Chapter Eleven: Potatoes and A Daffodil

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The supermarket assistant and the angry woman with the bun marched the small copper-haired girl through the store

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The supermarket assistant and the angry woman with the bun marched the small copper-haired girl through the store. Marigold looked up for Bert. There was no sign of him.

'Oh Bert', she said to herself. She no longer felt sick. She felt empty.

The young man was excited. 'There'll be a reward for finding you, won't there.'

She looked at him. Speaking suddenly felt like too much of an effort. She took in the name on his badge. It was Kyle.

'Your Dad's loaded!' exclaimed Kyle. 'How much you reckon? Twenty thousand? Thirty?'

Marigold frowned at him.

You are very annoying. That's what I reckon.

'What? More? Forty? Fif... Ow!'

Kyle had been hit on the shoulder by something round.

She looked at the floor where it had fallen. It was a potato. Another one struck Kyle on the arm. Then another bounced off his knee. 

A cry came from behind her and she saw bun woman ducking behind a rack of cabbages and cauliflowers. 'Get the police here now!' she demanded again.

A fourth potato hit Kyle on the back of the head. 'Leave it out!' he shouted.

Marigold looked up.

Kyle followed her gaze.

Bert was hanging by his feet from the sprinkler pipe that ran along the ceiling. In his hands was a large sack of potatoes.

Marigold felt a flutter of hope inside.

Bert grinned down at her.

Kyle was watching them. 'No chance', he said tightening his grip on her arm. 'You're my winning lottery ticket.'

Bert continued to throw potatoes at Kyle. Some of them hit and some of them missed their target as he dragged Marigold nearer to an office.

'Away pull!' Bert suddenly shouted.

'Eh?' said Kyle.

But Marigold understood. She stretched herself as far away as possible from Kyle. Bert emptied the entire sack of potatoes on top of him. He fell to the floor and released her with a loud wail.

Within seconds Bert had swooped down and she was in his arms. As they rose in the air, all she could see of Kyle was his hands and feet sticking out from the mound of muddy potatoes.

Outraged, bun woman protested once more. 'Get the poli... hmmm.'

Bert's last potato – found in his trouser pocket – was the perfect size to fit in her open mouth.

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