Adam couldn’t wait to get a load of this. “Yes, sir.” The sheer audacity of Paul’s words made him smile.
Paul laughed. “Okay, wait here while I get us a trolley. There’s a brick pillar right behind you.”
Adam couldn’t resist. “I promise not to talk to strangers, Mum.” He struggled to keep his face straight. The hard tap on his arse was a complete surprise. He arched his eyebrows. “Don’t let the role go to your head,” he said with a smirk. He could hear Paul’s chuckles as he moved away.
Adam let the mask drop and took a moment to breathe deeply. The constant noise around him was overwhelming. Traffic from the road, the clatter of shopping trolleys as they were collected and returned, the chatter of shoppers, plaintive demands of children obviously being dragged along with their parents to do the shopping…
I can do this.
Adam expelled his anxiety with a long exhale.
“Hey.” Paul was at his side, those gentle fingers at his elbow again.
“I’m all right,” Adam insisted before Paul could say anything. He smiled, hoping to fake the confidence he lacked. This was stupid. He’d fought in Afghanistan, crewed yachts across the Atlantic, reduced grown men to a whimpering mess of emotions…
I can cope with a bloody shopping trip, for God’s sake.
“I know you are.” Paul’s voice was strong. “So give me the cane, which I’ll put in the trolley, take the handle and let’s go do some shopping. I’ll have my hand on the trolley, guiding you, okay?”
Adam gripped the smooth plastic handle across the front of the shopping cart and nodded.
They entered the supermarket, Adam aware of the automatic doors that swung open as they neared. He sniffed the air, picking up the aroma of flowers, the strong scent of lilies overpowering. Paul led them through at a steady pace.
“Fresh produce first. Let me check the list.”
Adam smiled. “I can smell strawberries.”
“There’s a display to your right, lots of plastic boxes of them.”
Adam reached out slowly and connected with film-covered plastic containers. He picked one up and held his nose to the cover, inhaling the delicious aroma. “Please tell me they’re on your list. They smell wonderful.” Without waiting for Paul’s response, he held the box out. “Do these look okay? I used to always check the underside in case there were any mouldy or damaged ones.”
Paul chuckled. “I take it this means we’re having strawberries for dessert tonight.” He took the box. “They’re fine. Actually, those look really good.”
Adam preened. Score one for the blind guy.
He followed Paul’s lead, halting when the trolley stopped. Occasionally he would stretch out a hand and pick up a fruit or vegetable, exploring it by touch, sniffing its scent. He loved thefirmness of the peppers, the earthy smell of potatoes, the citrusy aroma of fresh ginger. After a while Paul got him to pick out the vegetables, and it was amazing how such a simple task filled him with pride, especially when Paul complimented him on his choices. When he got to the bananas, he picked up a bunch and curled his fingers around one, sliding them along its length.
Paul made a choking sound. He took them off Adam and whispered, “that lookedwaytoo dirty.”
Adam smirked. “It’s your mind that’s dirty.”
“Thankfully, we won’t be buying those, seeing as you’re allergic to them.” Paul chuckled. “And no playing with the cucumbers or aubergines either.”
Adam pulled a face. “You’re no fun.”
He walked patiently along the aisles while Paul picked up tins and packets. When they got to the bakery, Adam’s mouth began to water. The smell of freshly baked bread mingled with a sweetness that made his belly grumble. He reached out and connected with the crusty top of a loaf of bread. He picked it up and inhaled the wonderful scent, before placing his hands on either side and pressing gently, feeling it spring back when he released it.
“Oh. I see.” Paul huffed. “And there was me thinking you liked the bread I make.”
It was a good thing Adam could hear the humour laced through his words. “I love your bread and you know it.” It was always a battle between them as to who got the first piece, spread with butter. He put the loaf down. “How’s the list doing?”
“We need coffee.” Paul guided him the length of an aisle and stopped near the end. “Are you happy with the brand we have at home?”
Adam grinned. “Now that’s a great smell.” Ignoring him, he stepped closer to the shelving and felt for a bag that was pliant beneath his fingertips. He held it up to his nose, depressing thebag to force out the aroma of the ground coffee. Adam pushed out a low moan. “God, that smells good.” His fingers sought the gap on the shelf, and he returned it, before feeling for another.
Paul was laughing. “You would stand here all morning sniffing coffee and fresh bread if I let you.” He took the bag Adam held and dropped it into the trolley. “I’m making an executive decision on the coffee.”
Adam chuckled. “You do that.” He returned his hands to the trolley. “Is that it? Are we done now?”
