She had never allowed herself to hope that Henry would ask her out for coffee. Even better, that it was during the day and he had finally seen her at her very best. She now desperately wished she had worn her new pleated skirt. Still, never mind. The blue knitted jumper she was wearing showed off her neat petite figure. Rita found herself wondering if Henry’s wife was petite. In her mind, she had always visualised her as frumpy and matronly.
‘Yes,’ said Henry absently.
He looked distracted, Rita thought, his face pale and anguished.
‘Shall I get something from the chemist, for your dyspepsia?’ she asked.
Henry laughed and Rita felt slighted. She had only been trying to help.
‘If only it were dyspepsia,’ said Henry.
Rita chewed her lip. Was there something seriously wrong with Henry? Was that the real reason he hadn’t come in to the store for those few days? Perhaps his demanding frumpy wife didn’t want to take care of him.
‘Would you like some pie?’ Rita asked. ‘It’s leek and potato.’
‘Well,’ hesitated Henry.
Henry sniffed at the delectable aroma of the leeks and spices.
‘I am hungry,’ he conceded.
Rita smiled with satisfaction. She was rudely brought down to earth by a customer grabbing from the sample tray.
‘I don’t mind if I do, thanks,’ said the man, gruffly, pushing in front of Henry. ‘What flavour are they?’
‘Leek and potato,’ said Jenny.
‘I’m actually serving this gentleman,’ said Rita sharply and nodded to Henry.
The man totally ignored Henry and helped himself to another sample.
‘You’ll find them in the fridge over there,’ Jenny said, pointing.
She didn’t acknowledge Henry either. Rita stifled a gasp. How could they not see Henry? He was standing right at the man’s side and directly in front of Jenny. Henry looked sadly at Rita and nodded.
‘No one else can see me,’ he said.
‘Oh,’ she uttered.
The man grabbed another piece of pie and then sauntered off.
‘I think I must be dead,’ announced Henry.
Rita stared at him. How could he be dead? Dead people had wide staring eyes. Rita should know that better than anyone. Or they were ghostly pale with their lips turning blue. Dead people are lifeless. They don’t stand in front of trays laden with leek and potato pie and they certainly don’t look as healthy as Henry.
‘Dead?’ Rita repeated. ‘No, you’re not.’
She almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it but stopped herself when she saw Henry’s stern expression.
Another customer approached and Rita sighed.
‘It will soon be lunchtime,’ she said.
‘I love pies,’ said the approaching woman. ‘What are these?’
‘Leek and potato,’ said Jenny.
‘They are very nice,’ said Rita, who felt she could gladly eat a whole one.
