A RAGING CASE

We went to Rajani’s this evening late opening til eight, ‘only on a Thursday,’ she said.
We pulled into an almost empty car park, ‘good time to come,’ I said, ‘hardly anyone here.’
She stopped at the garden stakes said, ‘how much are these?’
I carried on walking into the store to the picture frames and met her by the not real flowers.
On tiptoes she reached up fingered a biscuit barrel toward her lifted it off the shelf with one hand and rocked back on her heels and as she did, the bag over her shoulder swung back like a demolition ball hit various items of chinaware and knocked them on to the floor. There was a loud crash.
‘You’ll have to pay for that.’
‘Oh, no, let’s get out of here.’
A man nearby wearing a Rajani’s blue tee-shirt said, ‘don’t worry about it,’ and swept the china fragments to the side of the aisle with a broom he just happened to be holding.
‘Sorry,’ she said to him.
‘Better go before they change their mind.’
In the car park she said, ‘that’s one way to get me out of there.’