Sainsbury’s. Day before The Funeral. It is probably about as busy as a Christmas Eve, though of course, a lot less cheery. I’m in the long queue for a checkout.
The lady ahead of me has exactly what I would draw if I were drawing a conveyor-belt-load of shopping - lemons, upright bottles of wine, boxes of cereal, spring onions, peppers, and a massive pineapple.
Anyway, it’s this busy because tomorrow pretty much everything will be shut down out of respect for Her Majesty. And you know what people are like when the shops are closed. I imagine this crowded pastiche is currently repeated up and down the land.
I’m close to the till now. The pineapple lady is very healthy: shiitake mushrooms, a root of ginger, cherries and bags of garlic. I like her style - my combination of ‘items required for a shepherds pie’ looks like a poor selection of browns next to her rainbow spread.
We’re making the shepherds pie for tomorrow, after we’ve gathered for the big funeral watch. There’s a strange symmetry I think between tomorrow and the coronation day in 1953: everybody gathered, the nation glued to their TVs in one of those lifetime-defining moments. Different circumstances of course, but probably no less patriotic.
There’s a weak smile from ‘Debbie’ on the till. It’s my turn. I’m at the front of the queue.
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