and pastry were presented outside for customers to pick and mix.

Marta chose a fruit bread ,with a mini baguette filled with salad ,which with milkshake, would serve as lunch . She selected apples, tomatoes, pepper and strawberry from a street stall, and then stopped at the old fashioned butcher's further down the road and bought a dressed chicken and minced pork and beef to make a pasta sauce . On her way back, she passed the end of a cobbled mews and paused for a minute, looking wistfully at the narrow smart house , painted in pastel colours . One of them she saw, even had a 'For sale' board hanging from its first floor balcony.

As she hesitated a couple came out of the house, walking fast, hand in hand, the girl looked up into her companion's face and laughing. An intense pang of envy twisting inside her as she stepped back to let them pass, she wondered what it would be like to live there with someone you love.

She allowed herself to indulge a brief fantasy of being there with Hermes. Wandering out to buy fresh croissant and orange to blend for breakfast,while he stayed in bed with magazine, Then later , going for a stroll together round tgr second hand bookshops and junks stall, choosing something for the house, a piece of pottery, maybe,or some glassware. Something to provide memories in the year ahead.

She stopped herself right there . At the moment there was no guarantee that age was going to share any time with Hermes, she thought. Not after her appalling gaffe at Royal's residence.

She shuddered as she walked slowly back up the hill, weighed down by her shopping and the remembrance of the morning's confrontation. Because she could just imagine the row there would be when Hermes got back,she thought.

If only Hermes had told her that he was holed up temporarily with his wife's cousin. Instead, she'd gained the opposite impression that he owns his own independent flat, that he was making life which she would be able to share.

I couldn't have been listening properly,she admitted, with a sigh. Or could it be I simply heard what I wanted to hear. Nothing, but things aren't working out as she'd expected. And she could well end up on her own in one of the world's great uncaring capitals.

Or she could go back to Bristol, but she reminded herself. No one apart from Cindy knew why she'd come to London and her flatmate was too kind and loyal to have spread the word. She could probably even get her old job back

My God ,she thought, as she crossed the road to Maryland. That was real defeatist talk. Return to square one and occupy her familiar rut. When in fact it had been more than time for a change. For her to take hold of her life by the scruff of its neck and shake it.

She had a career, valuable job skills to offer. She could earn her living , pay her way . She'd come to London to share Hermes's lfe, not to become some pathetic dependent.

And whatever happened, she intended to survive.

TBC.