Louise had never thought of using an aubergine as a murder weapon before, but there was a first time for everything.
She squeezed the offending purple vegetable. All around them, shoppers at the Tesco stopped to stare. One woman was holding open a plastic bag, a gaggle of carrots suspended from her hand. Her eyes were trained on Vienna. Vienna, who, in typical form, was wailing at the top of her lungs.
"Sweeties!" the toddler howled. "Now!"
Louise gritted her teeth. She'd attempted to steer the children away from the selection of chocolate near the cash, but it was too late; Vienna had caught sight of it.
"Later," Louise promised. "When we're home, Vienna."
"Now!" The toddler threw herself on the floor. "Now, now, now!"
Hugh — who had been putting red apples into a bag — stopped to look at his younger sister. He gave a disdainful sniff. "G-g-get up, Vee."
"No!" Vienna banged her fists on the ground. "No, no!"
Louise sighed.
This day simply could not get any worse.
Ben had been called into work on a Saturday morning — something about an urgent case, although Louise was dubious that there could be anything urgent about tax law — which meant that she was stuck with the kids for the day.
Which meant Louise didn't have time to wash her greasy hair. Or brush her teeth. Or do any form of basic hygiene, really. She'd planned to go food shopping later, when Ben got home, but then they'd run out of maple syrup. And Hugh refused to eat pancakes without syrup.
So here she was.
At Tesco.
Wheeling around Hugh, a miniature Slavic dictator, and an aubergine.
Louise plopped the aubergine in a bag, frowning at Vienna. She really could have been a Tsar in another life. Louise suspected she might still grow up to be one.
"Want," Vienna howled. "Want!"
Louise closed her eyes. Mentally counted to ten.
"How about this?" Louise offered. "I'll buy you sweeties on the way home, alright? But you can't have them yet. We're still shopping."
"Now!" Vienna's lip quivered. "Now!"
Louise sighed. Ben was going to kill her; he was always harping on about the importance of a good, healthy breakfast to start the day. Vienna stared up at her with watery, defiant brown eyes. Then she hissed in her face. Actually hissed at her.
It was the last straw.
"Oh, screw it," Louise muttered.
She seized a packet of Percy Pigs off the wall, ripping it open. Vienna dove into it gleefully. Louise threw the empty packet into the basket. Percy Pigs had to have some nutritional value, right? Gelatin was kind of like protein, if you squinted a little.
Hugh gave her a dubious look that clearly said, "I'm not mad, just disappointed."
Actually, Louise thought, he looked exactly like Ben when he did that.
An elderly woman carrying a baguette whispered something to her friend. They both turned to stare, and Louise flushed. She knew what she must look like: black leggings, an oversized grey hoodie, and her brown hair frizzy, as if it had been sucked into a hoover.
"I'm new to this," she called. "Just for the record."
The women looked away.
Louise pushed the cart toward the dairy aisle. Ah, well. What were the odds of running into someone she knew? Most of her friends would have gone out on a Friday night; they were probably tucked in bed this morning, nursing a hangover and—
"Louise?" a voice asked.
She dove behind a stack of bread.
Sebastian peered over the sourdough, looking bemused. He was dressed casually today — a grey wool jumper and jeans — but his blond hair was still styled. Expensive-smelling cologne clung to his jumper.
"Louise," he repeated. "What are you doing?"
"Oh." She seized a bag of pitas. "I was just grabbing this."
"Ah."
His eyes flicked to the kids. Hugh — who had wedged himself behind one of Louise's legs — glowered up at him. Vienna ignored him entirely, munching on her Percy Pigs. Louise wanted to die.
Sebastian smiled. "You must be Hugh," he said. "And Vienna."
The toddler waved a chubby fist at him. Sebastian waved back. Hugh crossed his arms, his face stony. Sebastian scanned the aisle.
"Where's Ben?" he asked.
Louise threw the pitas in the cart. "Working."
His eyebrows rose. "On a Saturday?"
"Unfortunately," Louise sighed. "He's sold his soul to the corporate devil."
"So you're here alone?"
"Not by choice," Louise said. "Trust me."
Sebastian leaned closer to the cart, taking in the selection. Skimmed milk. One percent milk. Cheese, yoghurt, and biscuits. Maple syrup. Sugary cereal. Pickles (an apology to Ben — the glass jar had shattered in the freezer).
"Is that a Colin the Caterpillar cake?" Sebastian asked.
Louise followed his gaze to the chocolate log cake lurking at the bottom of the cart. "Vienna's birthday is next weekend. We're hosting a party, actually. I've ordered a clown and a bouncy castle. It'll be grand."
Sebastian adjusted his baseball cap. "I'm very jealous."
"Well, you're welcome to stop by," Louise said. "Make a balloon animal."
"I might take you up on that."
She blinked. "Seriously?"
"Why not?" Sebastian shrugged. "I've not got anything else on."
"I'm being serious, Seb." Louise shook her head. "You won't enjoy yourself. People will be wearing party hats and talking about breast pumps and Peppa Pig."
"I happen to love Peppa Pig," he said.
She leaned on the cart. "You really want to come?"
"I really do."
"Okay." Louise shrugged. "I'll text you the details."
"Great." Sebastian smiled at the toddler. "Bye, Vienna." He crouched down until he was at Hugh's eye-level. "Nice to meet you, bud. I'll see you next weekend, yeah?"
He gave Louise a wink before turning in the direction of the vegetable aisle. Louise pushed the cart, grabbing things on autopilot. Butter. Granola bars. Pudding cups. She was just wheeling the cart towards the check-out when Hugh spoke.
"Who's that?"
Louise almost crashed into a display of sourdough. Hugh had spoken. In public. She bit her lip to keep from smiling.
"That's my boss, Sebastian," she said. "He's nice, isn't he?"
Hugh picked up a loaf of bread. Examined it.
"N-n-no," he said.
Hugh put the loaf of bread in the cart, drifting towards the check-out. He didn't say anything else the whole way home.